For Norah Jones, “Little Broken Hearts” teaches a lesson in making the most of a bad experience
NEW YORK (AP) — A sign of how much “Little Broken Hearts” represented a departure for Norah Jones was that she filmed not one, but two music videos for the album portraying herself as a murderer.
One victim was a lying, cheating boyfriend, the other his seductress. Both ended up at the bottom of a lake.
Ten years after its release, the disc is like an island in Jones’ career. It’s a little gem where she tested herself to leave a musical comfort zone to handle romantic turmoil – and ended up with a concise, consistent statement that rivals some classic heartbreak albums.
“I just love it,” Jones said recently. “It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever done. I also think for people who didn’t really agree with me or my music, some of them liked it when they didn’t like the rest of my music, and I always thought that was pretty fun and funny.
This is Norah Jones, remember. Her luscious voice was everywhere in the early 2000s, songs from her jazz-inspired debut “Come Away With Me” poured from speakers in living rooms, boutiques and restaurants. It has sold a whopping 23.7 million copies.
It was music so pleasant and innocent that it offended some.
The Jones who approached 2012’s “Little Broken Hearts” was in his early thirties and just going through “one of my more dramatic breakups.” Her voice seemed tired in the song “Good Morning,” which sounded like daybreak on a sleepless night.
On the musical “Dear John” letter, a resigned Jones sings about “folding my hand”. You learn why in the ensuing 11 issues, as the rough outlines of a betrayal story emerge.
She teamed up with Brian Burton, the producer known as Danger Mouse whose edgy imprint was evident on discs from Gnarls Barkley, Broken Bells, the Black Keys and Beck. She had asked him to produce music she had written for an earlier album, but he declined. He doesn’t do things that way.
He liked to go into the studio without having written anything and see what happened.
“And I was like ‘what?'” Jones said. She had never worked like this before.
That seems, to an outsider, a bit disorganized, haphazard. They worked mostly alone together in a studio for two months and the strengths of that approach became apparent. The songs are simple, direct and tell a coherent story both lyrically and musically.
At the start of the trial, Burton asked if Jones was willing to go somewhere darker than before. Under his direction, she told the stories in a hushed voice.
“He likes that kind of dark music, but I was up for anything, you know?” she said. “I was so comfortable with him because we were friends already, and we had already spent the last few years just hanging out, having drinks, talking about relationships and stuff.
“So there was no point in entering this vulnerable place with a stranger,” she said. “That made it so much easier.”
The work culminated in the song “Miriam”, at once enchanting and a little creepy, in which she fantasizes about killing her rival. “Miriam, it’s such a beautiful name,” she sings. “And I’ll keep saying it until you die.”
When he was done, Burton told Rolling Stone magazine that the album was “obviously very different from anything Norah has ever done. I don’t know what people will think. I hope they like it and that she doesn’t lose a bunch of fans.”
Which critic, Mark Saleski, found even better then the musical shift was “this baffling idea: someone cheated on Norah Jones.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Jones said over lunch on a sidewalk cafe. “It’s part of life.”
No, the real woman’s name is not Miriam. And no, Jones is not a murderer. Songs are not always literal. She’s resisted calling this a heartbreak album — even though “broken hearts” appears in two song titles — because Jones worries that characterization overshadows the music and lacks some of the playfulness.
Her reluctance is evident when Jones is asked how the real people who inspired the stories felt about the album. She didn’t like those questions then – or now.
“Why do you need me to talk about my relationships?” she said. “I just gave you an entire album that summarizes the emotions and the inner workings of my brain. People are so curious and it’s so funny. It’s like I’m bleeding into this album. What more can I say that would be better than that?”
There is a rich history of artists pouring romantic torment into songs or albums. The best avoid self-indulgence and allow listeners to recognize their own life in what they hear.
Bob Dylan’s ‘Blood on the Tracks’, Marvin Gaye’s ‘Here, My Dear’, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’, The Cure’s ‘Disintegration’, Kanye West’s ‘808s & Heartbreak’, Amy Winehouse’s ‘Back to Black’, Adele’s ’21’ and Bruce Springsteen’s “Tunnel of Love” are some that come to mind.
It’s a little early to say whether Jones’ “Little Broken Hearts” will join that pantheon, said Krystal Klingenberg, music curator at the National Museum of American History.
She admires the effort, though.
“Getting out to try something different and take a turn in your artistic direction always takes guts, and I sincerely applaud her for that,” said Klingenberg. “All things being equal, I’m sure the industry would want her to play ‘Don’t Know Why’ forever.”
Who can blame someone? “Don’t Know Why” has been streamed over 416 million times on Spotify. The song “Come Away With Me” has been streamed 339 million times. “Happy Pills”, the most popular song on “Little Broken Hearts”, has 34 million streams.
About six months after Jones finished the album, she had lunch with Bruce Lundvall, the jazz connoisseur who ran her Blue Note Records label. Lundvall, who died in 2015, confessed that he didn’t really like the record at first, but it got to it.
“He was a savvy music lover, but it wasn’t really his thing,” said Jones. “That made perfect sense and I was totally fine with it. I sort of felt that way about everyone who might have loved my first record, but not this one. That didn’t really bother me. It’s a whole different record.”
Despite the darkness of the material, Jones has nothing but happy memories of making it. She rented a house in Los Angeles near where it was shot, and returned to swim in the pool when the day’s work was done.
Friends came to visit, including a new friend – now her husband and father of their two children.
Reviews were generally positive for the disc, recently getting the reissue treatment with a Texas live show where she performed the entire record as a piece.
Even a hipster magazine like Spin liked it, though critic Nate Cavalieri couldn’t resist a shot: “’Little Broken Hearts’ is thrilling because it explores the darkest recesses of betrayal, evil love and jealousy with enough vitality to propel Jones out of the anemic purgatory of brunch music.”
She still likes to play the songs, the solidity of them was confirmed to her when they hold up in stripped-down versions. She has mixed feelings about revisiting ‘Miriam’, even though the cut received one of the biggest reactions when it was released, as she doesn’t want to encourage accidental violence.
Jones acknowledges the pressure she felt dealing with the outgoing public reaction to “Come Away With Me.” There’s no point in pretending otherwise.
In a way, the “Little Broken Hearts” experience cemented her approach to moving forward.
“If I don’t just do what I want, I’m not going to succeed anyway,” she said.
