I was thinking today.
That aside, I realized that I have acquired a large amount of knowledge over my half-century about music. Not the music of my generation. Oh no, this is about my knowledge of the 30’s and 40’s standards.
I remember thinking when I was a teenager that I was a misplaced bobbysoxer from the 1940’s who died in a hideous accident, crushed to death by hundreds of teenage girls in the Sinatra Riots of 1942. It really happened, thousands of young girls screaming and rushing the doors of the theater, and then rushing the stage inside the theater. Elvis and The Beatles weren’t the first to have this experience Anyway, I loved this music so much that I romanticized myself being trampled to death my teenage peers while waiting for a glimpse of “Young Blue Eyes”. Then, in 1957, I was reincarnated into the person I am today. If this is a confusing story line I apologize. The photo above gives you an idea of what I mean, and the rest you’ll just have to research yourself.
I loved rock and roll, and still do, but it seems that one way or another I always fall back on those old classics. Standards listened by the High Fidelity Stereo record player that was my mother’s pride and joy. I understand where this fascination comes from, but not everyone in my age bracket loved the music of their parents. In fact, it was usually the case that they rebelled and mocked it.
Sometimes I did too, but I was disingenuous.
So after going through some old photos this afternoon looking for a muse, I found myself humming this one particular song. I’m not sure why, I don’t recall it being a favorite around the house, though I do remember it being played. I’m fairly sure that it was Sinatra coming from the Hi-Fi because that’s the version in my head. I must have learned it at a very young age, because I can still remember all the words.
So many copies of this song. Every standard vocalist of the day recorded it: Mel Torme, Rosemary Clooney, Bing Crosby, and Sarah Vaughn.
I started to go on my quest. My favorite of a favorite quest. I began with Spotify and found such a wide variety of versions. Instrumentals, barber shop quartet, jazz, pop, and one interesting version by an ensemble called Huub Jansen and His Amazing Jazz Band. I’m fairly certain Huub is from the Midwest, judging by his accent. And as far as amazing goes, I’ll let you decide – look it up sometime and let me know what you think.
The search left me with two versions that were my favorite. Usually I can choose quickly, but today was different. One is by Cass Elliot and the other was Iggy Pop, who sang it as a duet with French songstress Francoise Hardy.
I love Cass Elliot. I believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that had she lived she would have been a vocal force in musical history.
But I’m going with Iggy.
This version has a very poignant sound to it. It’s a sound that brings something out in the song that I don’t think I have ever felt before today.
Plus that it’s Iggy-freakin-Pop.
I wonder if Iggy is the reincarnate of Cab Calloway?
It’s just a thought.