Ain't Miss Peggy lookin' fresh?
That's Miss Peggy Lee to us mere mortals, and she's just one of the stars in this truly fantastic Cole Porter compilation. Yes, the cover art is grimly generic - no one broke any crayons making this one, amirite? - but don't let it fool you. It's from the folks at Ultra-Lounge, which means that it's chock-a-block with red-hot cuts from Julie London, Ella Fitzgerald and more. Nat King Cole has the opening track, "Just One Of Those Things," and it's a rousing, trumpet-blasting marvel.
I'd like a day at the beach without having to worry about wearing a fakakta mask. Wouldn't that be nice? Remember when? Yeah, I don't either.
Speaking of beaches and boats 'n' things, have you ever seen "
Knife in the Water?" Yes, Roman Polanski is "cancelled" now - and for good reason - but if you can separate the artist from the art (I can) (and often do), his chilling debut film is a must stream.
Not only is the movie brilliant, so is the soundtrack, which introduced a wide audience to the jazz stylings of Krzysztof Komeda, a swingin', hard boppin', 1960's-era Polish jazz phenom who tragically left us at age thirty-seven when he tumbled at a party, whacked his head, and died shortly thereafter. Yikes!
His music lives on, thankfully, and despite the slasher movie cover art of this collection, it's one of the happiest, rhythmically boisterous, jazz LPs you're likely to hear, bristling with wowza piano work and head-turning, original compositions. Even at his young age, many critics considered him a master. Trust me, you want.
Are you feeling exotic? Or exotica? Is there are difference when can move your hips like this?
Believe me, if I tried some of those moves, someone would invariably cry out, "Don't pop a hip, Cassie!" And if you knew that line was from "A Chorus Line," you're officially an old. Me? I'm 39. Always 39. AnywayI'mgettingofftopic, if you're feeling the voodoo you doo, there's no better musical practitioner than Les Baxter, a swing band leader who segued into "exotic" music in the mid-1950s and collaborated with the starry likes of Yma Sumac. It's the pinnacle of exotic lounge music and a luscious treat. I know you'll thank me, and I know your cat will thank me, too, because someone has finally translated their thoughts into music.
If you were a dancing gigglepuss in the U.K. in the 1930s, chances are you were shimmying and shaking to Bert Ambrose and his orchestra, or as he was known publicly, Ambrose, just Ambrose, because if you're that hep, you only need one name (like Cher!).
I stumbled upon this LP without knowing what delights lay in store. And believe me, it's the epitome of cheerful music. Active mostly in the 1930s and 40s, Ambrose's Big Band dance orchestra performed regularly to packed crowds at starry nightspots like Ciro's or Cafe de Paris. If you're even slightly inclined toward Big Band sounds, this is definitely for you, and if you're not, you will be. You'll see.
The other day, I informed The Secret Song File that the U.S. Presidential election is less than 50 days away. This was her response:
I asked her what she meant by that baleful cry and she stated simply, "Vote Blue or fuck you." Oucha-magowcha! Sometimes she's that blunt. Yet right now, she wants desperately to escape from the scream-worthy day-to-day. She wants something whimsical, but not twee; breezy, but not insubstantial. If your kisser is burning just thinking about that - *cough*obvious*c'mon now* - then this fresh-as-fresh release is just for you.
Sometimes screaming really does help.
Cry like a banshee in the comments, if you like!
