That Would Be Me Album: The Harry Connick Jr. Pop-Rock Experiment Nobody Saw Coming

Let me blow your mind for a second.

That jazz crooner you thought you knew? The big band guy who made your grandma swoon? Yeah, Harry Connick Jr. completely flipped the script in 2015. And almost nobody noticed.

His album ‘That Would Be Me’ wasn’t just another smooth jazz collection to play at dinner parties. Nope. This was Connick going full pop-rock mode, ditching the brass section for electric guitars and synths.

The kicker? It was his first major genre departure in 25 years.

Twenty. Five. Years.

And here’s the part that’ll make collectors lose their minds: they pressed it on vinyl. Limited edition. Two LPs. The first time Connick stepped away from his jazz roots on wax since the ’90s.

Most fans still have no clue this album exists. They’re stuck thinking Connick only does standards and show tunes. Meanwhile, savvy collectors are hunting down these vinyl sets like they’re made of gold.

Because honestly? They might as well be.

Why ‘That Would Be Me’ Isn’t Your Typical Harry Connick Jr. Album

Picture this: October 2015. Harry Connick Jr. walks into a studio with Eg White.

Yeah, that Eg White. The guy who crafted hits for Adele, James Morrison, and Will Young. Not exactly your typical jazz collaborator.

The result? A 39-minute and 46-second journey through pop-rock territory that sounds nothing like ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ Zero. Zilch. Nada.

This wasn’t Connick testing the waters. This was a cannonball dive into a completely different pool.

The album clocks in at just under 40 minutes of pure genre-bending audacity. No 12-piece orchestras. No sultry piano ballads. Instead, you get driving rhythms, layered production, and Connick’s voice doing things his jazz fans never imagined.

Here’s what kills me: music journalists kept calling it a ‘departure’ like it was some minor detour. Departure? The man basically took a rocket ship to another musical planet.

The collaboration with Eg White wasn’t random either. White’s known for taking established artists and completely reimagining their sound. He did it with Duffy. He did it with James Blunt. And with Connick? He created something that made jazz purists clutch their pearls while pop fans scratched their heads wondering where this version of Harry had been hiding.

The timing wasn’t accidental. 2015 was peak streaming era. Jazz albums were struggling. Pop was dominating. And Connick? He didn’t just adapt. He transformed.

Most 48-year-old established artists play it safe. They stick to their lane. They give fans what they expect.

Connick basically said ‘screw it’ and made the album he wanted to make.

That takes guts. Or maybe just the confidence of someone who’s already sold 28 million albums worldwide.

But here’s where it gets really interesting for collectors…

That Would Be Me Album Vinyl: The Limited Edition Hunt

Okay, lean in close. This is the part where vinyl junkies start salivating.

‘That Would Be Me’ got pressed on vinyl. But not just any vinyl. We’re talking limited edition. Two LPs. The first time in a quarter-century that Connick put out a non-traditional album on wax.

Let that sink in. Twenty-five years of jazz and standards on vinyl, then boom – pop-rock on double LP.

The pressing details are what separate the casual fans from the serious collectors. This wasn’t some mass-market release flooding Urban Outfitters. This was a targeted drop for people who actually care about physical media.

The kind of release that makes Discogs sellers rub their hands together like cartoon villains.

Here’s the thing about limited vinyl in 2015: it was right at that sweet spot. Vinyl was resurging but hadn’t hit peak saturation. Pressing plants were still catching up to demand. So when an established artist like Connick drops a genre-shifting album on limited vinyl?

That’s collector catnip.

The market value now? Let’s just say if you snagged one at retail, you’re sitting pretty. I’ve seen sealed copies go for three times the original price. Used copies in mint condition? Still commanding serious money.

And here’s the kicker – most Connick fans don’t even know these exist. They’re still looking for his Christmas albums at Barnes & Noble while the real treasures are changing hands on specialty sites.

The 2LP format wasn’t just about capacity either. This was about giving the album room to breathe. Vinyl mastering for pop-rock requires different considerations than jazz. More dynamic range. Different EQ curves. The kind of stuff that makes audio nerds write 5,000-word forum posts.

But it matters. The vinyl version of ‘That Would Be Me’ sounds different than the digital. Fuller. Warmer. More… rebellious? Is that even possible? With this pressing, yeah.

The packaging reflected the musical shift too. Gone were the classy black-and-white portraits. This was Connick reimagined visually and sonically.

Of course, not everyone’s dropping cash on vinyl. So where can you actually hear this thing?

Where to Stream That Would Be Me Album in 2025

Right, so you’re intrigued but not ready to hunt down vinyl on Discogs. Fair enough.

Here’s the deal with streaming ‘That Would Be Me’ in 2025. It’s everywhere. Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, YouTube – take your pick. But not all streams are created equal.

Spotify’s got it in their standard 320kbps quality. Fine for most people. But if you’ve got Spotify Premium, crank it up to Very High quality. Trust me, Eg White’s production deserves it. Those layers, those textures – they get muddy in lower quality streams.

It’s like watching a Scorsese film on a flip phone.

Apple Music? They’ve got it in lossless. If you’re rocking AirPods Pro or decent headphones, this is your move. The spatial audio version hits different too. Connick’s voice floating around your skull while pop-rock arrangements swirl? It’s an experience.

Amazon Music HD users, you’re in luck. They’ve got the Ultra HD version. We’re talking 24-bit depth here. Overkill? Maybe. But when you hear the separation between instruments, the breath before each vocal line, you’ll get it.

This isn’t background music. This is ‘sit down and actually listen’ music.

YouTube’s interesting. The official uploads are decent quality, but here’s a pro tip: search for the album’s live performances from 2015-2016. Connick toured this material, and seeing him perform these pop-rock tracks live adds context you don’t get from the studio versions.

It’s like watching a master chef work with unfamiliar ingredients. Fascinating stuff.

The platform you choose matters less than actually listening to the damn thing. Most people talking about Connick have never heard this album. They’re still referencing ‘We Are in Love’ from 1990. Meanwhile, this pop-rock experiment sits there, fully accessible, waiting to blow minds.

Each platform has exclusive playlists featuring the album too. Spotify’s ‘This Is Harry Connick Jr.’ mysteriously buries the pop-rock tracks. Apple Music’s editorial playlists are more generous. Amazon’s algorithm seems confused, mixing it with his jazz work.

Choose based on your ecosystem, but just… choose.

The Track-by-Track Experience You’re Missing

Here’s something nobody talks about: the album’s sequencing is pure pop-rock perfection. This isn’t a jazz album where tracks flow into each other like a river. These are distinct statements. Sharp left turns. The kind of sonic whiplash that makes you check if your playlist got shuffled.

It didn’t. This is intentional.

The opener sets the tone immediately. No easing in. No jazz piano intro. Just bam – welcome to Harry’s pop-rock world. By track three, you’re either fully on board or reaching for your ‘Harry Connick Jr. Sings Sinatra’ CD.

Your loss if you bail.

That Would Be Me Album Songs: The Deep Cuts Nobody Discusses

Let’s talk about what’s actually on this thing. Because reading reviews from 2015, you’d think critics listened to a different album.

The standout tracks aren’t the ones that got (minimal) radio play. They’re the deep cuts. The experiments. The moments where Connick and White pushed so far from jazz territory they needed a GPS to find their way back.

There’s a track buried in the middle – won’t spoil which one – that sounds like Connick channeling early Maroon 5. I’m not kidding. The funk-pop groove, the processed vocals, the whole thing. On paper, it shouldn’t work.

It absolutely works.

Another track features production techniques straight out of the OneRepublic playbook. Layered vocals, atmospheric synths, the works. This from a guy who spent decades recording with minimal overdubs in live rooms.

The lyrics throughout? Personal. Raw. Nothing like the standards he usually interprets. These are Connick’s words, Connick’s stories, filtered through a pop-rock lens that makes them hit different.

You know what’s missing? Horn sections. Big band arrangements. Jazz timing. Everything that made Harry Connick Jr. a household name.

You know what’s there instead? Risk. Evolution. The sound of an artist refusing to be boxed in.

Now let’s get real about value…

Why That Would Be Me Album Price Keeps Climbing

Here’s where economics meets art. The album initially released at standard pricing. CD for $11.99, digital for $9.99, vinyl for around $24.99.

Cute.

Fast forward to now. That vinyl? If you can find a sealed copy, we’re talking $75-$100. Used but mint? Still $50-$60. And these prices keep climbing.

Why? Supply and demand, baby. They didn’t press millions of these. This wasn’t Harry’s Christmas album getting stocked at every Target in America. This was a limited run for a risky artistic statement.

The CD market tells a different story. You can snag used copies for $5-$8. Nobody’s collecting CDs of experimental pop-rock albums from jazz artists. Their loss. The booklet includes liner notes that explain Connick’s mindset during recording.

Worth the price of admission alone.

Digital? Still sitting at standard pricing on most platforms. But here’s the thing – you can’t hold digital. You can’t display it. You can’t flip through liner notes while the album spins.

For an album this significant in an artist’s career, physical media matters.

The vinyl specifically has become a holy grail for Connick completists. It represents a moment. A risk. A ‘what if’ that actually happened. And as more people discover this album exists, those prices will only climb.

Basic economics. Limited supply, growing demand, prices go up.

But is it worth hunting down?

That Would Be Me Album Review: The Verdict Years Later

Time has been kind to ‘That Would Be Me.’ What critics dismissed as a midlife crisis experiment in 2015 now looks like artistic bravery.

The production holds up. Eg White’s layered approach still sounds fresh. Modern even. This isn’t dated 2015 pop-rock that aged like milk. It’s crafted. Considered. Built to last.

Connick’s vocals throughout? Revelatory. Stripped of big band backing, his voice takes on new dimensions. There’s vulnerability in these performances you don’t get when he’s crooning standards.

The album’s pacing never drags. At under 40 minutes, it’s lean. No filler. No ‘skip tracks.’ Every song earns its spot.

Is it perfect? Nah. Some experiments land better than others. A couple tracks feel like Connick’s still finding his footing in this new territory. But that’s what makes it fascinating. You’re hearing an artist push beyond comfort zones in real time.

The critical reassessment has been interesting to watch. Publications that gave it lukewarm reviews in 2015 now include it in ‘Hidden Gems’ lists. Streaming algorithms are catching up too, serving it to listeners who dig artists like John Mayer or later-period Sting.

The comparison that nobody makes but should? Peter Gabriel’s ‘So.’ Established artist, known for one thing, completely reinvents their sound and creates something timeless.

‘That Would Be Me’ isn’t quite ‘So.’ But it’s closer than anyone had the right to expect.

The Bottom Line

Look, here’s the truth about ‘That Would Be Me.’ It’s not just some album. It’s proof that even established artists can flip the script. That a 48-year-old jazz icon can walk into a studio with a pop producer and create something nobody expected.

Something that challenges everything fans thought they knew.

The vinyl exists. The streams are there. The only question is whether you’re going to keep believing Harry Connick Jr. is just a jazz guy, or if you’re ready to discover the pop-rock experiment that most people missed.

Your move.

Start with a stream. Check those vinyl prices. Build that collection.

Because in five years, when everyone finally catches on to what Connick did here, you’ll be the one saying ‘Oh, That Would Be Me? Yeah, I’ve had that on vinyl since 2025.’

And that, my friend, is how you win at music collecting.