As the distressingly knowledgeable 20th century history-savvy gang here inhabits what appears to be a permanent state of worry, tension and fear these days, we note that autumn shall soon end and winter will be upon us soon. The month of September is ending shortly, so today, we pay tribute to "Fall."
We'll start celebrating the season change with a Warner Bros. cartoon, the first but not the last on the topic of gambling; the 1951 Merrie Melodie Early To Bet, directed by Robert McKimson, cleverly and literally visualizes the gambling bug. Don't know if Frank "Tish Tash" Tashlin was into gambling, but we do know that at the very least three of our all-time favorite comedians, Phil Silvers, Ernie Kovacs and Norm MacDonald, were.
NOW THAT SUMMER IS GONE would be a fantastic companion to the Twilight Zone episode THE FEVER featuring the great Everett Sloane as a super-strict and super insufferable Calvinist moralist who goes to Vegas on vacation and gets utterly obsessed with slot machines and casino gambling.
Next, we'll answer the question of how many versions of the minor-key tune Autumn Leaves we can post. We'll start with mighty guitar geniuses Jimmy Bruno and Frank Vignola!
Vocalists want equal time!
As do tenor saxophonists. . . I saw this guy, Johnny Griffin, play a slightly less uptempo version of this song as the opener of his first rip-roaring set at San Francisco's Keystone Korner (750 Vallejo Street) on Thanksgiving night, 1978.
As a scandal involving our idiot Empire State mayor ensues, it's as good an excuse as any to go through a slew of good renditions of the song Autumn In New York, composed by the formidabke Vernon Duke in 1934. The dynamic duo of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong kick off the explorations of Autumn in New York with their customary brilliance.
Bud Powell could play both classical and jazz music with ridiculous technical facility and a haunting soulfulness.
Chet Baker gives us cool school Autumn On New York.
Invariably, tenor saxophonists will have the last word. Looks like John "Blue Train" Coltrane and "Stan The Man" Getz are accompanied by the A-1 rhythm section of Wynton Kelly (piano), Paul Chambers (acoustic bass) and Jimmy Cobb (drums). Everybody sounds great.
For our monthly musical post, the respectful top hat tip goes to Johnny Mercer, singer-songwriter and founder of Capitol Records, born on Savannah, Georgia on November 18, 1909. Here, Johnny and Henry Mancini win the Academy Award for Moon River.
This writer finds the task of paying tribute to Johnny Mercer, founder of the Songwriters Hall Of Fame and celebrated by the Georgia Historical Society, a bit daunting due to the sheer quantity and breadth of material on him.
Classic movie tunes that feature Johnny Mercer lyrics - 19 were nominated for Academy Awards - in addition to "Moon River" (which was first seen in Breakfast At Tiffany's) include "Hooray for Hollywood" sung by Johnny "Scat" Davis and Frances Langford in HOLLYWOOD HOTEL)
And the ditty for which Mercer received a second Oscar, "In The Cool, Cool, Cool Of The Evening (music by Hoagy Carmichael)," sung by Bing and Jane Wyman in Here Comes The Groom. . .
AND "On The Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe" (music by Harry Warren), sung by Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls.
Johnny Mercer was a poetic lyricist on 1500+ songs in which he collaborated with a slew of top composers - the aforementioned Hoagy Carmichael, Harry Warren and Henry Mancini, as well as Richard Whiting, Harold Arlen, Jerome Kern, Jimmy McHugh, and Jimmy Van Heusen - interpreted by dozens of the greatest vocalists and instrumentalists.
Johnny's friend Louis Armstrong introduced his tune Jeepers Creepers in the 1938 Dick Powell musical Going Places. Pops would subsequently hit many Johnny Mercer songs out of the park for the musical grand slam.
The bourbon-soaked lost love lament ONE FOR MY BABY (AND ONE FOR THE ROAD) was introduced by Fred Astaire in The Sky's The Limit (1943), but became (along with Earl Brent & Matt Dennis' Angel Eyes) among the signature tunes for Frank Sinatra.
Yes, crooners dig Johnny Mercer's lyrics the most.
Two Of A Kind, a meeting of the musical minds between Bobby Darin and Johnny Mercer, with arrangements by Billy May, is one of this music aficionado's favorite albums. They are such a terrific team that I am a bit disappointed to have not found TV show appearances featuring the dynamic duo.
Today's cornucopia of clips continues with Johnny Mercer, the rare songwriter who was also an incredible performer.
Pondered posting the outstanding Louis Armstrong, Mel Tormé and Ella Fitzgerald versions of Blues In The Night, but then realized that Johnny's rendition is fantastic.
As is Johnny's vocal on Something's Gotta Give.
Here's Johnny, singin' with Bing on The Kraft Music Hall.
And with Nat King Cole, a master musician who Johnny, as Capitol Records executive, signed as a cornerstone for the label.
Singing with Sinatra on The Chairman Of The Board's radio show in 1947.
Where do we end this tribute to Johnny Mercer? With performances and reflections on the songwriter's legacy by guitarist-vocalist John Pizzarelli, who devoted an album to Johnny Mercer tunes.
In the Rat Pack, which featured three musicians who transitioned successfully into movie acting, the comedian was Dean, no doubt by fueled by a decade of setting Jerry Lewis up, often adroitly, in nightclubs, movies and such classic television shows as The Colgate Comedy Hour.
Lewis, arguably the last of that old school showbiz breed, would note that his partner, suave onstage persona notwithstanding, was a modest individual offstage who had no idea how talented he was.
Martin was an interesting anomaly in show business, perhaps more akin to Bing Crosby than to his colleague and pal Frank Sinatra.
As Bing and Dean made their names as relaxed entertainer/crooners, the concept of either as driven, unrelenting and ambitious - descriptive words that fit Sinatra and Sammy Davis, Jr. like a glove - proved the diametric opposite of their showbiz brand, even though when they first rose to fame, that's exactly who they were.
While Dino did not necessarily want anyone to think he was anything but the devil-may-care swingin' Dino from Dean Martin Live In Las Vegas, The Rat Pack and The Dean Martin Show, he took his movie acting jobs seriously.
In particular, Dean digs into his character roles in two unbeatable classic movies, Some Came Running and Rio Bravo - and darn near steals these movies from some very big stars.
Dean also plays a most unsympathetic scoundrel of a character, the showbiz lout, in Billy Wilder's Kiss Me Stupid and pulls it off. The movie audiences of 1964 no doubt were taken aback by this - and it may not be an accident that this role would soon be followed by a return to Lil' Ol Entertainer Dino.
The larger-than-life Cult Of Personality legend of
Frank Sinatra can overpower and obliterate everything, including his fine work as an actor. That said, one would surmise that The Chairman Of The Board, in one of his reflective times, would insist that transitioning from music to movies was not a transition at all, just part of an organic whole. Frank might mention Mabel Mercer and stress that singing, performed the right way, with proper attention to the lyric, was the purest method acting any artist could do.
Sinatra no doubt was intrigued by dramatic acting, and his performances in From Here To Eternity, which won an Oscar for Best Actor In A Supporting Role and Some Came Running were standouts. Among a fair number of plum character roles in Sinatra's five decades in movies, there's that baaaaaaaad bad guy, an assassin no less, in the 1954 thriller Suddenly.
Perhaps the most provocative, and still timely, of the films The Chairman Of The Board appeared in, was The Manchurian Candidate, directed by the frequently inspired and brilliant John Frankenheimer.
Sammy Davis, Jr. was arguably the last of a breed that also included Bobby Darin and Mel Torme: the entertainment dynamo.
An accomplished and acrobatic dancer with The Will Mastin Trio, Sam was the monster musician of the trio, ridiculously adept on piano, vibes, drums and other instruments. He also had a likability and warmth that was not just in his music or showbiz persona, but part and parcel of who he was as a person.
As part of Sammy's Mr. Entertainment persona, he could segue seamlessly into character acting, much as his contemporary and fellow musician, actor and child entertainer Mel Tormé did.
The first installment of From The Bandstand To Hollywood: Musicians In The Movies noted a little known masterpiece directed by Leo Penn (a.k.a. Sean's father), A Man Called Adam, in which Davis stars as a combative yet talented jazz trumpeter. As expected, Sam puts his heart, soul, intelligence and intensity into the part.
The indie film features an all-star supporting cast that also includes Tormé, Louis Armstrong and Rat Pack mainstay Peter Lawford.
Whenever Sam got the opportunity to act on stage or screen he made the most of it, right up to his last silver screen appearance in Nick Castle's 1989 film Tap.
Mostly, the 1960's did not mean character parts in dramas for Rat Packers not named Sinatra, but did mean a series of goofy comedies and spy film spoofs.
Just a few years after the ring-a-ding-ding Rat Pack movies, that is to be expected.
In closing, one could do a helluva lot worse, pally, than relaxing by listening to some great records by Frank, Sammy and Dino, enjoying their movies and pondering their wide ranging careers in music and on the big screen.
The above sign is a stroke of genius - and brings to this music-obsessed blogger's consciousness versions of the Irving Berlin standard it refers to.
So let's begin today's post with a few renditions of this great song. First up: the "swooner crooners", starting with the ultimate one, Frank Sinatra.
Among the top movie stars of the 1950's was the adept light comedienne, dancer and former big band singer Doris Day. The star of several sprightly Warner Brothers musicals (Calamity Jane) waxed a very nice version of Let's Face The Music & Dance.
For many decades after co-starring with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen in an MGM musical beloved by this blogger, White Christmas, as well as headlining her own TV show, movie actress and vocalist Rosemary Clooney continued performing music and recording. Here she is on her 1984 album, Rosemary Clooney Sings The Music Of Irving Berlin.
The tendency is to associate Shirley Bassey with her bravura performance of the theme song from Goldfinger, but also she recorded standards. On her 1962 Let's Face The Music album, arranger extraordinaire Nelson Riddle was loaned out from Capitol to lend some swingin' Rat Pack magic to the proceedings. Could Dame Shirley Bassey belt 'em out? Yes, definitely.
One vocalist who recorded standards and nailed them every time was Ella Fitzgerald. Her series of songbook albums for Verve still can't be topped.
Although a scant few vocalists, then and now, would even attempt to go toe-to-toe with Ella Fitzgerald in the jazz singing department and especially scat and vocalese, one who could at least give it the old college try was Anita O'Day. Here, Anita swings those standards with virtuoso pianist Oscar Peterson.
Two of the most amazing vocalists are also two of the most mindboggling pianists - Nat King Cole and Diana Krall (who also recorded with the aforementioned Rosemary Clooney).
When thinking of strictly instrumental takes on the standards, look no further than the arranger of many Capitol Records recordings by Frank, Dino, Judy Garland, Keely Smith, Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole and Rosemary Clooney, the incomparable Nelson Riddle.
It comes as no great surprise that a fine instrumental version of Let's Face The Music And Dance can be found on The Nelson Riddle Orchestra's 1966 album of the same name!
Riddle's brassy orchestra frequently slips a double dose of bebop into the pop and brings to mind the post-Charlie Parker jazz virtuosos who explored the harmonically rich compositions of Berlin, Gershwin, Porter and Arlen with a sublime vengeance.
Clifford Brown, Curly Russell, Lou Donaldson and (on right behind drum kit) Art Blakey - Birdland, February 24, 1954
Alto saxophonist Jackie McLean
On the 1959 Swing Swang Swingin' album, just one of a slew of classic recordings Jackie McLean recorded for the Prestige, Blue Note and Steeplechase labels, a program of standards gets supercharged with the driving "hard bop" sound. As usual, Jackie shows a highly original and wonderfully angular approach - and swings like mad.
From modern jazz this itinerary takes a big turn back to where this the Great American Songbook stuff started and tips the top hat to Broadway - not Funky Broadway - with pianist, singer historian, scholar and prolific recording artist Michael Feinstein. And, please, don't monkey with Broadway!
This post would not be complete without a respectful nod to the guy who performed songs on Broadway, in many cases in their very first performances, before standing room only crowds, delivering the goods night after night - yes, under just a little bit of pressure - the one, the only Fred Astaire.
Not surprisingly, practically before the RKO studio cameras stopped rolling, The Vincent Lopez Orchestra recorded 78s of the Cole Porter and Irving Berlin songs from the Fred n' Ginger musicals. Popular dance bands covered hit tunes from Flying Down To Rio, Gay Divorcee, Top Hat, Follow The Fleet, Swing Time, Shall We Dance, etc. And this song was no exception.
Back to the incredible Frederick Austerlitz, the penultimate show-stopping version of Let's Face The Music And Dance, of course, is from Follow The Fleet, directed by Mark Sandrich. There they are, Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers, defining the art of terpischore in the movies and dancing into eternity.
Thanks, you sublime entertainers, for all that love on the silver screen. And big time thanks to Irving Berlin and to each and every one of the musicians involved in this post.
"There may be teardrops to shed
So while there's moonlight and music and love and romance
Let's face the music and dance" Irving Berlin
