Rickie Lee Jones – ‘Kicks’ (2019)

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Kicks is the fifth album of covers from Rickie Lee Jones, with 2012’s The Devil You Know being the most recent. Of course, that’s not all she does. Jones has also released many critically acclaimed albums of her own material over the years, the most recent of which is 2015’s stunning The Other Side of Desire.

In many ways, Kicks can’t touch the thematic impact of The Other Side of Desire, or the sheer passion of 1983’s Girl at Her Volcano EP, her first covers project. Still, it is always engaging and occasionally compelling.

Rickie Lee Jones released the album on her own label, pulling a plethora of songs from the ’50s through the ’70s. “Bad Company,” the lead-off track, is dark and brooding. Jones and coproducer Mike Dillon bring out a sweaty angst missing in the original. Dillon’s percussion and Jones’ electric guitar work simmer, and the song casts a spell similar to some of Jones’ best original work.



Rickie Lee Jones always takes the musical road less travelled, and it’s no different on Kicks. She applies a similar methodology to “My Father’s Gun,” giving the Elton John/Bernie Taupin song a distinctive New Orleans feel. Less is more here, with Rickie Lee Jones’ ever-earnest voice and touches of sousaphone. The song really works.

Less effective is “Lonely People,” as the strong arrangement does little to rescue the ’70s hit from its dated lyrics. “Houston,” by contrast is simple, straight forward and engaging. Jones’ minimalist vocal delivery, tasty acoustic bass and delicate brush work all combine to move the song forward. “You’re Nobody ’til Somebody Loves You” is a joyous romp. Jones is joined by Tiffany Lamson, who helps kick things in high gear. The song’s live-in-studio feel also adds an element of delight.

Her take on “Mack the Knife,” however, reminds me of Rickie Lee Jones’ David Was-produced 1991 travesty Pop Pop. Enough said. “Quicksilver Girl” is a quirky and completely involving re-telling of the Steve Miller song. Jones’ doubled lead vocal is coy and innocent, while the vibraphones and Wurlitzer piano offer an atmospheric feel which is enchanting.

“Cry” closes the album. The 1951 chestnut seems like an odd choice, but it works well for Rickie Lee Jones in this setting. Originally done by Johnnie Ray and the Four Lads, “Cry” is nicely updated as Jones again applies her arranging magic to mystify the listener.

Is this the best Rickie Lee Jones album of covers? No, that trophy still belongs to her Girl at Her Volcano. Nevertheless, Kicks is a fine listen and shows that at a time when many of her contemporaries aren’t making music, Jones is not content to just rest of her laurels. This is the sign of a true and vibrant artist.


Preston Frazier