There is only one Charo. Singer, actress, guitar-playing phenom. And a delightful
Instagram presence, too. Because if you're going to shake what you've got, you must do it
Charo's way.
Sure, many regard her as kitsch, and rest assured, she'll happily deliver in this regard, most memorably on her various "
Carol Burnett Show" appearances in the 1970s. And it doesn't get more blissfully kitsch than her 1981 LP, "Bailando Con Charo," a
Chica Charo Cheerful Exclusive!, which has her mixing Latin beats with disco, baby, disco. In other words, I can't get enough of it.
But for reals, Charo is also a serious flamenco guitarist, having begun her studies at age 9 under the tutelage of virtuoso Spanish guitar player, Andres Segovia Torres, 1st Marquis of Salobrena, thankyouverymuch. And as much as I adore Charo's kitsch, I cherish more her entrancing guitar performances in her 1994 LP, "Guitar Passion, Caliente." My favorite track is "La Segadora Y El Carretero," but really, they're all superb. Charo isn't heralded enough for her guitar playing, and, sure, that's partly her fault, but she ought to be.
Have you ever heard of The Royce Sisters? Yeah, me neither. As best as I can determine, they were a hit on the Vaudeville circuit - "Real neat and pretty!" as one reviewer crowed - and toured with jazz bands in the 1920s and early 30s. Don't they look kicky?
You can hear them perform "Sweetie Pie" in "Ted Louis and His Band," a swingin' jam session with Ted and the Sisters and a host of others, like Bennie Goodman and Mugsy Spanier, the famed jazz coronet player. Ted's too-cool, hep-to-the-rhythm patter-speak, which I suppose we would now call rap, only adds to the fun, and the band is tighter-than-tight.
But what really makes this CD stand out is the jaw-dropping sound quality. If you've ever listened casually to 1920s and 30s era jazz records and been irritated by the faded, scritchy-scratchy sound, then you're in for a treat, because this almost seems like it could have been recorded today. Maybe for the first time, you'll get a sense of how "outrageous" this music was, or how jazz, the rock 'n' roll of its time, first scandalized a nation when it went mainstream. Just give a listen to a track like "Earthquake." Only bad boys and naughty girls got down to this.
Oh, look, it's our old friend Sylvia Syms with her gal-pal Mary Martin, who looks like she's about to take a big chomp out of Sylvia's head. Look out Sylvia! Mary-gurl lookin' hongry!
Someday I hope more people will appreciate Sylvia Syms. In the 1950s and 60s, her butter-smooth crooning made supper club audiences swoon. And her ability to "communicate the truths of life with brutal realism," as a The New York Times cabaret reviewer once noted, comes through today more than ever, maybe because so many modern vocalists over-sing - as if to prove they have the pipes - which means that any personal emotional commitment to the lyric is wiped away.
That's not the case with Sylvia. Her deceptively low-key style sneaks up on you - and before you know it, you're cradled in her arms, experiencing joy, sorrow, and everything else she wants you to feel. In her 1956 LP, "Sylvia Syms Sings" (which has been gorgeously restored), she's at the peak of her powers. Just as fine is the new "Golden Selection" compilation, a nice introduction to a performer who famously dropped dead on stage at the conclusion of her 1992 performance at the Algonquin Room. Because that's how she rolled.
Meanwhile, when I think of teenagers, I immediately think of Maurice Chevalier.
"Scooby-wha?" you say. That was my reaction when I came upon this sublimely ridiculous 1962 LP, "Maurice Chevalier and Haley Mills Take You To Teen Street," in which Maurice and Haley sing about double dating, being a "good girl," teenage weddings and other urgent issues. Yes, it's as ridick as it sounds. You so want it. But I ask you, what should we call this? Is it camp? A joyous atrocity? Just what we need in These Difficult Times™? Why not all three? Wheeeee!
Also included are The Sylte Sisters, a girl group who came and went in a blip; forgotten teeny singer Billy Storm, and - wait for it - a brief appearance by Annette Funicello. In other words, Uncle Walt just grabbed whoever he had on the lot that day - at the time, Maurice and Haley were shooting "
In Search Of Castaways" - and said, "Let's do a teen album!" Because, again, when you think of teens, you definitely want this
town creeper to be included!
The Secret Song Film is worried about the upcoming US Presidential election, which promises to be a shitstorm Dumpster fire of stolen votes, an imperiled Supreme Court and other such nonsense 'n' horror. She wants escape, but not with pablum. She wants a little grit. And what better place to find it than with this legendary country diva who's been there and back.
Even better, she's singing live in this spanking new CD. How old is she? Who cares, she still sounds fantastic. And yes, you'll be bringing her flowers - *cough*hint*obvi* - 'cause you still love her like you used to (down to your last li'l teardrop, I swear).
Don't be anxious about the election...just freak out like I am!
Talk about hanging chads in the comments, if you like!
