| Jazz |
Summary: Joan Osborne’s *Relish Reimagined*: an exceptional jazz-infused reinvention of her iconic 1995 album, produced with Christian McBride.
JOAN OSBORNE – RELISH REIMAGINED: A REMARKABLE ALBUM FINDS A SECOND LIFE
Every so often, an album comes along that reminds us why we fell in love with music in the first place. Not because it offers something entirely unprecedented, but because it makes us hear familiar things in a way we had never quite imagined. In 1995, Joan Osborne gave us one of those rare musical experiences with Relish. Like practically everyone else at the time, I was captivated by “One of Us.” It was one of those songs that seemed to capture the sound of an era almost effortlessly. The voice was unmistakable, slightly rough around the edges, emotionally direct and wonderfully human. Osborne had a way of singing that made a listener feel less like part of an audience than the intended recipient of a private conversation. A few notes were enough, and before long the song had found its way into everyone’s head. But what made Relish so memorable was not simply the success of that single. When I finally got hold of the album, I discovered something much more substantial: practically every track seemed to have the potential to become a hit. There was no sense of an album built around one commercial centerpiece, surrounded by material designed merely to fill the remaining space. Every song had its own personality, its own appeal and its own reason to be there. I have experienced that particular pleasure only rarely, perhaps most notably with certain Michael Jackson albums, where the remarkable thing was not the presence of one outstanding song but the extraordinary consistency of the entire record. Relish belonged to that category. It captured something essential about its moment in time, yet possessed enough character to outlive the fashions that had helped make it successful.
Thirty years later, the musical landscape could hardly be more different. The industry has reinvented its business model several times, physical formats have largely given way to digital distribution, and streaming platforms have transformed the way music is discovered and consumed. Songs have become increasingly disposable, competing for attention in an environment where the next release is always waiting just around the corner. Novelty has become an obligation, visibility a currency and longevity something that seems almost inconvenient to a business built around constant turnover. In such circumstances, revisiting an album from 1995 might easily have become another exercise in commercial nostalgia. The music industry has never been particularly shy about reopening its archives when there is money to be made from familiar titles. But a package that arrived in the mail a few days ago suggested something rather more ambitious. Inside was a CD whose presentation immediately brought back memories: the same title, the same understated design and the same cover I remembered from the original release. There was, however, one important addition: “Reimagined.” Joan Osborne has returned to Relish in its entirety, not to produce a conventional anniversary edition or a slightly altered collection of familiar recordings, but to give the album an entirely new musical identity. This time, the journey leads into jazz, with Christian McBride, the celebrated bassist, composer and one of the most respected figures in contemporary jazz, overseeing the production. It is an intriguing proposition, and a potentially dangerous one. There is always a risk in revisiting an album so closely associated with a particular generation. Respect for the original can easily turn into excessive caution, while the desire to reinvent it can destroy precisely what made it special in the first place. The question is whether the songs can survive the transformation. The answer, as I am about to discover, is not merely yes. They flourish.
I take advantage of the first rays of morning sunshine and put the CD on. Within moments, I realize that this is not going to be a simple return to an old favorite. I am listening to something that feels remarkably fresh, almost like discovering an entirely new Joan Osborne album. The atmosphere has changed, the arrangements have opened up, and the music seems to breathe differently. Jazz is not being used as a decorative finish, some sophisticated coating applied to familiar rock songs. It has become the foundation of a genuinely new musical interpretation. “St. Teresa” immediately makes the point. The song emerges with an unexpected elegance, softer, more intimate and almost contemplative. The urgency of the original gives way to a performance that places greater emphasis on nuance, space and emotional depth. Joan Osborne sounds completely at home in this setting. Her voice retains its distinctive grain and rock sensibility, but it also reveals a remarkable flexibility. There is no attempt to imitate a traditional jazz vocalist, and thankfully so. She remains entirely herself, allowing the music to reshape the way she approaches songs that have been part of her history for three decades. By the second track, another surprise catches my attention. Is that Renee Rosnes on piano? Indeed it is. And she is far from the only remarkable musician involved. The album brings together Marc Ribot, Nate Smith, Caelan Cardello, Renee Rosnes, Jerome Jennings and Donny McCaslin, among others. This is no ordinary studio lineup assembled to give a familiar record a new coat of paint. These are musicians with distinctive voices, substantial experience and the ability to bring unexpected dimensions to the material. What is particularly impressive is the way they interact. Individual virtuosity is everywhere, but it never becomes an end in itself. There are no unnecessary demonstrations, no instrumental gymnastics designed to remind us how talented everyone is. The musicians understand that the songs must remain at the center of the experience. That balance between individual freedom and collective intelligence is one of the album’s greatest strengths.
As the tracks unfold, the quality of the project becomes increasingly compelling. “Man in the Long Black Coat,” “Right Hand Man,” “Pensacola” and “Dracula Moon” all acquire new dimensions. These are songs I thought I knew almost by heart, yet the arrangements continually reveal unexpected possibilities. Rather than attempting to reproduce the original performances, the musicians change the balance, alter the rhythmic architecture and give the instruments a different role in the storytelling. Familiar melodies suddenly take unexpected turns. A passage that once seemed straightforward becomes an opportunity for improvisation; an instrumental transition opens up a new perspective on the song. The pleasure is not simply that the music sounds different. It is that the compositions themselves seem to have gained additional depth. Joan Osborne’s voice, with its gently rock-inflected character, sits beautifully within the jazz arrangements. The combination is inspired. Her vocal personality never disappears beneath the sophistication of the instrumentation, and the musicians never attempt to turn the songs into something they were not meant to be. This is where Christian McBride’s contribution becomes especially important. It takes more than arranging talent to make a project like this work. The producer must understand what makes the original material distinctive, identify the possibilities that have remained unexplored and then create an environment in which the musicians can bring those possibilities to life. McBride has clearly understood the assignment. He does not simply translate Relish into jazz. He reconstructs its musical language while preserving its emotional identity. There is a world of difference between the two approaches. The result is an album that feels coherent, adventurous and, above all, remarkably accomplished. It is difficult to imagine a more convincing demonstration of how intelligently rock and jazz can complement one another.
The relationship between Joan Osborne and Christian McBride appears to be central to the success of the undertaking. There is an obvious musical understanding between them, a willingness to take risks without losing sight of the material. Osborne allows the songs to be transformed, sometimes quite radically, without seeming protective of the versions that made her famous. That is an important distinction. Many artists eventually become the custodians of their own greatest hits, obliged to reproduce the familiar performances that audiences have come to expect. The record business encourages this behavior, understandably enough. An established catalog is a relatively safe commercial asset, and nostalgia is an extraordinarily reliable product. Why take creative risks when the original recording can simply be reissued, repackaged and sold again? But the real value of music lies precisely in its ability to escape such calculations. Relish Reimagined refuses to treat the past as a museum exhibit. Instead, it allows the original songs to enter into a new conversation with musicians whose backgrounds and instincts bring something genuinely different to the table. Osborne’s willingness to surrender some control, to listen and to respond, gives the album an extraordinary sense of vitality. It is not a retrospective exercise. It is an act of musical creation. And that is perhaps the most important distinction between this record and so many other anniversary projects. This one has a reason to exist beyond reminding us that something successful happened thirty years ago.
Then comes “One of Us.” Inevitably, there is a moment of anticipation. The song is so closely associated with 1995 that it almost seems to belong to the collective memory of that decade. How do you revisit something so familiar without being trapped by comparisons? How do you approach a song that millions of people already know in a particular way? Osborne wisely avoids trying to compete with her younger self. There is no attempt to reproduce the original emotional impact, nor to suggest that the new version somehow improves upon it. Instead, she offers another reading, shaped by the experience of time and the musical freedom that this project makes possible. The song acquires a different character, more nuanced and more relaxed, while retaining the qualities that made it so memorable in the first place. Listening to it, I find myself thinking about the people who will discover Joan Osborne through this album today. They may never have heard the original recording. They may have no memories of the radio landscape of 1995, no particular attachment to the decade and no reason to approach the music through nostalgia. They will simply encounter an extraordinary singer surrounded by an exceptional group of musicians, performing a collection of very good songs with remarkable intelligence and imagination. For them, Relish Reimagined may be the beginning of a musical discovery. What a wonderful introduction. For those of us who knew the original album, the pleasure is different but no less substantial: the rare experience of returning to something familiar and discovering that it has become something new. That, in itself, is an achievement worth celebrating.
By the end of the album, one conclusion is difficult to avoid: Relish Reimagined is much more than an interesting reinterpretation of a successful record. It is an outstanding album in its own right, one that deserves to be judged on its musical merits rather than simply on its relationship with the 1995 original. The arrangements are inventive without becoming self-indulgent, the musicianship is consistently exceptional, the production gives every instrument room to breathe, and Joan Osborne delivers performances that demonstrate just how much artistic depth remains in a voice that first captured the public’s attention three decades ago. Christian McBride deserves particular recognition for bringing all these elements together with such intelligence and musical sensitivity. But the real achievement belongs to the entire ensemble, and to Osborne herself for having the confidence to revisit her own work without being imprisoned by it. One practical recommendation: do not listen to this album through the tiny speakers of a computer or one of those devices that promise to turn every room into a concert hall. Good speakers are strongly recommended. The richness of the arrangements, the subtlety of the bass, the piano work, the rhythmic interplay and the individual contributions of these outstanding musicians deserve a proper sound system. This is an album that rewards close listening, and one that reveals more with every return. Thirty years after being captivated by “One of Us,” I find myself rediscovering Joan Osborne with an enthusiasm that has remarkably little to do with nostalgia. In 1995, she captured the sound of an era. In 2026, she has done something arguably more impressive: she has taken an album that was already excellent and made it feel astonishingly alive all over again. Relish Reimagined is not simply a successful return to the past. It is a genuinely exceptional musical achievement, a record of such quality that it deserves to stand alongside the original rather than in its shadow. In an industry that too often mistakes recycling for reinvention and streaming numbers for artistic significance, Joan Osborne and Christian McBride have delivered a rather refreshing reminder that musicianship, imagination and great songs still matter. And they matter considerably more than the number of times someone clicks on a play button. If the music business occasionally needs reminding of what an outstanding album sounds like, it could do considerably worse than spend some time with this one.
Thierry De Clemensat
Member at Jazz Journalists Association
USA correspondent for Paris-Move and ABS magazine
Editor in chief – Bayou Blue Radio, Bayou Blue News
PARIS-MOVE, November 1st, 2026
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Musicians :
Joan Osborne: Vocals (All)
Christian McBride: Acoustic Bass (1-6, 9-11), Electric Bass (7, 8)
Marc Ribot: Guitars (All), Electric Sitar (5)
Nate Smith: Drums (1, 2, 4, 5, 7-9, 11)
Caelan Cardello: Piano (1, 6, 7, 9, 10), Organ (3, 7, 8), Electric Piano (4, 5)
Renee Rosnes: Electric Piano (2, 3, 8), Piano (11)
Jerome Jennings: Drums (3, 6, 10)
Donny McCaslin: Tenor Sax (3, 9)
Justin Hicks: Background Vocals (3, 4, 6, 7, 11)
Audrey Martells: Background Vocals (3, 4, 6, 7, 11)
Track Listing:
- St. Teresa 4:01
- Man in the Long Black Coat 6:10
- Right Hand Man 4:53
- Pensacola 5:06
- Dracula Moon 4:32
- One Of Us 5:38
- Ladder 4:43
- Spider Web 6:19
- Help Me 4:44
- Crazy Baby 6:03
- Lumina 3:58
Producer: Christian McBride
Co-Producer: Joan Osborne
Recorded at Sear Sound in New York, NY – June 14-16, 2025
Engineer: Todd Whitelock
Additional Engineer: Christopher Gold
Lead Vocals Recorded at Milan Hill Music
Engineer: Justin Guip
Backing Vocals Recorded at Vinegar Hill Sound in Brooklyn, NY
Engineer: Reed Black
Assistant Engineer: Eoin O’Mara
Mixing Engineer: Todd Whitelock
Mastering Engineer: Mark Wilder