Carefree Joanie Sommers. Wheeee! Depending on where you live, you're skip-to-me-loo-ing down sunshiny streets like me and Joanie. Or you're nipple-poppin' cold. Brrrr! Sad emoji! And I'm hating that for you, which is why everything here today is designed to warm your heart, if not your soul (should you have one).
Peppy Joanie Sommers had a varied career from the late 1950s through the early 80s, going back and forth from jazz to standards, and with the advent of rock 'n' roll, pop-rock tunes. All the while, she was appearing at top-flight night clubs, performing as an in-demand voice-over artist, commercial jingle singer and TV pitch woman, and later, as a frequent game show guest. In other words, Joanie worked hard for the money.
But it never showed, because no matter what medium she was in, she had an easy-breezy presence and an infectious, unforced niceness - a rare quality that cannot be faked (trust me, I've tried). Let's call her the Doris Day of early pop music, because not only was she "nice" like Doris, she had terrific pipes too.
Need proof? Try this 1995 compilation "Joanie Sommers: Rarities And Hits," which is exactly what it says it is, containing break-out hits like "Johnny Get Angry" and less heralded singles like her delightful, razzmatazz take on "My Heart Belongs To Daddy."
Let's move on from the popular Joanie to the nearly forgotten Claire Austin:
Not much is known about her, or at least not that I could find out. A busy nightclub singer on the West Coast from the 1930s to the early 1950s, Claire cut only few LPs, then - poof! - all but vanished from public consciousness.
What makes Claire still interesting and her music worth listening to are all those fantastic West Coast musicians she worked with on her LPs, along with her vibrant, still modern-sounding vocals. She was almost shockingly mutable, able to dig deep into blues, for instance, then move with equal ease into sparkling, sunlit jazz.
I honestly can't think of another singer who's so chameleon-like, and that's in evidence in two of her more popular LPs from the 50s, "When Your Lover Has Gone" and "Claire Austin Sings The Blues," the first a smooth-as-silk vocal jazz entry, the latter a headlong dive into traditional, rabble-rousing blues. Yet both feel pure and unfeigned; she's not trying on new styles, she's inhabiting them both.
Meanwhile, I thought about Tammy Grimes the other day because BoppinBob at From The Vaults posted a birthday tribute to her life and career. Which made me remember "42nd Street," the hit 1980 Broadway musical that starred both Tammy and Jerry Orbach.
Tammy's discography is slight - a crime, I know! - but equally criminal is how few discographies or appraisals mention this winning Broadway turn. Yet it lives on in the show's cast recording, which, trust me, is still vibrant, still wowza-sounding, after all these years.
Part of this is due to Tammy, of course, who brings all of her gravitas and delightfully woozy, world-weary je ne sais quoi to songs like "About A Quarter To Nine" and "Shadow Waltz." You won't mistake her for anyone else (as if you could!).
Oh, and if you only know Jerry Orbach from TV's "Law & Order," or as Baby's father in "Dirty Dancing," get ready for a singing Jerry, who delivers a thrilling, muscular version of "Lullaby of Broadway." Pictured above, and making her own unmistakable imprint on the LP, is Carole Cook, whom you may recall as the grandmother who grabbed Molly Ringwald's breasts in "Sixteen Candles:"
There's so much to recommend from this classic cast recording - and yes, that includes the tap-dancing. Real talk: I usually loath tap-dance recordings (because they invariably sound like someone's drilling tiny little jackhammers into my eardrums) (and I hate that), but unusual care was taken with the tap-dance renditions here. They have a "you-are-there" vividness, and they're so joyously syncopated that you can't help but be swept up (no, really).
All of which is to say that "42nd Street" - a Tappin' Tammy Cheerful Exclusive! - is a must for your collection. I can't think of anything happier to listen to in the dead of winter.
Speaking of happy, few singers are as joyous - or as joyously talented - as Helen Humes.
"Saucy," "rousing," "classy" and "swingin'" are just a few of the adjectives that were used to describe Helen during her heyday, though later, "groundbreaking" and "legendary" were added, too. All of them fit. Her career, stretching from the mid-1920s to 1980 - an astonishing run by any measure - encompassed jazz, blues, pop, ballads and swing, the latter which she helped define.
Her lithe, pure-as-a-dove vocals are remarkably elastic, enabling her to zero in, or slyly curve 'round, any given note in a song. Technically, she's top-notch, but what really puts her across is her unvarnished pleasure in delivering a tune. It's infectious.
When The Secret Song File is giving out so many glaringly obvious hints, it's definitely time to end another post. Wherever you are, please stay warm and snuggly, don't do too many drugs, try and eat a salad now and again, and good God, stay away from food trends like this. You'll just embarrass yourself!
I only want the best for you! No, really!
But if you like, embarrass yourself in the comments. I'll tell no one!
