Norah Jones at The Bell House: A Casual Night Among Neighbors

If I was ever going to see  perform live, I could not have hoped to see her any other way than exactly as I did last Friday night—from 10 feet away, surrounded by friends and fans, in a setting as intimate as the music she makes. And so it was that with a set list of songs from her latest album Little Broken Hearts and a sprinkling of early classics, the Belle of Brooklyn cast her spell for two hours on we few hundred listeners at  in Gowanus.

Like most people, I fell hard for Norah a decade ago. With the success of her debut album, 2002’s Come Away With Me, it felt like everyone in the world instantly acknowledged and accepted her as the newest permanent presence in American popular music. She had an undeniable talent that appealed to music snobs and mainstreamers alike. She was sexy and sultry, but completely accessible, with a voice that dripped with effortlessness. She was of impeccable musical stock and to top it all off, she could not have been more adorable.

Furthermore, in the years that followed, she walked a path rarely taken by sudden successes and never once let us down, with subsequent albums that were every bit as beautiful as her first. We’ve known for a long time that Norah wasn’t going anywhere, and now that she was here, at home, , I couldn’t wait to experience her live for the first time.

The opening act was fellow Little Willy Jim Campilongo, who very ably entertained the early crowd for half an hour with his unique style of guitar instrumentals. Accompanied by a drummer and upright bassist, he and his Telecaster commanded well-deserved attention and applause, shifting from adventurous and upbeat arrangements to subtler, more melodic numbers, and putting the crowd in the perfect mood for what came next.

The stage was awash in soft purple lighting as Norah and her band stepped out and began the hypnotic “Good Morning,” the opening track and one of the best from her new album. One after another, she performed every title from Little Broken Hearts, a work of 12 songs co-written and produced by Rome collaborator Brian “Danger Mouse” Burton. Having run through the album several times and now having seen it performed live, I must say: Little Broken Hearts is good, but what it’s not is great.

Burton’s fingerprints are all over it, and as undeniably tasteful as he can be, his style is getting a bit predictable. For example the track “Say Goodbye,” though still one of the album’s shining moments thanks to Jones’s vocals, suffers from a beat that, while catchy, feels like it might have been a discard from Burton’s Broken Bells sessions with Shins principal James Mercer. And though it works, it leaves the listener wishing for something they had never heard before. That’s not to say that the album doesn’t strike further gold, as her performance of songs like the haunting “Miriam” and the aptly titled “Happy Pills” were undeniably brilliant. But by and large, I found the album, both live and recorded, highly listenable and not at all remarkable.

That is to take nothing away from her performance, as her 10 years of stage experience radiated over two hours. Her renditions of classic tracks were particularly special. “Lonestar” snuck up on me like a rekindled childhood memory, forgotten for a time but still so familiar that I found myself singing along without even thinking. The vision of her tickling the keys during “Cold Cold Heart,” or sitting alone at the piano as she sang her signature “Don’t Know Why,” have taken their places as musical moments I’ll remember forever.

By far the show’s most spectacular moment was when her band came back on stage for an encore acoustic version of “Sunrise,” the opening track from 2004’s Feels Like Home. As the five of them gathered around a condenser mic and she strummed the first few chords on her dreadnought, we knew at once that we were in the presence of something extraordinary and beautiful.In addition to experiencing a great night of music from a world class talent just a five minute walk from my apartment, I also learned a thing or two about this Brooklyn native with whom I’ve been so enamored for so long.

For one, she’s a dynamite pianist. Her chops were solid, and her solos were sublime and unpredictable.

For another, she’s a tiny little thing. While every bit as beautiful as I expected her to be, I was surprised to see that she just barely breaks five feet. She also has a positively entrancing aura about her. From the moment she stepped on stage to the moment she waved goodbye, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. The occasional exception came from Jason Roberts, a veteran of the Brooklyn indie scene, who spoke with eloquent chaos through several outstanding, inspired guitar solos throughout the set.

At the end of the night, as the crowd funneled out or loitered among the merchandise booths and lingering musicians from the evening’s performances, I had a feeling of satisfaction.

As a Titan of my musical universe, the Norah I had come to see carried the heavy burden of my own personal expectations on her shoulders, built up over 10 years of love for her music.

As ever, she didn’t let me down.