Fall In Love With Janis, Giggle With Gilda, Sing Properly With Anna, Plus Bond Beats And A Wooded Wigga Secret Song!

I'm getting hints of Kylie Minogue in this ultra-glamorous shot of Janis Paige, a movie, TV and musical theatre star who topped the bills with song, sass and beauty from the 1940s through the 1960s. And get this, as of this writing, she's still high-kicking at age 95.

She's also au courant with the #metoo movement (no, really). In 2017, she reserved "a special place in Hell" for store magnate Alfred Bloomingdale (right next to Harvey Weinstein). For her sake, I hope he's there frying. Unfortunately, Janis only recorded one LP, but it's terrific, and yes, it's a Cheerful Exclusive! for you and yours. You'll thank me for this one, I know it.

Meanwhile, is this a face only a mother can love?

I sometimes get the sads when I watch Saturday Night Live, especially this season, which has proved to be rully-rully boring so far. But I'll let you youngins in on a little secret. Every season of Saturday Night Live has been boring from the beginning of time, with only a handful of memorable sketches each season, no matter the cast. It's why their DVD compilations are the lies that keep on lying, because they carefully cherry-pick all the best bits.

It's also why I love this 1976 compilation CD, a perfect road trip companion with hi-larious routines from Gilda Radner, Lily Tomlin, John Belushi and more. Saturday Night Live was never this good, but for 40 minutes or so, it sure seems like it was.

Breathe deep, Daniel Craig. Only one more Bond to go.

I'm a collector of James Bond soundtracks, especially the ones from the swingin' 60s and the outta-sight 70s. Did you know? During that time, a cottage industry was born: orchestral LPs inspired by the "James Bond Sound," as they called it. Which is just another way to say that they're chock fully of hep-cat orchestral jazz. Kinda funky, kinda square; always appropriate for cocktails and giggles.

Here are two of my favorite, including "The Bedside Bond," which was Penthouse Magazine's attempt to compete with Playboy Magazine's mega-successful jazz LPs, clubs and festivals. It didn't work, but the LP is sure to help you attract a far-out foxy guy.

But wait, I can't let you go yet. Not when there's a certain lady ready to give you a little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down her pants.

I speak of Anna Russell, a giggly comic and singer who made a name for herself by lampooning every song style within reach, including classical music and opera. Naturally, a lot of music critics didn't get the joke; when she famously made mince-meat of famed operas, they thought she was mocking sacred art. In addition to singing and her stand-up, she was also quite an accomplished musician - and a composer and lyricist to boot.

Honestly, I can't think of any comparable multi-hyphenate today and her 1950 LP, "Guide To Concert Audiences," includes delightful comic routines and lots of advice on singing. "Remember," she advises, "the louder it is, the less they'll remember how badly you sang the first part of the song"

I ask you, can a boy-bander really go from a solo electronic-pop career to a country-music career? "Wigga, please," says The Secret Song File, for even she knows that this Ramen noodle-topped pop sensation can't ever leave the pop music realm, no matter how much flannel he wears. Sure, there's some country-ish ballads in his spanking new LP, but kindly put the emphasis on "ish," thankyouverymuch.

Is it any good? Sure it is. It's a perfect to play in the car when you're running around doing errands. It's light, it's breezy. It's pop music, for Christ's sake; it's here, it fits the moment, it's gone. Kinda like pantyhose. I'm going to listen to it till I can't stand it.

Now if only he would apologize to Miss Janet. 

Tell me about your wardrobe malfunctions in the comments, if you like!