A soulfully memorable album, To Love Is To Perform is an intimate collection from New Orleans artist Jada Di’Larosa. Written during daybreak after her shifts as a Bourbon Street dancer, the record explores how affection often mirrors a stage act. Blending cinematic strings with smoky, late-night jazz, she translates her reclusive reflections into starry-eyed grandeur.
A confessional, gripping opener, “Showgirl” traces the city’s neon lights alongside personal ambition and loneliness. That conveyed state induces a yearning to make it as a showgirl in Vegas, Di’Larosa’s vocals letting out “so I don’t have to feel anything for awhile” with spine-tingling appeal. Heartfelt strings and moody piano bolster an aptly late-night sound, framing those city lights as a force invigorating the artist, and all-out embodying both a sense of artistry and romantic heart. This breathtaking opener flows smoothly into “Movie Star,” strutting an expanded production with lovely brass adornments, atmospherically more at home in Di’Larosa’s New Orleans stomping grounds in its jazzy intrigue than the opener’s more Vegas-set glitziness. Both tracks succeed remarkably, with their own soundscapes.
Di’Larosa’s grasp of atmosphere is once again apparent on “Bayou St. John,” where lyricism of late-night dancing melds with serene sounds of bird-chirping, elegant piano, and cinematic strings. The production crafts a world fit for escapism and starry-eyed grandeur, with shades of Lana Del Rey in the mesmerizing vocal work and piano-laden haunts. “Let it sink to the bottom of the bayou,” an especially resonant vocal lets out. “That’s where I like to be. I hold my breath for you.” The album’s title track then continues an exceptional start, chronicling alcohol-laden nocturnal ideas that don’t quite come to fruition, its melancholy and fear of change echoing with lush immersion.
Another standout track, “Spinster” is a blissful earworm, soothing in its gentle brass and piano work as layered vocals conjure a beautifully woozy allure. The ensuing “A Love Noir” continues the nighttime setting with the “come home late” setting, captivating within a minimalist array of retrospective vocal melancholy — “you’re just a story for a dive bar, another love gone…” — and soft piano. “Costume” comes next with a gorgeous presence of strings, reminiscent of composer Nicholas Britell in its emotive power. “Do I dream of running away, to a new place?” Di’Larosa’s soulful vocals ask, the themes of escapism artfully apparent.
To Love Is To Perform is a beautiful album, echoing a love of performance, though also the tendency for performers to struggle with love, a process which can resemble an act on stage. Melody, atmosphere, and lyricism all play with riveting impact throughout this gem of a release from Jada Di’Larosa.
