IT’S ALL ABOUT THE MUSIC

As a vocalist and songwriter, Jennifer Saran delivers heartache and heartbreak in the same silken envelope as a sly and sultry midnight invitation. Her mastery of pop vocal phrasings, gleaned from a childhood studying the melodic standards of jazz greats, burnishes every lyric to a deep luster and a high shine.

Her tart and wily phrasing may bring to mind Ella and Etta, while her sophistication at singing in the space behind the beat conjures the jazz musings of Lady Day and Ol’ Blue Eyes, giving her versatile catalog from Christmas classics to love songs she’s penned herself that luxurious and sensuous feel that’s signature Saran.

The Great American Songbook informs and illuminates Saran’s songwriting, and fuels her collaborations with mega-platinum producer Narada Michael Walden with witty, yet tender stylings. “When you’re raised on the classics, you learn to appreciate an adult subtlety,” she explains.

While adolescent composers often take pride in unleashing their raw rage, Saran likes to say that she’s “fully cooked”. Her attack, as vocalists call it, is more along the lines of a sleek cat slipping silently into the room versus a full-frontal assault on the senses. Like many of the vocalists she admires, including Doris Day (“Completely underrated,” says Saran), her polished voice projects strength while maintaining an airy, elegant lightness.

At times the ease of her vocals even carries weighty political messages without becoming ponderous or badgering. True to her jazz roots, she keeps her cool, even when summoning listeners to engage with crucial issues. For example, her album Smoky Nights contains the evocative “Let the Waves Wash Over Me,” which Saran wrote in response to Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony at the Senate confirmation hearings for Brett Kavanaugh, as well as the saucy cut “Get Over Yourself,” re-released in 2020 to target hypocritical lawmakers and inspire young voters. An earlier release, “Wake Up,” featured the exhilarating township sound of Ladysmith Black Mambazo, further turbocharged by the supersonic guitar riffs of Carlos Santana.

“As a woman, and as a mother, I am invested in this world, this earth,” she says. “My life has been blessed. I am aware of this, and grateful. And, through music, I’m now given a rare opportunity not only to entertain, but also to inform, inspire, and uplift.” Although she’s thankful to have skipped the growing pains of being a young musical artist, Saran was no stranger to the mic when she first teamed with Walden, who remains her collaborator this this day.

With early years spanning the globe from Switzerland to Egypt, the USA to Asia to Europe, Saran’s always been a singer at heart. While living in Asia and raising her family, she joined a local choir. Something clicked. The tragic death of her husband led to a serendipitous introduction to Walden, and they composed their first song together over the telephone.

Today, she divides her time between friends and family in London, the south of France, Hong Kong and beyond. “I was a grown-up when I really began to seriously compose and record,” says Saran. “My perspective now is not all about me, me, me. Whether I’m writing a new song or singing a classic, my take is more about the universal humanity of the lyric. We all fall in love. We all experience loss. And, hopefully, one day we all find the willingness to pick ourselves up and keep singing.”