Queen Anita, Mouse Jazz, Jane's Creamy Dream, Plus Time With Phil And An Old Meets New Secret Song!

Yes, more Anita. I can't help myself! I hope you don't mind (you don't, do you?). Oh, and I so want that playing card above of her as The Queen of Diamonds (it really exists). Gimmie-gimmie-gimmie. And I'm sure she'd approve of it being diamonds, too - instead of hearts, for example - since she changed her last name from "Colton" to "O'Day." Why? Because "O'Day" is Pig Latin for "dough," that's why. Yes, she's just that kind of gal.

A Cat For Glass, The Archie's Sugar, Plus Delicious (New) Saint-Germaine Jazz, And A Wooden Rock Secret Song!

Having failed to find a suitable picture of Philip Glass playing the piano - he's not the most attractive berry in the patch, you know - I offer you instead a handsome pussycat who's just about ready to practice his scales and arpeggios.

As for Philip Glass, yes, I've accused him of borrowing from Herrmann too much, and occasionally I poke fun at his style (when needed, of course) (is his music the equivalent of spirographs, or what?). But even I recognize the power of his work overall, which at its best is more hypnotizing than that of most composers alive today (and quite a few dead ones, too).

His talent is on full display in this 2003 collection of studies, or "etudes" for solo piano (by the way, there's really no reason to call it "etudes" instead of "studies" unless you're pretentious) (but this is Phillip Glass, so we'll let him get away with it) (for now). They're lighter in spirit then you expect with Glass - and utterly charming, too. Is he the best pianist in the world? No, and even he'll admit that, but this lovely CD casts a wonderful spell.

I'm not even going to try to make a graceful segue from Phillip Glass to The Archies. Why should I? They both have their place in any one's musical library. You can't "etude" all day long, if you know what I mean. Or to put it plainly, I've never trusted anyone who says they're too refined for a little cheesy pop here and there (it's an inhuman position and I don't believe them) (kind of like saying you never have dessert after dinner because your body's a temple) (to which I say, "Pretty boring temple you got there") (but I digress). Besides, there's no denying it, The Archies' music is fun!

The songs for the 1960's-era animated cartoon could have been throwaways, but they weren't, and if the animated series is remembered at all, it's because of the impossibly bright music created by producer/songwriter Jeff Berry, who wrote for Neil Diamond and Carole King; producer/songwriter Ellie Greenwich, a 60's girl-group writer for The Ronettes and The Shangri-Las; songwriter Andy Kim, who wrote for Phil Spector; and lead singer Ron Dante, who later became a producer for Barry Manilow, Cher and Pat Benatar. I know, right? How's that for a list of credits? And all for a Saturday morning cartoon!

Not surprisingly, many of the songs in this collection became top 10 hits - the only time in music history that I can think of in which TV music charted so high - including "Sugar, Sugar," "Bang-Shang-a-Lang" and more. Is it bubble gum music? Yes, of course. But it's also great bubble gum music.

Remember the Saint-Germain-Des-Pres Cafe mix CDs back in the 90's? A lot of them were terrific - and still are - but as the series dragged on, it lost its way. I became aware of one of their more current releases a while back, and while I liked it, it still didn't capture that special magic of the original releases. But this new one hits the sweet spot, I swear.

I don't know who half the songwriters and singers are on this 2-disc collection (a bunch of vaguely Euro-sounding peeps; and that's not a knock, I'm just not familiar with them), but I so-o-o-o promise, it's fizzy electro-jazz fun for everyone, and without being too boorishly computer-ish sounding. Somehow, it achieves just the right balance between the new and the old. At last.

Age is something the Secret Song File never worries about. Why? Look below. Ageless. Like Renee Zellweger Grace Jones. It's why this spanking new CD from a certain psychedelic rock band - their second! - is so satisfying, and why The Secret Song File has it on heavy rotation. It's sort of a throwback to the likes of The Velvet Underground, but it's loopy and fresh-sounding, too (the group's from San Francisco) (of course) (I mean that in a good way).

Is it wooden? Yes! Is it the holy mountain of music? Maybe, but who knows if the moon is shrinking. Do vampires get the blues? Are these hints helping? Who can tell? But you're just a click away from neo-psychedelia space rock fun.

I ask you, who out there makes the distinction between "space rock" and "psychedelic rock?"

Split a few hairs in the comments, if you like!

The Semi-Annual "That's So Strange" Post With Oliva, Herrmann, Brown Bunnies, Jaye P, And A 16-Year-Old Secret Song!

Sometimes things in life are strange. And I mean that in a good way. Who would have thought, for example, that the lovely Gene Tierney - she was one of Hollywood's most elegant movie stars - would inspire a wee little piano aria? And Piper Laurie? And Robert Ryan? Oh, and can we back up for a moment and talk about Gene's hat? That hat! It's all about that hat.

Okay, so on to this Tinkling Keys Cheerful Exclusive! All three - Gene, Piper and Ryan - get piano portraits from Stephan Oliva, a France-born composer and pianist who candidly worships Herrmann (you might recognize Herrmann's signature minor/major seventh chord in the "After Dark Suite"). Oliva's an acquired taste, I'll admit, but he's also an original, and if you clear every thought from your mind, sit back, and hit play, you'll be transported.

Let's move on to Vincent Gallo's paid-for-BJ, shall we? Hide the kittens! They really shouldn't see this:

"The Brown Bunny," as you might recall, is a 2003 film that killed Roger Ebert, or at least director Vincent Gallo thought so, and he wanted credit for it. I haven't seen "The Brown Bunny," but I remember reading Roger's original Cannes review (it was a pan, to put it mildly), which prompted a furious Vincent to call Ebert a "fat pig" and wish cancer upon him. Ebert's response was classic: "Although I am fat, one day I will be thin, but Mr. Gallo will always be the director of 'The Brown Bunny.'"

Here's where the strange part comes in. Gallo next shaved 20 minutes or so for the film's commercial release - and Roger liked it. And the soundtrack? Given that the movie supposedly harkens back to the restlessness of 60's and 70's road movies like "Easy Rider" and "Two Lane Blacktop," it's likewise a daydreamy-restless collection of moody jazz, songs by the likes of Gordon Lightfoot, and haunting melodies from composer John Frusciante. It (almost) makes me want to see the movie - and that really is strange.

If you were a teensy li'l crumb-catcher in the mid 1970's and early 80's, then you might recognize a certain bespectacled game show perennial below:

It's Jaye P. Morgan, of course, the mischievous wit of "The Match Game," "The Gong Show," and many others. That's not the strange part. In addition to her TV appearances and a short-lived series, she was also a celebrated 1950's-era singer and a popular nightclub performer throughout the 60's. That's not the strange part, either.

Here's what's strange - in a good way. She put out a CD in 1983 called "Lately!," a Wonderful Surprise Cheerful Exclusive!, and it's fantastic. And no, I'm not kidding. In addition to some cool slow jams and standards, she opens the set with her own take on The Police's hit "Every Breath You Take," and it's every bit as wistful and menacing as the original. **NEW LINK!

Look at our friend Bernard Herrmann. Is he tired of Hitchcock? No, he just thinks it's strange that Phillip Glass has been stealing from him left and right for decades and has never once given him credit (listen to the opening theme from "Vertigo" or "North By Northwest" if you doubt me) (and those are just for starters) (at least Sondheim owns up to it when he grabs a bit or two from Herrmann) (but I digress).

What's really strange is that Herrmann and Glass are now together - at last? - in "Four American Quartets," a sumptuous serving of Glass, Ralph Evans, George Antheil and, yes, Herrmann, whose concluding 1965 piece, "Echos For String Quartet," is startling, passionate, fearless and unmistakably his own.

And so we come to the end of another post - and the end of someone's life. You see, it's never a good idea to get on the Secret Song's bad side. She just can't help herself. Violent? Perhaps. Fabulous? Of course. But also strange. Why? Because just after she dispatched with that meddlesome something-or-other below, she went home and listened to a new CD by a 16 year-old girl. For reals.

And here's the really-really strange part. She likes it - and so do I. Honestly, who would have thought that an "alterna" CD by a New Zealand girl who counts Jamie Spears as one of her most ardent fans would make for such enjoyable listening. Not me. Is it a one-time fluke? Maybe. But for now, at least, let's hope for the best.

Try to stay positive - like Liza! - but don't get all sticky about it, m'k?  

Share your tempered positivity (and strangeness!) in the comments, if you like.