I always have music on in the background when I’m writing. When I’m writing about Detroit, I listen to music from Detroit and Detroit Music is more than just Motown. Here’s a Detroit Jukebox for your listening pleasure:
As always, CRANK IT UP!!!
I always have music on in the background when I’m writing. When I’m writing about Detroit, I listen to music from Detroit and Detroit Music is more than just Motown. Here’s a Detroit Jukebox for your listening pleasure:
As always, CRANK IT UP!!!
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An example of a “coal porter,” a man who delivers the coal. © 2012 Friedrich Seidenstücker, from the MoMa collection Another example of a coal porter is a rail car for coal. |
Louis Armstrong and my fellow Canadian Oscar Peterson will be demonstrating a whole different sly word play with “Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall In Love),” which, in 1928, was considered quite risqué for its time. Armstrong sings more different verses than anyone else in this almost 9 minute version and every one of them is clever as all hell.
One of my favourite Cole Porter tunes has to be “You’re The Top” also from the Broadway show “Anything Goes.” It’s filled with clever wordplay, funny pop cultural references which would have, in its time, been known by everyone in the audience, and a wonderful sentiment all wrapped up in that wonderful sense of cadence that the words have on their own. This time Cole Porter has agreed to sing his own song for us and he’s asked us all to sing along:
At words poetic, I’m so pathetic
That I always have found it best,
Instead of getting ’em off my chest,
To let ’em rest unexpressed,
I hate parading my serenading
As I’ll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it’ll tell you
How great you are.
You’re the top!
You’re the Coliseum.
You’re the top!
You’re the Louver Museum.
You’re a melody from a symphony by Strauss
You’re a Bendel bonnet,
A Shakespeare’s sonnet,
You’re Mickey Mouse.
You’re the Nile,
You’re the Tower of Pisa,
You’re the smile on the Mona Lisa
I’m a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
But if, baby, I’m the bottom you’re the top!
Your words poetic are not pathetic.
On the other hand, babe, you shine,
And I can feel after every line
A thrill divine
Down my spine.
Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
Might think that your song is bad,
But I got a notion
I’ll second the motion
And this is what I’m going to add;
You’re the top!
You’re Mahatma Gandhi.
You’re the top!
You’re Napoleon Brandy.
You’re the purple light
Of a summer night in Spain,
You’re the National Gallery
You’re Garbo’s salary,
You’re cellophane.
You’re sublime,
You’re turkey dinner,
You’re the time,
You’re the top!
You’re an arrow collar
You’re the top!
You’re a Coolidge dollar,
You’re the nimble tread
Of the feet of Fred Astaire,
You’re an O’Neill drama,
You’re Whistler’s mama!
You’re camembert.
You’re a rose,
You’re Inferno’s Dante,
You’re the nose
On the great Durante.
I’m just in a way,
As the French would say, “de trop”.
But if, baby, I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!
You’re the top!
You’re a dance in Bali.
You’re the top!
You’re a hot tamale.
You’re an angel, you,
Simply too, too, too diveen,
You’re a Boticcelli,
You’re Keats,
You’re Shelly!
You’re Ovaltine!
You’re a boom,
You’re the dam at Boulder,
You’re the moon,
Over Mae West’s shoulder,
I’m the nominee of the G.O.P.
Or GOP!
But if, baby, I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!
You’re the top!
You’re a Waldorf salad.
You’re the top!
You’re a Berlin ballad.
You’re the boats that glide
On the sleepy Zuider Zee,
You’re an old Dutch master,
You’re Lady Astor,
You’re broccoli!
You’re romance,
You’re the steppes of Russia,
You’re the pants, on a Roxy usher,
I’m a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a flop,
But if, baby, I’m the bottom,
You’re the top!
That’s poetry. And it’s such a clever use of the English language. They don’t make songwriters like that anymore.
Here are some more classic interpretations of Cole Porter songs. I’ve also included a few instrumentals, one parody, a few unearthed gems sung by Cole himself (who wasn’t much of a singer), and two totally different versions and arrangements by Julie London, so you can also hear what a terrific tunesmith he was. Cole Porter is The Tops!
“Thursday (Here’s Why I Did Not Go To Work Today)” has always been one of my favourite Harry Nilsson tunes. It comes from Sandman, a latter day effort. Harry’s voice had never been the same after the John Lennon produced Pussycats during Lennon’s “Lost Weekend.” This was no fault of Lennon’s. Nilsson had hurt his vocal cords and rather than tell Lennon he continued afraid to delay working with his hero. It only made it worse. While he never had that angelic voice again, he still wrote some lovely songs and this is one of them.It’s also a song on which his raspy voice gave the song the exact right amount of pathos. What do you think?
I’ve always especially loved the lyrics nearest the end. They’ve always had a Cole Porter feel to them for me, and that’s one of the highest forms of praise there is.
Monday is a blues day
That goes for Tuesday
Wednesday’s just the middle of the week, yeah mm
Friday is just another payday
The weekend’s just another heyday
But Thursday’s surreptitiously uniqueThat’s why I didn’t go to work today
Thursday’s got its own peculiar way
Of saying “hey”
Sometimes Thursday makes you want to run awayThursday’s such a crazy, lazy day
Thursday’s such a crazy, lazy day
Thanks, Harry, for giving me a musical excuse to toss Thursday aside from time to time. However, today my clients were forced to cancel so I have the day off anyway.
So, while I have your attention: Here’s another wonderful Harry Nilsson performance, 100% live, from a BBC broadcast on which he did his entire “A Little Touch of Schmilsson In The Night” LP live. It’s sublime. And please note: Harry Nilsson was covering the American songbook long before Rod Stewart, Willie Nelson, or even Linda Ronstadt.
If you liked that, you will love parts two, three, four and five, which are all on the YouTubery.
You’re welcome.