Features:
Description:
Carmen McRae
Billie Holiday was more dramatic, Sarah Vaughan had more chops, and Ella Fitzgerald could swing harder. But while she might not always be mentioned in the same breath as those jazz vocal legends, Carmen McRae, who died in 1994, had her own distinctive attributes: tougher than Billie, hipper than Sarah, gutsier than Ella. Those qualities are all on display in this Jazz Casual program, which originally aired in 1962. The circumstances couldn't have been the most comfortable for the singer and her trio. They were performing on an empty soundstage with only host Ralph J. Gleason and his production crew as an audience. It shows, too. The voluble McRae banters nervously between songs with pianist Norman Simmons and doesn't even seem to know what number comes next. (She also notes that a couple of the tunes, "Trouble Is a Man" and "If You Never Fall in Love with Me," were particularly relevant for her at that particular moment, although no additional details are provided.) But no matter. Alternating between standards ("'Round Midnight" and a Latin-tinged "Love for Sale") and less familiar fare (the thoroughly swinging opener "I'm Gonna Lock My Heart"), she's still in fine form, using the melodies as mere reference points before transforming each tune into something uniquely her own. Carmen McRae is something of an acquired taste--her style is somewhat mannered, and her sound isn't the warmest--but for the very definition of a jazz singer, one need look no further. In short, another Jazz Casual winner. --Sam Graham Mel Tormé
They called him "the Velvet Fog," a moniker he never much liked, so here's another name for Mel Tormé: musician nonpareil. It was as vocalist, of course, that the multitalented Tormé really shone, and this 1964 Jazz Casual performance features all of his trademarks: the flawless intonation, the superb scatting, the relentless swing. Accompanied here by a trio featuring pianist Gary Lang, he offers a dazzling, six-song set, including numbers both familiar ("Comin' Home Baby," "Route 66") and rare (the haunting "Sidney's Soliloquy"). Those familiar with the Bobby Timmons tune "Dat Dere," popularized in its instrumental form by Art Blakey, will delight in Tormé's vocal version. Perhaps only Mel could sing a line like "Daddy, can I have that big elephant over there" and get away with it. That's the thing about Mel Tormé: his glib showmanship and Vegas proclivities made him almost a lounge singer caricature, but his technique and sheer musicality put him on another level entirely. --Sam Graham Jimmy Rushing
Jimmy Rushing (often called "Mr. Five by Five," a reference to his rather rotund dimensions) was a Kansas City blues shouter best known for his 15-year stint with Count Basie's big band. Thus his solo appearance on Ralph J. Gleason's Jazz Casual TV program is a genuine rarity. And the accent is certainly on the "casual." Rushing is obviously delighted to be here; an affable, garrulous raconteur, he so enjoys reminiscing about his childhood in Oklahoma City, his days in Kansas City, and with Basie, and so on, that were it not for some gentle, respectful prodding by Gleason, he might not actually do much singing at all. As it is, he relaxes his way through a half-dozen blues numbers, accompanied by his own stride- and boogie-flavored piano. Rushing saves the best for last, talking his way through the prostitute's lament "Trix Ain't Walkin' No More" and finishing up with the hoary "How Long Blues." And then there are his parting words: "The blues will never die." Amen, brother. --Sam Graham
|
