Dee Dee Bridgewater
Birdland
Through January 25

“People sometimes say ‘less is more,’” Dolly Parton once said to Johnny Carson on the old “Tonight Show.” “But I believe that more is more — and I am living proof of that.” Indeed, she is.

In an entirely different way, Dee Dee Bridgewater’s performances at Birdland over the last few years also prove that more is more — and, better, that more is actually better than less. Here’s a hot tip if you’re looking to hear some great music this weekend: When you go to Birdland to see the great Ms. Bridgewater, make a point to go to the later show, which commences at 10:30 p.m. on Friday and Saturday.  

At 74, Ms. Bridgewater is the most generous of singers; on Wednesday evening, she started at about 9:45 and was still going until almost 11:30 p.m. Backed by her trio, with pianist and musical director Carmen Staaf, bassist Hannah Marks, and drummer Shirazette Tinnin, this was virtually three shows in one.

She started by introducing a new project in the works, a set of songs composed by her friend, inspiration, and mentor, the late Abbey Lincoln (1930-2010), one of jazz’s greatest original songwriters. On Wednesday night, Ms. Bridgewater sang four Lincoln classics, each cast in a different mold. She started with one of Lincoln’s earlier efforts, her lyrics to Thelonious Monk’s quintessential blues line, “Blue Monk,” followed by her famous waltz, “The World is Falling Down,” and a shimmering sample of Caribbean rhythm, “It’s Supposed to Be Love.”  

I have to confess, I could never quite figure out what Lincoln was talking about in lines like, “Monkery’s the blues you hear / Keeping on from year to year,” in “Blue Monk.” I’m not sure if Ms. Bridgewater could get me to feel that the text now somehow made more sense, but in hearing her sing it I gained new respect for Lincoln’s right to be cryptic and gnomic in her lyrics in the same way that Monk himself was in his song titles.  Ms. Bridgewater also treated us to one of Lincoln’s most profoundly philosophical texts in “Throw It Away.” 

Ms. Bridgewater then announced a pair of songs by Nina Simone, which were both directly connected to the Civil Rights movement. “Four Women” is a very specific performance art piece rather than strictly a “song.” It was originally more spoken than sung by Simone, but Ms. Bridgewater sang it in a way that gave new gravitas to the text, a polemic that illustrates the way Black women have traditionally been seen — and not seen — by the larger society. Ms. Bridgewater gave full vent to her voice here, practically shouting out the last notes

“Mississippi Goddam” was described by Simone as her notion of a show tune, but the 1964 song is really more of a vaudeville turn, with a bright bouncy beat and a tongue-in-cheek attitude that supports rather than undercuts the inherent seriousness of its message. Halfway through, Ms. Bridgewater spontaneously invited a young singer at the bar — who gave her name as Gabriella — to join her in both the song and an impromptu dance.

Ms. Bridgewater then proceeded in yet another new direction, with other songs that connected to social justice issues.  Backed by Ms. Staaf on electric keyboard and a drum solo by Ms. Tinnin, she guided us through a long and intense reading of Bob Dylan’s 1979 “Gotta Serve Somebody,” with all three young ladies of the trio also backing her up as a gospel choir.

She announced the last selection as a medley, but it really was a direct sequence of Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse’s “Feelin’ Good” going directly into James Brown’s “I Feel Good.” 

I’ve been following Dee Dee Bridgewater’s career for at least 40 years, and she still never ceases to amaze me. There are few artists of any genre or any generation who can deliver a 100-minute set in which every number is both a tour-de-force and a home run. 

The laws of logic and physics dictate that there has to be a letup or a respite once in a while, if just to give us in the house a chance to breathe. Yet she showed no mercy on us: For well more than a hundred minutes, we were completely under her control, on our feet and cheering, feeling satiated and overstuffed, yet begging for more. If the wait staff hadn’t needed to go home, we’d be there yet.