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Carol Welsman

Carol Welsman

She’s tall, blonde and beautiful. She’s been playing piano and singing professionally for well over a decade. She’s Canadian. And she’s distinctly not Diana Krall. Purposefully more pop than her compatriot, Welsman appreciates that her entree into the U.S. market with The Language of Love, her fifth CD and Savoy debut, will inevitably elicit comparisons. “I can’t think of anyone better to be compared to,” says the transplanted Torontonian from her L.A. home. “I think Diana is great. But what I do is quite different. I tend to improvise a lot and to scat solos. Also, I do all sorts of styles, including funk and Brazilian, [and] I sing in four languages.”

Blessed with a musical integrity and vocal purity that suggest a female Mel Tormé, Welsman comes by her impressive chops honestly. Her grandfather founded the Toronto Symphony in 1906. She sang before she could talk, climbing onto a highchair and cutting loose with a pitch-perfect rendition of “Clementine” at age one.

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