When AJ Croce comes off the road, the last thing he wants to do is hang out in public and sign autographs like a needy, attention-seeking scenester. Instead, his leisurely evening of choice is entertaining friends with dinner and drinks, and before you know it, it’s off to the music room where the pianist takes requests from every genre imaginable.
This album of covers attempts to recreate those evenings with a setlist of Croce’s favorites and the requests he has come to appreciate. It’s not meant to be a recording to change mankind with philosophical thoughts, but offers instead a respite from reality.
Like those parties, Croce seemingly has no limits, drawing from classic rock, soul and blues: stuff anyone alive in the ’70s would remember, like The Five Stairsteps’ “Ooh Baby” and the Faces’ “Stay With Me.”
Yet, there’s no guarantee Croce won’t bend things a bit, such as putting a gospel spin on Neil Young’s “Only Love Can Break Your Heart.”
The aforementioned are the more apparent radio-friendly selections, but Croce shows he can go deeper than that. There’s Solomon Burke’s “Can’t Nobody Love You” (where Croce jumps on his A100 Hammond organ), Sam Cooke’s strolling “Nothing Can Change This Love” and Brownie McGhee’s “Better Day” with guitarist Robben Ford ripping a sparkling lead.
Despite spending his formative years in San Diego and the past several in Nashville, Croce shows he has a Louisiana side to his complex musical personality. His stellar band includes New Orleanian/Grammy Award-winning bassist David Barard, longtime four-string thumper for Dr. John, who’s a punchy additive to Croce’s well-oiled engine. Selections like Allen Toussaint’s slippery “Brickyard Blues” and Randy Newman’s horn-thrusting “Have You Seen My Baby” could almost get Croce anointed as a native son.
Though Billy Preston’s “Nothing From Nothing” isn’t classic New Orleans fare per se, Croce makes it so with a more rollicking, horn-dancing rendition than the original. Similarly, the irresistible funky jam “Ain’t No Justice” feels like a potential Crescent City natural despite hailing from Motown’s Shorty Long as his follow-up to “Here Comes the Judge.”
It’s a party, all right, but when you go, do look your snappiest.
