THE STORY BEHIND WHO KNOWS WHERE THE TIME GOES

When she describes how the age-old enemies throw their swords Rondi sings with an open-eyed sense of it would be again wonder. (Even in the audio-only medium, you can quite literally see her eyes.) The tone of her voice fully conveys as much of the tale as her words themselves.

That’s the tune that most stands out for me in Who Knows Where the Time Goes, just as it did when I heard her sing it live at Dizzy’s (Jazz at Lincoln Center). At that time, she was celebrating the release of In My Life, a beautiful album that, like most vocal packages, was highly piano-centric. Here, however, the role of musical director is played by the outstanding guitarist Dave Stryker. It therefore follows that, even though two exceptional keyboardists are heard here on the current project, the overall outlook, between Charleston and Stryker, is considerably more guitar-driven than before and the repertory derives primarily from the period in American music when guitars were the dominant instrument.

Having said that, I am immediately contradicted by This Nearly Was Mine. This is the most spectacular feature for Dave’s guitar in the collec-tion, and it’s also the most traditional pop standard here. So even though the This Nearly smashes my theory to bits, I can’t complain, since it’s the loveliest and most creative ballad here. It may be a traditional show tune, but the interpretation is anything but conventional; this is the number one baritone “aria” from. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s most baritone-driven show, South Pacific, and even though there have been very different interpretations (like Bobby Darin’s swing treatment), it’s almost always presented as bigger-than-life and full of machismo. This Nearly- takes the form of a soliloquy in the show, but leading men always sing it as if they’re projecting to the balcony. Rondi’s is the most intimate treatment I’ve ever heard; for the first time the song seems completely inner-directed and reflective, as if she were in a conversation with herself.

The only other song by a pair of canonical Broadway composers (al-though it’s actually from the 1941 film Dancing on a Dime) is Frank Loesser and Burton Lane’s jazz standard I Hear Music. Even more than on This Nearly, this oldest song here gets the most imaginative, even far-out treatment. While singing all the correct words and maintaining the fundamental shape of the melody, Rondi is infinitely playful as she fragments the tune, deconstructs it and reconstructs it in her own image, all the while going back and forth with bassist James Genus and drummer Clarence Penn. The remarkable thing is that Penn is such a melodic player that when he res sponds to Rondi’s charges you almost think you’re listening to a second bassist rather than a drummer.

Please Send Me Someone to Love was first heard on 1950 but foreshadows so much pop music of the Motown and Stax era that few realize it’s actaully 60 years old; Percy Mayfield was truly the grandfather of soul. It’s usually performed big and churchy and slow as molasses but Rondi puts a gentle but, urgent beat behind it (courtesy of Mayra Casales’s congas) and makes the whole thing rock.

Every other song here is either from a more recent era or brand spanking new – for instance, the two Brazilian numbers. Milton Nascimento’s recordings of his own songs are often rather aggressive. Rondi takes Tudo Que Você Podia Ser -translation, Everything That You Were Meant To Be (from the 1972 Clube Da Esquina, and heard here with a new English lyric) – and makes it considerably more lyrical; in fact, she makes it sound rather like a jobim tune. Jobim’s own Wave is also completely transformed, which is entirely welcome. Arrangers and singers often seem daunted by Carlos Antonio, and there’s less of a history of doing way out and interesting things with his mu-sic. Undaunted, Charleston and Stryker outfit Wave with an African-style chorale and percussion that make it sound rather Lion King. (It’s also a logical outgrowth of Telescope on In My Life.)

There are three excellent songs from singer-songwriters of recent decades (more recent than 1941 at least). Rondi loved Judy Collins’s famous version of Who Knows Where the Time Goes by the late Sandy Denny. It’s always been a beautiful song, but Rondi and Dave make it even more special. The background is primarily guitar, which keeps it true to its folk-pop origins, but they’ve dressed it with some lovely new harmonies that make the melody more attractive than ever – it’s a folk song that would now be at home at Birdland. Rondi’s interpretation is singularly personal. The 1985 Overjoyed is one of those Stevie Wonder songs that had a profound influence on the jazz world, and it inspires pianist Brandon McCune’s most notable solo of the album and a characteristically warm and joyous, vocal from Rondi.

Bobby McFerrin is a musician whose artistry goes so far beyond conventional categories that one hesitates even to label him a “singer” or a “songwriter.” Freedom is a Voice (from the 1996 Bang!Zoom!) already had a suggestion of African feeling to it, which Rondi enhances considerably by adding a chorus of three girls singing in the Zulu language. Mr. McFerrin would appreciate the multi-cultural ramifications; considering that his father was a famous baritone who sang Rigoletto at the Metropolitan Opera, it seems perfectly logical that a Chicago-reared jazz singer descended from Norwegian immigrants would sing a McFerrin composition in a Zulu setting.

One of the voices heard on Freedom is that of Rondi’s ten-year-old daughter, Emma. Family is also at the heart of Rondi’s Your Spirit Lingers, in which she reflects on her immigrant forebears, specifically her great grandmother, Indiana, who crossed not only the ocean but also the plains (via “sailing ship” and “caravan” to. reach the Midwest. It’s the pioneering spirit that lingers, passed from generation to generation, down to Rondi’s own child. Dance of Time talks about family in the sense that it describes a couple who are in it for the long haul, who “breathe together” – their “souls are intertwined.” It was written to help celebrate the 50th anniversary of a pair of friends, but it could be about any two people, young or old, who are either preparing to go the distance or are already doing it. Coincidentally, the relationship between Rondi and pianist Lynne Arriale, who composed the music for the four original songs here and plays on them, is also one that seems destined to last. listened to this collection of songs out of sequence, but I don’t think that there was any doubt in anyone’s mind that Song for the Ages had to be near the end. Rondi is talking about the major political event of the year 2008, something that none of us thought we would ever live to see in our lifetimes. I applaud Rondi for resisting what must have been the obvious tempta-torr to get all anthemic on us, to belt it with a big choir and a lot of drama. Instead, she keeps it simple and from. the heart, with an infectious sense of optimism and wonder. Some things are even more of a miracle than a snowstorm in the desert.

Rondi Charleston is an outstanding contemporary jazz singer and an even better songwriter. In Who Knows Where The Time Goes, Rondi has combined traditional standards, orig-nals, and thoughtful treatments of a wide range of material, and created one of the better vocal albums you’re likely to hear right now.