Norah Jones’ latest effort The Fall lights a fire under her old sound, but the flame doesn’t bring things to an unwanted boil.  Fans of her earlier work won’t find themselves left behind by a total Jones departure - it seems she just wanted to turn the dial up a notch or two.  

The familiar polished lilt of her voice is firmly in place on the opener “Chasing Pirates” which percolates nicely and serves well to introduce the overall vibe of the record.

On “Even Though”, echoing piano and distant guitars fuzz softly in and out of the foreground, which is dominated by Jones’ smoothly delivered ruminations on, in this case, love.

“Light as a Feather” opens a bit bleakly, but reveals a well established groove.  The session musicians that Jones has brought in for The Fall, especially frequent Tom Waits guitarist Marc Ribot, have rendered a sparsely beautiful audioscape that compliments Jones’ rich voice.  

“Young Blood” likely features the quickest-delivered Jones vocals on record, though that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a fast song.  She’s in storytelling mode, and the song is a twist on 

“I Wouldn’t Need You” finds Jones treading familiar time signatures, and the smooth sound of Jones’ piano bridge combined with Ribot’s spare, Waitsian noodling is a new and pleasing hybrid.  “Waiting” is a downtempo meander that can’t decide if it’s melancholic or just bored, and is just the sort of song that Jones excels at.

“It’s Gonna Be” features some restrained swagger, and is a piece of cultural criticism that frankly, I never thought Jones would write.  She takes our celebrity-obsessed country to task, and questions our priorities while more important problems go unsolved.  Nothing earth-shattering, but surprising nonetheless.

“You’ve Ruined Me” sounds like Jones is doing her best Ryan Adams (a co-writer on the album) impression, which isn’t very good.  The tune just doesn’t work, from the slightly discordant melody to Jones’ cheeky “You’ve ruined me now, but I liked it, though I’m ruined” line.  

The next song, “Back to Manhattan,” could have been appeared on any of Jones’ other albums, which isn’t true of much of the rest of The Fall.  Piano guided progressions circle beneath her ascending, soulful exhortations, all accentuated by perfectly blunted guitar slides.  I really enjoyed this one.  

“Stuck” ebbs and flows on Ribot’s guitar, with Jones alternatively soaring overtop in near falsettos and mucking it up on the lower end of her range.  In certain moments on this record, Jones sounds like she’s trying on a sound or attitude that doesn’t quite fit.  She’s trying to sound frustrated here, but just sounds tired.  She just isn’t effective at conveying certain emotions with her chronically sultry voice.

“December” is a pleasant acoustic interlude that showcases Jones at her best.  Piano keys, fingerpicked guitar, and a delicate, agile voice.  All you need.

“Tell Yer Mama” opens and the Waits sound of the music is front and center.  I have to wonder how much influence Ribot and former Waits producer Jacquire King have exerted on this record, when I hear songs like this.  An enjoyable tune, but it seems forced for Norah.

“Man of the Hour” is a cutesy little ditty, a love song from Jones to her dog.  Amusing, but instantly forgettable.

The Fall has its moments, and Jones always redeems, but in an effort to reinvent herself (again), Jones has perhaps selected the wrong ensemble to compliment her sound on a long term basis.