Saturday, August 23, 2008
To watch: Double Double Feature
EASY LIVING 1937
Edward Arnold, Jean Arthur, Ray Milland
written by Preston Sturges directed by Mitchell Leisen
who could ask for anything more?
THE LOST WEEKEND 1945
Ray Milland, Philip Terry, Jane Wyman, Doris Dowling
written by Charles Brackett and William Wyler from the novel by Charles Jackson, directed by William Wyler
have another round
HANDS ACROSS THE TABLE 1935
Carole Lombard, Fred MacMurray, Ralph Bellamy, Marie Prevost
written by Norman Krasnan, directed by Mitchell Leisen
polished
THE PRINCESS COMES ACROSS 1936
Carole Lombard, Fred MacMurray, William Frawley
written by Philip MacDonald, Walter DeLeon, Francis Martin, Don Hartman, and Frank Butler,
directed by William K. Howard
a killer screwball comedy
Friday, August 22, 2008
August 22, 2007 Earworm
Teen idol Friday continues with the one who started it all, Rick(y) Nelson. His music has often been dismissed by music critics with accusations of crass opportunism and flesh peddling. When faced with arguments to the contrary, it's then noted - usually in a huff - that he couldn't really sing. Right or wrong, this a mute point because everyone knows this is not a pre-requisite of rock and roll. It all reeks of sour geek grapes because the only thing Ricky Nelson is guilty of is being from a wealthy California family, being a child star, and far worse, of possessing a set of blue eyes best experienced at half mast and a bottom lip that appeared to be created for nibbling. Simply put, he was heart poundingly pretty.
Ricky never was, nor would have claimed to have been, an artist; he was a musician. Born into a musical family, he was adept at the guitar, clarinet, and drums before his pop music career began as a lie told at the end of date when his girl all but dismissed his advances in favor of the latest Elvis single on the radio. Trying to soothe his sixteen year old ego, he informed his date that he, too, was making a record. A few months later, on April 10, 1957, the world watched a terrified Ricky debut his cover of Fats Domino's "I'm Walking" and a star was born and the wordy "dreamy" was redefined.
By the end of the decade, Ricky had placed nine singles in the top twenty with all but one of them backed with a self charting b-side and sold millions of records. Most importantly, he had dismissed the idea of studio musicians backing him and formed a band that would remain a unit for ten years, ensuring a continuity of sound that was based upon the music and not a producer. This would prove to be crucial in 1959 when he felt like tampering with the idea of what a Ricky Nelson record sounded like and recorded the steamy "I Wanna Be Loved", a horny cousin to Peggy Lee's version of "Fever". Full of finger snaps and tom toms, a sleazy guitar that has to have been played by Billy Strange, Darlene Love and The Blossoms wailing like bitches in heat, and a lascivious growl from Ricky, this was no one's "Be-Bob Baby". Perhaps unsure as to how the public would take the notion of Ricky on the prowl, "I Wanna Be Loved" was issued as the b-side to a more typical Ricky rave-up, "Mighty Good". But Ricky was not the only one growing up and "I Wanna Be Loved" became the side of choice, peaking at #20 as it's flip topped out at #38. And while it may not have
stopped the perception of Ricky being dreamy, it surely had to have
altered the idea of what those dreams could contain.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
August 21, 2008 Earworm
It's not as though I'm trying to start a revival but...
I woke up singing P.J. Proby's crowning U.S. chart achievement, "Niki Hoeky", this morning. Leave it to Proby to do this with an ode to marijuana. Not that I would know this without having been told because it's all jibberish to me. That is probably why I can enjoy it without craving a brownie.
Pat and Lolly Vegas, the composers, would go on to form Redbone and P.J., of course, would continue on with his usual shenanigans.
Labels:
adnil rekab,
Lolly Vegas,
Niki Hoeky,
P.J. Proby,
Pat Vegas,
pres2go,
Redbone,
thecult45
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
August 20, 2008 Earworm
Pity the bass singer. Even in their heyday, they didn't stand a chance against the wailing falsetto's and only got a shout out once, back in '63 when Johnny Cymbal's "Mr. Bass Man" cracked the top twenty. That you're probably thinking, "Who is Johnny Cymbal" only makes the bass singer's plight more sad.
Pervis Jackson of The Spinners did manage to get some respect back in '75 when his interjections and, in particular, his time check - "12:45" - became the hook of "Games People Play" - or "They Just Can't Stop It (Games People Play)" if you bought the single late, and garnered him a nickname. As one of a school bus full of pre-pubescent boys who all attempted to prove their manliness by showing just how low we could go, I can attest to the strength of the moment; you could practically hear the testicles dropping in the aftermath.
While not one of the usual silky soul Thom Bell/Linda Creed creations for which The Spinners were known, it's story line and vocal interplay not only made it a huge hit but also kept this show tune in search of a show from completely veering into schmaltz.
So, rest in peace, Pervis "12:45" Jackson, bass man extraordinaire and puberty propeller that you were.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
August 19, 2008 Earworm
Nobody ever said that Dusty Springfield was easy and when it came time for the song selection for "Dusty In Memphis", Jerry Wexler found out just how difficult she could be when they could initially agree upon only two songs; "Son Of A Preacher Man" and "Just A Little Lovin'". Time has proven that it was a great place to start.
Wexler and engineer Tom Dowd have received plenty of flack over the years for an ever present hiss throughout "Dusty In Memphis" but I've always felt that it added to the intimacy of the album, creating the feeling of overhearing a series of confessions from the table next to yours. In the case of "Son Of A Preacher Man", it practically resonates off the guitar intro like the steam on the streets after a summer rain before being blown away by Arif Mardin's horn arrangement. And it's probably that which makes me want to open every window within reach whenever "Son Of A Preacher Man" comes on. Plus, it's the neighborly thing to do even if the neighbors don't always agree.
With the passing of Wexler last weekend, the creative team behind "Dusty In Memphis", the crew that out-Aretha'd Aretha on "Son Of A Preacher Man", are now all gone. How well we remember...
Monday, August 18, 2008
August 18, 2008 Earworm
Having slept for eighteen hours, basically missing Saturday, I was wide-ish awake when TMC aired "Roberta", the third pairing of Rogers and Astaire and the last in which they'd not receive top billing. The top honors in this outing went to Irene Dunne and Randolph Scott who left the dancing to their betters. Tucked into the sofa with the baby Nuala by my side, I was loving the chance to finally see this movie that has eluded me for years and thoroughly enjoying the whole affair until Irene let rip with her rendition of "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes". Having suffered through two previous operatic outings by Miss Dunne with polite and adorable head tilts, this proved to be the last straw for the baby Nuala who proceeded to let loose a wail of her own - with perfect pitch, I might add - which brought my house down. Actually grateful for the distraction, I managed to calm all three dogs down enough to let them quietly check the back yard for the source of that dog awful sound while I hit the replay on the tivo to catch what I missed, thumb firmly on the mute button.
Don't get me wrong, I love Irene Dunne. A lovely woman who was always the smartest one in the room in some of the best comedies of the thirties, I've been enchanted by her presence often. And I'm sure that her vocal skills were admirable in her time but her time was definitely not around 1 am on August 17, 2008.
So, I pulled out The Platters' rendition of "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" from twenty years later or fifty three years ago. Listening to Tony William's magical tenor wrapped around that beautiful lyric it occurred to me that this, too, would be found hysterical to someone hearing it for the first time. This realization made me feel quite old.
For the record, the baby Nuala recommends The Platters' version and I recommend "Roberta". Just keep your finger on the mute button if your sharing the sofa with persnickety pup.
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