Tiffany Austin has a voice that is singular, unique and she wants you to listen to what she has to say. If you feel like you’ve heard this all before, think again. Particularly attractive is the depth of her emotions that manifests itself in music of almost primordial intensity. Her performance here is superbly cadenced. In its hard colours, its polished texture and diamantine timbre and polished diction as well as in the subterranean aspects of emotion as well: in the gnarled heart and the ability to make your blood beat about your own heart just a little bit stronger. Tiffany Austin is a strong woman and this comes through in the delivery of each song. Such is the nature of her vocalastics.īut soul does not mean vulnerability. Here you get a chance to see deep within Ms. The sense of broken life, of heartbreaking human condition and its joyful recovery finds a simple and effective universe in songs such as “I May Be Wrong (But I Think You’re Wonderful”, “I Walk The Line” and “Sing Me A Sweet Song (And Let Me Dance)”. There is, in her voice, a restrained use of physical movement which suggests that each small gesture and conceptual idea (such as the gentle use of breath) achieves greater clarity and impact than if lyrics were swamped by over-active busyness. Tiffany Austin is a master of time and space the mastery of which enables her to concentrate fully on the rhetorical power of musical soliloquy. A place where you have been beaten up and you come out strong, stronger than when you went there. She seems to have come from the same place that has produced Abbey Lincoln as well as Aretha Franklin. I hear “Skylark” and I am immediately aware that someone so small can fill Abbey Lincoln’s big shoes. And while her singing has an utterly beguiling freshness to it, there is also a sense of raw, visceral power. She sings with great delicacy and great substance at the same time. Her vocals have a tender, touching simplicity to them.

No one has ever done that for me before, but now Tiffany Austin…Ĭlearly Ms. You don’t simply hear the lyrics, you also hear the back-history of the song. It has that aching intensity, that sweet-sorrowful aura that swirls around it as if it were a halo-very much one made from the stems of a rose, but not all thorns a flower her and a flower there.

But I doubt that I have been so affected by Tiffany Austin’s version. It bursts forth from the first bars of “Stardust”. Not simply the songs, but the manner in which they have been sung. About it and it is all because of the music on it. I cannot think of a more aptly titled record than this one by Tiffany Austin.

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