Review: Ben Jones Sings Timeless Classics at Laurie Beechman Theater

“The joke’s on us,” Ben Jones quipped in his cabaret TIMELESS. “The American Songbook isn’t 100 years old.” But that’s often how he creates his cabarets: “Come up with an idea, sell it, market it—then write it.” He admitted that he had no idea the American Songbook hadn’t yet reached the century mark.

The earliest song he performed was the jazz standard “Embraceable You,” written by George and Ira Gershwin in 1928. Beginning the song quietly and tenderly—perhaps singing directly to his wife seated in the audience—he let it swell into a big, belting finish. At the other end of the timeline was John Legend’s “All of Me” from 2013, delivered with delicate phrasing and heartfelt restraint. It was the only entry from this century.

“Figuring out which songs belong in the American Songbook,” Jones suggested, “is still very much an ongoing process.” The question remained open: what exactly qualifies a song for the American Songbook? Originally, it was about counting sheet music sales. Later, it was album sales. Today, it’s downloads and streaming. But there are more factors that go into it too.

The evening opened with “Sir Duke” and “The Best Is Yet to Come,” establishing a pattern that continued throughout the show: even if you know the song, Jones and his band make it sound newly discovered. Intricate runs on the string bass and electric guitar gave these arrangements a fresh, inventive feel. The next two songs featured those same musicians again, this time with extended solos. Watching Jones savor their work made clear how deeply he loves both the music and the musicianship—particularly in “Ain’t No Sunshine” and “People Will Say We’re in Love.” Bravo to guitarist Oz Noy and bassist Yuka Tadano (switching between upright and electric bass), along with drummer Jed Feder.

Jones also took time to honor his pianist and musical director Ron Abel, wishing him a happy 75th birthday following the celebration the night before. His admiration, gratitude, and affection were unmistakable—especially during “Bridge Over Troubled Water” when the two harmonized cheek to cheek at the keyboard. The pair have created five cabarets together. Jones recalled hearing Abel play for the first time and thinking, “Who the fuck is that?”—a reaction he likened to the one Burt Bacharach reportedly had upon hearing Dionne Warwick, which led to a rendition of “Anyone Who Had a Heart,” paying tribute to artistic partnerships.

Bob Dylan has also left a deep mark on Jones, and his rendition of “Make You Feel My Love” proved it. In the banter between songs, Jones reflected on how our relationship to music has changed over time. The American Songbook has had a couple major turning points throughout time—the invention of the LP changed everything. “Frank Sinatra,” Jones noted, “turned long playing albums into an evening’s listening experience,” with songs curated for both sides of the record. Then, in 1999, Napster and global file-sharing once again transformed how audiences encounter music.

It’s clear that Jones has strong thespian roots. When he steps into the world of a song, he does so as an actor, fully and emotionally committed. His performance of Stephen Sondheim’s “Being Alive” from Company earned the loudest and longest applause of the evening.

When talking about teaching his children how to listen to music, Jones shared a charming story about deliberately placing the record player low enough for them to learn how to handle vinyl—how to lift the needle and flip an album from one side to the other. “Of course,” he added, “this came after they learned to say, ‘Alexa, play Ben Jones.’”

For his encore, Jones turned to a non-American—one he nevertheless feels deserves a place in the Songbook conversation. The musical introduction playfully misled the audience with a hint of Disney’s “When You Wish Upon a Star” before seamlessly sliding into John Lennon’s “Imagine.”

With his handsome presence, the sparkle in his eye, easy smile with humor, and the tender intimacy of his singing—balanced by bursts of theatricality and thrilling key changes—Jones holds the audience with him every step of the way. By the end of the evening, listeners seemed to feel exactly what he expressed through Joni Mitchell’s lyrics: “I could drink a case of you, darling.”

Learn more about Ben Jones and where to follow him online on his website at www.benjonessinger.com