I used to be a jazz snob, believe it or not. I sort of turned my nose up at anything more commercial

I used to be a jazz snob, believe it or not. I sort of turned my nose up at anything more commercial

I used to be a jazz snob, believe it or not. I was one of those people who turned up their nose at anything that seemed too mainstream or commercial. I thought that true jazz had to be complex, avant-garde, and inaccessible to the average listener. So when Norah Jones burst onto the music scene in the early 2000s with her debut album "Come Away with Me," I was skeptical, to say the least.

I remember hearing her hit single "Don't Know Why" on the radio and thinking it was pleasant enough, but not really jazz. It was too smooth, too polished, too easy-listening for my taste. I dismissed her as just another pop singer trying to cash in on the popularity of jazz music.

But as time went on, I found myself coming back to Norah Jones' music again and again. There was something about her voice that drew me in, something so pure and soulful that I couldn't resist. And the more I listened, the more I realized that there was real depth and emotion in her music. Yes, it was accessible and melodic, but it was also honest and heartfelt.

I started to explore more of Norah Jones' discography, and I was amazed at the range and versatility of her talent. From the country-tinged ballads of "Feels Like Home" to the bluesy swagger of "Little Broken Hearts," she proved that she was more than just a one-hit wonder. Her ability to blend jazz, pop, country, and folk influences into a cohesive and compelling sound was truly impressive.

I began to appreciate Norah Jones not just as a singer, but as a musician and songwriter. Her lyrics were poetic and introspective, her melodies were haunting and memorable. I realized that she was a true artist, unafraid to experiment and evolve, unafraid to challenge the boundaries of genre and style.