The New Yorker, April 10, 2000 P. 33
Talk story about Rickie Lee Jones, the magnetic singing star... As the single mother of one (she has an eleven-year-old daughter named Charlotte Rose) who lives quietly in Tacoma, Washington, with an English bulldog and some sound equipment, Jones still dresses with care, but maybe a little less flirt. She wore a gray T-shirt, a black skirt with a black lace hem, and black work boots to one of her sessions. ...Her smile was shy and seductive. As Jones presided over her session musicians—a guitarist, a bass player, a drummer, and a pianist—she smiled patiently, never backing down when they tried to resist some of her arrangements... Jones has seen a lot of musical motifs come and go, like disco and heavy metal and Lilith Fair. She was dropped from her previous record label, Mercury. But, like a number of her contemporaries—James Taylor, Neil Young, Sting—she has begun to co-produce her own studio sessions, and several record companies have lately been in a bidding war to distribute Jones and her new album....
