A Star Is Born

For my money, the best singer in the Twin Cities at the moment is Joy Divine. I've seen her three times in the last four days, and I still can't believe people aren't lining up (she told me she ain't in it for money or fame, bless her heart) outside the door of Jitters, where she and Henry Allen sing every Tuesday night, or at Nye's, where she flattened the place late tonight with a ridiculously healing version of "Blue Bayou."

Earlier at Jitters, she split open "Summertime" with great manners and class, not to mention the verve of the old-soul Georgia thrush she is; accentuating the line, "and the livin' is easy," like it was a command from a master geisha whispering to her battle-weary G.I.

Smitten? Damn straight. And I don't know a single music lover who wouldn't be, because the divine Miss Divine harkens back to a wartime when singers rallied the troops and comforted the afflicted -- and, in case you haven't been paying attention, that is what we are these days, whether we admit it or not: the afflicted.

And that is why we need singers like Joy Divine (she's working on a debut CD of original material as we gush), and similarly sexy, timeless, spirit-lifting entertainment like Le Cirque Rouge, with whom I saw Joy first sing, Friday night.

As far as I know, her next gig is at Jitters on the Fourth Of July. Independence Day. A day when all Americans celebrate their rich cultural history (including jazz and great bloodied singers), their rich future, and, lucky for us in this freaky-fecund arts prairie, get to hear their fireworks early this year.

So hush little baby, don't you cry.