There is no glory in professing an admiration for Diana Krall. As the easy-listening goddess of our age, she’s an easy mark for derision, on principal or technical grounds. Connoisseurs of jazz singing tend to carp on her breathy delivery, a kind of high-lyric susurration. Others chafe at the sheer palatability of her music: she’s as cool as Starbucks (which may be responsible for a triple-grande portion of her sales).
But last night I caught the first of Diana Krall’s two sold-out concerts at Carnegie Hall, and I’m here to tell you it was great. Not in an overwhelming way -- that’s not how she rolls -- but in a deeply satisfying way, which just might be a harder thing to accomplish. The evening illuminated a few reasons why Ms. Krall deserves a second look from her doubters, and at least grudging respect.
