This is interesting

A rotten fish won't stop stinking because you throw it in the closet.

There is only one way to stop this smell and that's to clean it up.

That is the job of Ms. Peyroux, if she has the spiritual awareness to
recognize that she is in league with dark and dangerous powers.

It seems that she is a lost soul, guided by damned ones.

Greg,

I've heard there's a wee operation that can make you feel like a pollen
drunk bee all the time. Alison was saying that Careless Love is one of her
favorite albums. She obviously doesn't object to the kind of music. It was
MP's performance that ruined her day. A number of my mates had the
same experience. Did you see her on the telly the week after? She looked
and sounded like a drunk bee, but not on pollen.

Getting back to Webster: Unctuous doesn not mean sensual, or pleasant
or easy on the ear. That's not even in definition #5. Find me a definition
that is anything but negative and I'll buy you a pint.

Keep iin mind that that sentence was written by the same genius who
wrote that MP plays bass (?) and that "heaven To Me" is a country song.

I did a little research on the CD "Got You On My Mind" that Alison
mentioned. Bought one in fact. Damn good. Not as "unctuous" as CL, so it
may not be to your taste, but it most certainly exists.

Let's see, if Dreamland is her first album, and Careless Love is her
second.;;; Then gee, where does GYOMM fit in? And why do you suppose
MP has been denying its existience?

Funny business.

I don't know the story on this Miss Peyroux, but there's something going
on that smells....unctuous.

Angus

Obviously, either Helen Loughlin or Greg (or both) don't know what the
word "unctuousness" means. According to Webster's:

One entry found for unctuous.
Main Entry: unc·tu·ous
Pronunciation: '&[ng](k)-ch&-w&s, -ch&s, -shw&s
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French or Medieval Latin; Middle
French unctueux, from Medieval Latin unctuosus, from Latin unctus act of
anointing, from unguere to anoint
1 a : FATTY, OILY b : smooth and greasy in texture or appearance
2 : PLASTIC <fine unctuous clay>
3 : full of unction; especially : revealing or marked by a smug,
ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality
- unc·tu·ous·ly adverb
- unc·tu·ous·ness noun     


unc·tu·ous     P   P ronunciation Key (ngkch-s)
adj.
Characterized by affected, exaggerated, or insincere earnestness: “the
unctuous, complacent court composer who is consumed with envy and
self-loathing” (Rhoda Koenig).


So Helen was essentially saying that Maddie delivered 90 minutes of
'smug, ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality" - "but in a good
way!" Well, different strokes for different folks.

Personally, I prefer my false earnestness a little less smug.

Angus




Edited by angus

From the Scotland Herald

by Alison Kerr
Jazz Corr

IT is unusual that I can mention a favourite record and watch a wave of
recognition cross my friends¹ faces. Not since my teens have I had to kick
myself for missing Top of the Pops. Such is the lot of the jazz fan. Rarely,
too, have I anticipated a concert as much as the Fringe show I attended
this summer ­ and never before has my review been reprinted in a news
story. Yet all these things happened this year because of one unusual
singer and guitarist ­ Madeleine Peyroux.
Peyroux, for anyone who hasn¹t yet heard Careless Love, her beguiling
album, or read the news stories about her supposed disappearance just
as she hit No 7 in the charts, is a 32-year-old American who was
discovered busking in 1996. She landed a
record deal, released the well-received Dreamland, and disappeared only
to resurface last winter with a ³comeback² album that made her the most
talked-about singer of 2005.
With her languid yet fragile vocals,  which bear a startling resemblance to
Billie Holiday¹s, and the unusual, folksy feel of her music, Peyroux
seemed to be a throwback to an earlier, less commercial era. Add to the
mix her self-imposed withdrawal from the public eye and her ongoing
love of busking, and she appeared to be the real deal: a musician for
whom making music, not fame and fortune, was the main motivation.
Peyroux, a quirky character who ran off with street musicians in Paris as a
teenager and threw away her first chance at fame when she realised ³it
wasn¹t really something I could handle², had an authentic air about her.
When I interviewed her, back in June, I found her easy to chat with, as we
shared interests in old movies (Mr Smith Goes to Washington is one of her
favourites, though she struggled to remember its title), classic jazz (she
loves Fats Waller and, of course, Billie Holiday) and Paris. Perhaps she was
a little unfocused, but her southern drawl and pauses to smoke seemed
to explain the laid-back pace of her speech, and her slow responses to
questions.
After the interview, I happened upon a story about her ex-lover and
musical partner, harmonica player William Galison, with whom she is
embroiled in a legal wrangle over a CD. Got You On My Mind, recorded in
2003 (and guest-starring Carly Simon), has been dismissed as a demo by
Peyroux¹s record company, Rounder Records. They have accused Galison
of trying to cash in on Peyroux¹s success, and have threatened anyone
who distributes it with legal action. This was the first inkling I had that all
was not as Ms Peyroux¹s ³people² at Universal, which has leased the CD
from Rounder Records, had suggested. Peyroux herself had told me that
she had had several abandoned attempts at a second record during the
seven-year period which her press people cloak in a veil of mystery.
Galison, who has alluded in his legal correspondence to her ³history of
attempted suicide², met her when she was playing in a New York bar in
2002, and she popped up as a sideman to the trumpeter Peter Ecklund on
his CD Gigs, on the Arbors label. So, if she was really lost, it was only
because nobody was looking for her.
For Peyroux¹s Scottish debut at the Fringe in August, I invited along a
jazz musician who had played on the same Ecklund session, and who was
intrigued by the young singer¹s sudden celebrity. Neither of us could
believe what we heard that night.
It was excruciating. Our jaws dropped as we struggled to reconcile the
strangulated sounds from the stage with the sublime singing on the CDs.
Madeleine Peyroux the live performer sounded like a tone-deaf geriatric