Vocal Jazz or EZ Listening?
I’ve referred in the past to a nice Will Friedwald book, Jazz Singing, and the effusive praise or scornful derision he heaps on various singers of the 2oth Century. He loves The Boswell Sisters (as do I), and hates The Andrews Sisters, who followed them. (Brings to mind Steve Martin’s “What I Believe” routine: “A solar eclipse is a rare and beautiful thing, while a lunar eclipse is a cheap and tawdry spectacle.”) The Boswells were so hip and adventurous; The Andrews gals, by comparison, were tame and predictable.
I think a lot of folks have a difficult time even deciding what vocal music to call jazz. One factor that distinguishes Boswell music from Andrews music is the swing feel (maybe heightened by their N’Awlins accents). Partly, it’s the era: Boswells in the hoppin’ ’30s; Andrews in the swayin’ ’40s. The Mills Brothers themselves, as Friedwald notes, were pretty jazzy on their earliest recordings. By the late thirties, they’d become MOR (but still pretty dang entertaining; when I saw them in the ’70s, I enjoyed the hell out of them).
Even on a single big band album, I think a person trying to categorize it may want to call the instrumental tracks jazz and the tracks with the singing girl up front easy listening pop. Of course, many of those big band vocalists were awfully bland and milquetoast.
Categories are not important, really, except that they can stigmatize the artist. I always want to pull Tony Bennett and Ella Fitzgerald out of record store Easy Listening bins. It seems like they’re in exile. The best vocalists transcend category. We know where to put Perry Como and Vic Damone, but there is no one perfect place to put Ella & Tony, Ray Charles, Dinah Washington, Frank Sinatra. (Except on the turntable.)
Harmony Nerd
Singing in a harmony group again. I’d forgotten how much I thrive on that. I really am a harmony nerd. My idea of a perfect party? A piano and a good piano player, a guitar or two, and a group of people harmonizing for hours. A little ale, a few snacks, but no interruptions of the music. Yes, I loves me some harmonizing.
I listen to lots of stuff other than harmony-laden songs, but I’m thinking now about some favorite harmony numbers I have on LP or CD:
The Roches: “Hammond Song,” “On the Road to Fairfax County”
The Boswell Sisters: everything
Bobby McFerrin: Circlesongs (the whole album)
The Beatles: “Yes It Is,” “There’s a Place”
Brian Wilson: “Orange Crate Art”
The Beach Boys: “”Please Let Me Wonder,” “Keep an Eye on Summer”
The Cats & the Fiddle: “Gangbusters”
Take 6: “Get Away Jordan”
The Four Freshmen: “In This Whole, Wide World”
The Mills Brothers: “Sweet & Slow”
Crosby, Stills & Nash: “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes,” “Helplessly Hoping”
Manhattan Transfer: “A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square”
The Flamingos: all their slow stuff
Lambert, Hendricks & Ross: “Moanin”
Queen: “Somebody to Love,” “We Are the Champions”
The Mamas & the Papas: “I Call Your Name,” “Twelve-Thirty”
Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks: “My Old-Timey Baby,” “I Scare Myself”
There are many, many others. These are the ones that popped into my mind. I’m glad I have people to harmonize with again.
Monk Book, Anyone?
So, here’s what happened: a good and thoughtful pal of mine noticed the recently-published bio of Thelonious Monk on the Powell’s website and decided to order it. Both of us work in the used book biz, so ordering a book new online is a rare occasion, only justified by very special stuff. Robin D.G. Kelley’s massive bio, Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original, indeed appeared to him to be worthy of the new book online purchase decision. But as my good and thoughtful pal was clicking, he thought of me and knew that this book would be just as great a treasure to me as it would be to him. So he ordered two copies and presented me with one.
I was touched and honored, but a new and much-anticipated, favorably-reviewed Monk bio was such a treasure that I had actually ordered it online back in the fall, pre-publication. My friend told me to keep the duplicate copy and do with it what I wished.
The best option, of course, would be to pass this gift along to another Monk aficionado. I thought about it. Who could I give the book to? My father-in-law was the most obvious choice. He’s a jazz buff and an avid reader. But he had been dismissive of the book when I tried to talk about it. Maybe caught him at a bad time, but I decided not to give it to him. Who else? I know some other music associates who like jazz, but not many who really love fifties mainstream jazz. I know a lot of readers but not ones who read many music bios.
I will hang on to the book, waiting for the proper recipient to be revealed. I know there’s someone out there who may tear through this book as quickly and raptly as I did. That person should have the book. And I’ll be a good and thoughtful pal.
Why I Run, Musically Speaking
One example of a benefit I get from running:
I had been considering working out a three-part harmony arrangement of the Bee Gees chestnut “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” for a few days. The harmonies are pretty basic–with potential in places for a good four-part major-seventh or major-ninth chord. But it was on the running trail, sans iPod, that I came up with the idea to do the song in a Latin beat. And it was the rhythm of my running footsteps that spurred the idea. By the end of the five-mile run, it was locked in.
Music is always a part of my running. Sometimes, I listen to my iPod Shuffle. “Monk songs by others” is one of my favorite playlists. I often include Alton Ellis, TV on the Radio, Trio Mocoto, Vampire Weekend, Don Byron. (I have very eclectic music tastes, but the basic breakdown is this: at home, jazz or vocal harmony group music on LP; in the car, world music, AAA or blues on CD; on the run, all kinds of songs with a beat, via iPod.)
Most of the time, though, I listen to music not outside my head but inside it. I wrote previously about the book What I Think About When I Think About Running, writer Haruki Murakami’s short book relating the appropriateness of the running habit to the writer’s life and thought processes. For me, musical creativity is aided by running. The rhythm of it, the solitariness of it (even when surrounded by others, but especially on a dirt bike/hike trail)–my thoughts seem to become more focused. I work out harmonies and arrangements, come up with lyrics, memorize lyrics. Very holistic.
Oh, and, yes, regular running has had very distinct health benefits. In the two-plus years I’ve been back in the habit of running regularly, I’ve had ever-fewer migraines and other types of headaches. (I used to average a couple a week.) I snore less, and I’m able to eat more without feeling bloated or unhealthy.
But it’s music that makes each run an experience I anticipate.
Vocal Harmony–Again
The Lost Serenaders found each other yet again yesterday. We didn’t sing a note, but we talked about singing. And that, I guess, is better than nothing. We seem aimless, perhaps living up to our name. Aimless could be interpreted (spun) as easy-going–not a bad thing for a trio of entertainers. That may be the only way I can settle back into this confounding singing partnership with these two great vocalistas who seem more into chat than harmony. When they sing, though, it’s powerful, so I will try once more to channel it. I need a three-part harmony arrangement of “Fool on the Hill” that doesn’t borrow too much from Sergio Mendes, or from Sir Paul either. Will get on it right away.
Reading The Lovely Bones, the first book I’ve ever read following a recommendation by my 19-year-old daughter. She loved it, except for the ending, and did not like the movie. So far, I have mixed feelings, but more good than bad. Onward.
Listening to Vic Chesnutt’s Is the Actor Happy? and a Columbia Monk & Big Band LP with the utterly captivating “Oska T” on it.
Watched parts of several Criterion/Essential Art House/Eclipse DVDs, all great movies I’ve seen before: Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast, Ozu’s Late Autumn, Lean’s Great Expectations. A wonderful way to spend an afternoon: nestling my sleeping grandbabe, sipping coffee and watching the beast and the beauty doing their dreamy dance.
The Late Vic Chesnutt
I didn’t hear about Vic Chesnutt’s Christmas Day suicide till the second week of January. I felt like I should’ve heard about it sooner, but Vic was never very widely known, certainly not enough to be noted in most year-end memoriums.
It was fitting that it was pal Walker who told me about it. It was Walker who I gave a copy of About to Choke to a few years ago; it made him into a big Vic Chesnutt fan, enough to make him want to set out across the country to Athens, Georgia, in the wee hours to track him down. We didn’t end up making the trip, but it was a tempting idea.
I had a feeling Walker would like Vic Chesnutt’s music, at once down-home and mystical, Ernest T. Bass singing over ringing minor chords. After a tentative start–when I first listened to About to Choke I found it grating and amateurish–I picked up all of Vic’s other albums, including his first, Little, on LP. But I hadn’t got hold of his last several albums after the wonderful Ghetto Bells. I will now be tracking them down, spurred, sad to say, by his death.
I think people will continue to discover Vic Chesnutt as time goes by, and he may become more appreciated than he was during his unhappy lifetime.
Best of the Decade? Impossible!
There are many end-of-decade best music lists floating around out there right now. Some are interesting; most are decidedly heavy on indie rock/Americana, and almost devoid of jazz or “world” music. There are so many releases each year now, and I know there are many I haven’t heard that, if I were to listen a few times, may make my “best of the decade” list. I’m making a list anyway. One old white guy’s opinion. The music I’ve loved and listened to the most this decade. In no particular order.
- Brian Wilson Presents Smile by Brian Wilson (2004) With the aid of some Wondermints, Van Dyke Parks and some fine young musicians, our favorite wacked-out former genius gets it all sorted out, after almost forty years. I saw them perform this album live and that locked it in as a favorite. Pleasant, interesting AND a milestone.
- Careless Love by Madeleine Peyroux (2004) A chanteuse with a slinky voice like Billie Holiday, Madeleine Peyroux makes the most of great song choices, hot playing and excellent album production by Larry Klein. Her version of Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love” is perfect.
- Reveries by Paolo Conte (2003) I wish more Americanos knew of Paolo Conte, so he’d come to the US to do more concerts. I love everything I hear him do.
- Poses by Rufus Wainwright (2001) I am a big fan of this guy; I think he’s the best songwriter of his generation. I’m a lover of harmony, which he offers a lot of, but he’s also always got meaningful lyrics, heartbtreaking melodies and unexpected arrangements. This, his second album, is my favorite.
- Band of Gypsies by Taraf de Haidouks (2001) Real gypsy musicians (well, Roumanian anyway) playing real Eastern European instruments like the cymbalom, which I never get tired of hearing. (Anyone know where I can get me a nice cymbalom?) Favorite song: “Absinth I Drink You, Absinth I Eat You.”
- A Boot and a Shoe by Sam Phillips (2004) Sam’s Hubby-at-the-time T-Bone Burnett produced this great album and the sound is like no other album I’ve heard, except maybe a few other T-Bone-produced albums. Ms. Phillips’s songs are well-served by the quirky arrangements and instrumentation.
- Samba Rock by Trio Mocoto (2001) This Brazilian group does, well, samba-style rock. And more, but always with Brazilian flavor-and-beats. Lots o’ fun. Their album Beleza! Beleza! Beleza! has more standout cuts, maybe, but this one is consistently great.
- Abbey Sings Abbey by Abbey Lincoln (2007) The voice of this Grand Old Lady of jazz has aged very well. The cracks and strains are the sound of wisdom and experience. A great set of Abbey Lincoln originals (plus a Monk tune) that edges out her other albums partly because of the unusual instrument choices: resonator guitar, accordion, cello, on top of a nice jazz rhythm section.
- Modern Times by Bob Dylan (2006) I like this one more than Love and Theft, and I like it almost as much as Blood on the Tracks. OK, maybe that’s stretching it. But outside of BOTT, I bet that in the next ten years I’ll have listened to this one more than I’ve listened to any other Bob Dylan album.
- Greetings from Michigan, the Great Lakes State by Sufjan Stevens (2003) Paste magazine chose Sufjan’s Illinoise album as the best of the decade. I like that one a lot, but I prefer this one. Both have the same mix of quirky tunes and instruments (banjo and strings, French horn and bells). Waiting for the next state…
There are some recent albums that could encroach upon these selections after more listening time: Vampire Weekend, Historicity by Vijay Iyer, Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest, Herbie Hancock’s The Joni Letters.
Cool Runnings–Too Cool
I’d rather run when it’s 95 degrees than when it’s 45. I just don’t like running in cold weather, especially when the wind is blowing. And when it’s getting dark. I run throughout the winter, but I don’t enjoy it. And I don’t run as far. And I eat more.
I’d also rather run 7-and-a-half miles on a dirt trail than 3 miles on a paved trail. Between rain and the shorter days of the season, I haven’t been on a dirt trail in a couple of months and I miss it.
So, I’m looking forward to another spring and summer of dirt and sweat, heat and thirst.
I did get a couple of non-Monk CDs for Christmas, including the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss album. I’d heard parts of it before. Like so many other folks, I was pleasantly surprised by this unlikely combo. Gotta listen a few more times to get it sunk in, but my favorite on first run-through is “Please Read the Letter,” the only song Mr. Plant had a hand in writing. Very nice.
Reading Alice Munro’s latest short story collection, Too Much Happiness. Excellent, as always, possibly as great as Runaway. Like Thelonious Monk’s music, Alice Munro’s stories are almost without exception wonderful. These two are on the short, short list of creative artists whose work I appreciate, whether early or late in their careers.
Pops
Moving slow today, the result of two beers I had last night “partying” with the family. Could resolve not to drink beer, or could resolve that, since having two beers gives me a hangover, I may as well have seven or eight, plus a shot or two of Cuervo. Feel about the same the next day.
Reading Pops: A Life of Louis Armstrong, the new bio by Terry Teachout. It’s well-written and thorough, bringing new information and vantage points to the many well-known aspects of Satchmo’s life and his music.
It’s a nice book to jump into after reading Jazz Singing, in which Satchmo/ Pops/Louis figures so prominently, and after Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original. I haven’t yet made the transition from Monk music over to Armstrong music, however. I have too many new albums of Monk music to listen to. It kind of takes over my head every once in a while and I can’t listen to much of anything else. Got several tunes that aren’t heard as often running around in there: “Oska T.,” “Light Blue,” “Bright Mississippi,” “Played Twice.”
Except that all four members of The Gents, a four-part harmony group I used to have the pleasure of singing with, were present at an annual New Year’s Day party this afternoon, and we did our best–after not singing together for so many years–on “Graduation Day,” “You’re Gonna Lose That Girl,” “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire,” and others. No reason we couldn’t get together every now and then and run through a few of these numbers. Get out our dickies and blazers and plaid pants and warble in close harmony.
