David R. Adler, All Music Guide

Norah Jones's debut on Blue Note is a mellow, acoustic pop affair with soul and country overtones, immaculately produced by the great Arif Mardin. (It's pretty much an open secret that the 22-year-old vocalist and pianist is the daughter of Ravi Shankar.) Jones is not quite a jazz singer, but she is joined by some highly regarded jazz talent: guitarists Adam Levy, Adam Rogers, Tony Scherr, Bill Frisell, and Kevin Breit; drummers Brian Blade, Dan Rieser, and Kenny Wolleson; organist Sam Yahel; accordionist Rob Burger; and violinist Jenny Scheinman. Her regular guitarist and bassist, Jesse Harris and Lee Alexander, respectively, play on every track and also serve as the chief songwriters. Both have a gift for melody, simple yet elegant progressions, and evocative lyrics. (Harris made an intriguing guest appearance on Seamus Blake's Stranger Things Have Happened.) Jones, for her part, wrote the title track and the pretty but slightly restless "Nightingale." She also includes convincing readings of Hank Williams's "Cold Cold Heart," J.D. Loudermilk's "Turn Me On," and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You." There's a touch of Rickie Lee Jones in Jones's voice, a touch of Bonnie Raitt in the arrangements; her youth and her piano skills could lead one to call her an Alicia Keys for grown-ups. While the mood of this record stagnates after a few songs, it does give a strong indication of Jones' alluring talents.

Michael Ross, Amazon.com

It is not just the timbre of Norah Jones's voice that is mature beyond her 22 years. Her assured phrasing and precise time are more often found in older singers as well. She is instantly recognizable, blending intimations of Billie Holiday and Nina Simone without sounding like anyone but herself. Anyway you slice it, she is a singer to be reckoned with. Her readings of the Hank Williams classic, "Cold Cold Heart" and Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You" alone are worth the price of the CD. Jones's own material, while not bad, pales a bit next to masterpieces such as these. They might have fared better had she and producer Arif Mardin opted for some livelier arrangements, taking better advantage of brilliant sidemen such as Bill Frisell, Kevin Breit, and Brian Blade; or if the tunes had simply been given less laconic performances. Jones has all the tools; what will come with experience, and some careful listening to artists like J.J. Cale and Shirley Horn, is the knack of remaining low-key without being sleepy--sometimes less is not, in fact, more.

Steve Klinge, Barnes & Noble

Although her debut, Come Away with Me, comes from the famed jazz label Blue Note, 22-year-old Norah Jones works at a crossroads of styles: She's partly pop, partly soul, and, yes, partly jazz. In a way, she's the younger sister of artists such as Cassandra Wilson, Holly Cole, and Madeleine Peyroux, singers who bring a jazz sensibility to pop melodies, and vice versa. Produced by the legendary Arif Mardin -- who worked with Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, and Laura Nyro -- Come Away with Me has an easygoing sophistication that belies Jones's age. A native of Texas, where she grew up studying jazz piano and voice, Jones ended up in New York, and recently she contributed vocals to Charlie Hunter's Songs from the Analog Playground, covering songs by Bryan Ferry and Nick Drake. On her own, Jones presents an understated confidence, both in her light and melodic piano playing and in her seductive and sensual voice. In a feat of alchemy, she transforms Hank Williams's honky-tonk classic "Cold Cold Heart" into a smoky ballad with a walking bass line. "Don't Know Why," written by her bass player, Jesse Harris, is a lovely folk-tinged melody that Jones sings slightly behind the beat. The melancholy "The Long Day Is Over," which Jones wrote with Harris, features shimmering guitar work from Bill Frisell. It adds up to an impressive debut, and Come Away with Me is an invitation that's hard to resist.

Personnel: Norah Jones (vocals, piano, Wurlitzer piano); Jesse Harris, Kevin Breit (acoustic & electric guitars); Tony Scherr (acoustic guitar, slide guitar); Adam Levy, Bill Frisell (electric guitar); Adam Rogers (guitar); Jenny Scheinman (violin); Sam Yahel (Hammond B-3 organ); Rob Burger (organ); Lee Alexander (bass); Brian Blade (drums, percussion); Dan Reiser, Kenny Wollesen (drums). Producers: Arif Mardin, Norah Jones, Jay Newland, Craig Street. Recorded at Sorcerer Sound, New York, New York and Allaire Studios, Shokan, New York.

Norah Jones won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best New Artist. COME AWAY WITH ME won the 2003 Grammy Awards for Album Of The Year, Best Pop Vocal Album and Best Engineered Album (Non-Classical). "Don't Know Why" won the 2003 Grammy Awards for Record Of The Year, Song Of The Year and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance. Arif Mardin won the 2003 Grammy Award for Producer Of The Year (Non-Classical). A direct descendant from the pedigree of one of the 20th century's virtuosos, Norah Jones might not be on such a lofty artistic level as her dad Ravi Shankar, but certainly inherited some musical intuition from him. With nary a sitar nor raga within earshot, the young newcomer sounds very much an assimilated, western, 21st century pop-jazz singer. One thing that separates her from the pack is Ms. Jones' own piano stylings--not flashy, but deftly doubling or echoing her voice--that discreetly act as the glue holding together these airy, delicate, and beautiful arrangements. But the centerpiece is certainly the 22-year-old's confident-beyond-her-years vocal delivery in addition to a precise diction and velvety tone. Shades of Nina Simone, vintage Phoebe Snow, and a less beatnik Rickie Lee Jones are evident throughout as the young siren coolly sashays through mostly new material by guitarist-songwriter Jesse Harris (formerly of Once Blue) and a few choice covers. Veteran producer Arif Mardin frames a most notable debut with a translucent touch, and appearances by jazz heroes Bill Frisell and Brian Blade gild the lily.

Mike Ross, JAM! Music / Edmonton Sun, March 2, 2002

A dead-on cross between Diana Krall and Emmylou Harris is one way to describe this. Maybe a little Billie Holiday, too.

The singer doesn't write most of the songs on this mellow folk-jazz-pop offering, so she can't be held responsible for lines like "Like a flower waiting to bloom, like a light bulb in a dark room, I'm just sitting here waiting for you to turn me on." Geez, turn yourself on, sister. She sure sings it beautifully, though. Almost makes co-dependence sound like a good idea.

Scott Waldman, March 28th, 2002

Simplex munditiis. A few thousand years ago the great Latin poet Horace strung these words together in a valiant attempt to describe the scene of a young woman weaving flowers into her hair in a sea cave. Horace's poem is a record of the inherent, transient beauty in the world. The literal translation of simplex munditiis means beauty that is simple in its elegance. Debut albums rarely achieve such a timeless, breathtaking quality, but Norah Jones' new album is worthy of Horace's epithet. This is not a simple album, but one that is as naturally sublime as the subject of a Horace poem.

Blue Note has just released Jones' first album, Come Away with Me, which would make it easy to file her away under jazz. But that would only be half of the story. Jones defies easy classification. Though only 22, she has created a complete, original style that straddles multiple musical genres.

Back to the jazz half. Her voice often has a sparse, vulnerable quality in the tradition of Billie Holiday, where an impressive vocal range is sacrificed for tighter, more profound dalliances on a smaller scale. Underneath the timid beauty though is a glimpse of power as raw and romantic as Etta James' "At Last". Jones has digested a healthy dose of the great female jazz vocalists, but if musical influences were colors she would be swathed in a magnificent multi-colored frock. She can take songs from a multitude of different genres and rub enough jazz on their edges to conjure the genie of Nina Simone. Jones is a younger musical sibling of Simone, but enough of her own woman as well. Both women peel back the edges of jazz music to reveal the medium's vast depth and the infinite possibilities found there. Jones' can hear enough jazz in Dylan's "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight" to interpret it and make it her own as brilliantly as Simone did with "Just Like Tom Thumbs Blues" so many decades ago.

Jones' version of "Cold, Cold Heart" makes it seem like Hank Williams wrote the song over a few carafes of red wine in a smoky corner of the Five Spot. Her unabashed emotional honesty on this song is as close to the essence of Williams as a ride in the limo where he died at 29 on a cold New Year's Eve. The steel-stringed clunk and twang of Williams' rhythm guitar is transformed into a majestic bass line that anchors the other musicians as they take off on Texas-tinged jazz journeys of their own. Jones, who grew up in Dallas, frequently credits her mother's record collection for her eclectic tastes because it exposed her to musicians as diverse as Ray Charles and Willie Nelson (who she recently opened for and sang a duet with).

Jones' own compositions, "Come Away with Me" and "Nightingale", are concrete evidence that she is quite familiar with the work of Carole King. King is as much a part of the piano and songwriting, and even singing, of Ms. Jones than any of the jazz singers to whom she may be compared. Both women can write songs that feel as open as they are independent .

At a recent concert at the Fez in New York City, Jones came out on stage, smiled nervously at the audience, and immediately started in on the piano. There was only time for a second or two of introductory applause. A few notes came out of the piano and then her voice, like a breeze in August, blew through the room. Our conversations stopped in mid-sentence and we hung transfixed for the next hour. The proverbial pin could have been dropped. We were grounded only when Jones, who comes across as being unaware of her immense talent, paused to introduce a song written by one of her bandmates or to refer to herself as a dork.

Jones' band, which at Fez consisted of Adam Levy on acoustic and electric guitar and Lee Alexander on upright bass, work excellently off one another. Their music has enough jazz in it to allow Levy to make a few improvised solo runs on guitar and for Alexander to prove that he is capable of much more than providing a solid backing beat. This is also true of their work on her album, as well as that of Jesse Harris who contributed a number of songs to Come Away with Me. It is a testament to the promise of Jones' music that guitar legend Bill Frisell stopped by her first recording session to play on a track. Perhaps even stronger testament to Jones' merit as an artist, she was produced by Arif Mardin, who can list Aretha Franklin, the Modern Jazz Quartet, and John Prine on his resume.

Norah Jones and her band create music that is refreshing. It is as exciting as the lights of a city skyline on a Saturday night. As introspective as a letter written by candlelight at 2 a.m. And as soothing as a deep massage. It would be hard to a lick a label and stamp it on Norah Jones' music. She has an understanding of the very essence of music, as if she had on X-ray goggles that allowed her to see its bare bones. The music is unique enough to stand on its own, without need for a genre label, and for that reason it feels fresh. If you'd like to hear an artist that's just begun to hit her stride, then come away with her.

Tom Moon, Rolling Stone, issue 892, March 28th, 2002

Singer and pianist Norah Jones begins her debut with a confessional tale called "Don't Know Why," a little shrug of a song about the call she couldn't make to a lover and the ensuing missed hookup. She sings as though this one ordinary incident has unraveled her world -- she sounds weary and tense, puzzled by a sudden lack of bravery, haunted by what could have been, overcome with regret. Jones takes her sweet time illuminating these emotional ripples, and the restraint makes that track -- and all of Come Away With Me -- a quietly captivating triumph of torch song. Her voice might be set to permanent smolder, but the Dallas-born singer, whose father is Ravi Shankar, doesn't act like your typical cabaret diva: She understands the desolate hurt of Hank Williams ("Cold Cold Heart" is one of the album's most effective covers) and the gloomy melancholy of Billie Holiday, knows her way around the late-night moans of Memphis soul and the veiled desire of tango ("I've Got to See You Again" echoes the dance's slithering sensuality). Yet for all this gathering of handed-down wisdom, and all the distinct shades of blue that color her interpretations, Jones rarely sounds like a slick purveyor of saloon heartbreak. She sings in an earthy growl that can send chills, or a conspiratorial whisper that suggests she's sharing sworn secrets, or a weary sigh that exudes the kind of quiet, easygoing intimacy that doesn't come around in songs too much anymore.

© Frank Steven Groen