Music of The Civil War

Just a cheery little post for your humpday! Enjoy, oh mighty Googlebot. :)

From The Civil War, Episode Four: "Simply Murder," as narrated by historian David McCullough:

Troops sang in camp and on the way to battle. Confederates favored "Dixie" and "The Bonnie Blue Flag." Union soldiers still preferred an old Methodist tune. Mostly they liked sentimental songs - "Just Before the Battle, Mother," "The Vacant Chair," "All Quiet Along the Potomac," and "Home Sweet Home." In many camps, the men were forbidden to play a song called "Weeping, Sad and Lonely," officers considering it destructive of morale. Both sides loved "Lorena."


"Just Before the Battle, Mother"


"The Vacant Chair"


"All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight"


"Home, Sweet Home"


"Weeping, Sad and Lonely" (a.k.a.. "When This Cruel War Is Over")

"Lorena"

During the opening moments of The Civil War, Ken Burns shows this image of the soldier, followed immediately thereafter by the shot of a dead solider, who I assume are one in the same (or perhaps the point is, they could be).

...And then, there is "Ashokan Farewell," the only music used in the series which isn't an authentic, 19th century composition. This one moves me to tears every single, damn time I hear it (like Pavlov's dog):

Multitrackin'

Once upon a time, my sole aspiration and life goal was to be a "rock star." Correction. Once upon a time, my sole aspiration and life goal was to be one of The Beatles. Strangely enough, that didn't work out as planned. But from the time I was around thirteen to about forty-three twenty-five, it's all I thought about doing. The problem was, unlike The Beatles, I didn't have all that much talent or ambition. I think it was all about the screaming girls. Despite this, I loved music, especially recording music. In hindsite, I was probably more of a frustrated producer/engineer wannabe than an actual musician.

Pete Townshend recording at home in 1971
Like two of my biggest musical heroes (other than the Fab Four) as a kid, Pete Townshend and Prince, I liked home recording, trying to play every instrument myself. Of course, Prince would release entire albums where basically he was the only person on them. I thought that was so cool. Using a four-track recorder, not too much unlike the one Bruce Springsteen used to record the classic Nebraska album, I spent much time, imagining I was in my own little Paisley Park, creating, if truth be known, total crap. But I had fun. I recently stumbled across something I recorded way back in the summer of 1987 that didn't make me cringe too badly when I listened to it again. Actually, my first thought was I almost pulled off playing the drums on this one. Here I am doing one of the few Prince songs an unskilled white boy could even come close to pulling off, one of my favorites, "Christopher Tracy's Parade." Forgive me in advance for the pain this may cause, but I just had to unleash it upon an unwitting blogosphere:

"Ten Cents a Dance"

Taxi dancers waiting for a customer; gosh, they look so friendly and welcoming...
I am currently playing through Bioshock 2 and loving it almost as much as the first game. For one thing, the soundtrack is just as great as the original's (the licensed tracks). There is some seriously good (if not old) music on both games, and it usually is used quite effectively to establish (or reinforce) the creepy mood of the game. I would probably have never discovered The Ink Spots or heard Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child" (God bless her soul for it) had it not been for Bioshock. I think my current favorite on the sequel is "Ten Cents a Dance," as popularized by Ruth Etting.

Ruth Etting in her prime
Rising to fame in the twenties and early thirties, Ruth Etting was renowned for her great beauty, her gorgeous voice and her tragic life. She starred on Broadway, made movies in Hollywood, married a mobster, had numerous hit-records, fell in love and was known as America's Sweetheart of Song.
(From her official site, maintained by a granddaughter of one of her cousins.)



Yikes - the blondes must have been overworked or something
More on taxi dancers.

"Hello, Young Lovers"

I find this Frank Sinatra performance of "Hello, Young Lovers" to be very poignant. The date was May 5, 1951, and it was on The Frank Sinatra Show. Sinatra's career was virtually unrecognizable from what it had been at its pinnacle in the mid-40s. At moments throughout this particular episode, Sinatra seemed to be trying way too hard; desperate even - smiling a little bit too easily and often, nervous, stumbling over his words in several places, not to mention the pencil-thin mustache. It's a little unnerving to watch a Sinatra who isn't confident. But I guess that's what happens to a guy when he falls from the very top of the Hollywood food chain, and everyone (but a few) kicks him as he falls.

More about The Frank Sinatra Show from this site:

It was a low point in the singer's career. His record sales declining, dumped by his movie studio, his radio series canceled, and perhaps most frighteningly, sidelined for over a month with a ruptured vocal cord, Frank Sinatra was in the depths of despair. He was dogged by bad press, due to an affair with movie star Ava Gardner while still married to first wife Nancy. It didn't help that his thin skin and ill temper (not to mention an overindulgence in alcohol) sometimes fueled violent confrontations with reporters and photographers he felt had wronged him.

So it was that, in 1950, Sinatra found himself casting about for a vehicle that could help him resuscitate his career. Television was the new thing and had helped a number of has-been entertainers, so why not give it a try?

The show was plagued with problems right off the bat, suffering from disappointing ratings, a high turnover in personnel, and a shortage of sponsor support.

But on this evening, he had his voice. Sinatra sang "When You're Smiling," "If," a duet with June Hutton on "My Romance," and as a lonely figure, wringing his hands while strolling quickly out into the bright spotlight of a darkened stage, "Hello, Young Lovers." Maybe I read too much into these things, but it's as if he's appealing directly to his Bobby Soxer fans, who'd all grown up and lost interest, to like him anew ("Hey! Remember me?"):

The fact this is at the Paramount Theatre, where the whole "Swoonatra" craze began in 1942, just adds an extra layer of Sturm und Drang (or angst).

Better days would come for Francis Albert Sinatra...

"100,000 People"

I just Netflixed the 2003 documentary, The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara. It is an excellent film, which deals with a very heavy topic with grace and style, never once getting overly grim. But the revelation for me was the soundtrack (which does the job of being grim), composed by Philip Glass. Dude! I love the brief, little melodies which pop up. My favorites at this point are:



and "IBM Punch Cards":

"Why Try to Change Me Now"

Sinatra with Ava Gardner in 1952

"Why Try to Change Me Now" was composed by Cy Coleman (the music) and Joseph Allan McCarthy (the words) for Frank Sinatra. Sinatra recorded it on September 17, 1952. It was arranged by Percy Faith. More from Sinatra 101: The 101 Best Recordings and the Stories Behind Them:

Sinatra's last recording for Columbia Records--and appropriate in the context of his life. Gone was the innocent, naive singer of the previous decade. Burned by love, the singer is able to convey the darkness, the sadness, and the cynicism that would characterize much of his work in the years to come. (p. 35)


Sinatra would re-record it while under contract with Capitol Records for the No One Cares album in 1959.

Cy Coleman

Here is Cy Coleman's utterly charming, 1957 performance of "Why Try to Change Me Now," from something called "Art Ford's Greenwich Village Party," which appeared to be somewhat like a precursor to the Playboy After Dark TV program of the late '60s. Coleman, by the way, also wrote "Witchcraft" for Sinatra:

"You're Mine"

"You're Mine" was recorded and released in 1956 by Robert & Johnny, a rare duet blues group of the mid-50s blues explosion. It was used (at 5:00) in the 1985 Scorsese film After Hours.

R.I.P. Richard Gladwell

It saddened me to hear this past Sunday of the recent passing of Richard Gladwell. Gladwell was the host of a program played on NPR stations called With Heart and Voice. With Heart and Voice was "a weekly program of choral and organ music." I say "was," because I assume the show will be no more. I was encouraged required forced to go to Sunday school and attend church services until I graduated from high school. Consequently, I haven't been a regular church goer ever since. The closest I've come to being one again has been listening to With Heart and Voice every Sunday on my NPR station during my long, morning run (which I do, ironically, religiously). It has always reminded me of the great old Hook & Hastings pipe organ echoing throughout the church of my youth. Adieu, Richard Gladwell.

"Trumpet Tune in D," by David Johnson (the theme to With Heart and Voice):

"We'll Meet Again"

In honor of 92-year-old Dame Vera Lynn getting back to the top of the British charts, I repost the follwing. According to the linked article in the previous sentence, she has even beaten out Britain's own Beatles for the top spot. Coincidentally, "We'll Meet Again" is used very effectively and poignantly near the beginning of episode one of The Beatles Anthology (04:04).

Wikipedia entry:

"We'll Meet Again" is a 1939 song made famous by British singer Vera Lynn with music written by Ross Parker and words by Hughie Charles.

The song is one of the most famous songs of the Second World War era, and resonated with soldiers going off to fight and their families and sweethearts. The assertion that "we'll meet again" is optimistic, as many soldiers did not survive to see their loved ones again. Indeed, the meeting place at some unspecified time in the future would have been seen by many who lost loved ones to be heaven.


Vera Lynn performance from 1942
The song gave its name to the 1943 musical film We'll Meet Again in which Vera Lynn played the lead role. Lynn's recording is featured in Stanley Kubrick's 1964 movie Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.



Pink Floyd makes reference to this song and the performer in "Vera," a song from the Pink Floyd album The Wall: "Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn?/Remember how she said that we would meet again some sunny day?". A short clip of "We'll Meet Again" can be heard at the beginning of the first track on the Pink Floyd album Is There Anybody Out There? The Wall Live 1980-81.

"The Best Things in Life Are Free"

ca. 1939
The Ink Spots

"Summer Wind"

Frank and Ava Gardner in 1951
"Summer Wind" was written in 1965 by Henry Mayer and Johnny Mercer. The version Frank Sinatra recorded was a stand out track on the album that found the aging crooner returning to the top (#1) of the pop charts, Strangers in the Night (1966). An electric organ figures prominently in the overall mix, the instrument's inclusion (along with electric bass guitar) being one of the concessions Sinatra made in order to be more relevant and contemporary. Described as having a "majestic sadness," it's one of those songs that seems to be biographical when done by Sinatra:

Moon songs

I couldn't choose just one moon song for this special anniversary, so here's a whole bunch. No good version of "Under the Cherry Moon" or "Moondance" were to be found, and it's still too soon (in proximity to the release of the movie) to listen to R.E.M.'s "Man on the Moon." I don't like The Stones' "Moonlight Mile" or The Doors' "Moonlight Drive." Never have. I felt "Claire de Lune" and "Moonlight Sonata" were waaay too slow. Besides, this isn't meant to be a complete list.

"Moon Love"


"Blue Moon of Kentucky"


"Moonlight Becomes You"


"Old Devil Moon"


"Moonlight Serenade"


"It's Only a Paper Moon"


"How High the Moon"


"Moon River"


"The Moon Was Yellow (And the Night Was Young)"


"Walking on the Moon"


"Moonlight in Vermont"


pic source
"Blue Moon"

Hilarious

"Bike Ride to the Moon"


"Moonlight on the Ganges"


"Mr. Moonlight"


"Polka Dots and Moonbeams"


"Bad Moon Rising"


"Fly Me to the Moon (In Other Words)"


And last, but not least,
"Bark at the Moon"

"Unstoppable"

Santigold - "Unstoppable"
Sasquatch Music Festival attendees sure liked it, anyway:

"Three O'Clock in the Morning"

The Great Gatsby original cover art by Francis Cugat
“Good night, Nick,” said Daisy.

Her glance left me and sought the lighted top of the steps where "Three O'Clock in the Morning," a neat, sad little waltz of the year, was drifting out of the open door. After all, in the very casualness of Gatsby’s party there were romantic possibilities totally absent from her world. What was it up there in the song that seemed to be calling her back inside? What would happen now in the dim incalculable hours? Perhaps some unbelievable guest would arrive, a person infinitely rare and to be marveled at, some authentically radiant young girl who with one fresh glance at Gatsby, one moment of magical encounter, would blot out those five years of devotion. (p. 115)


F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Stranger on the Shore"

I blogged about this a couple of years ago, but as I was on my run tonight (four miles), my iPod shuffled to the mp3 I made from my scratchy vinyl copy of the Flamingo Kid soundtrack, and I knew what my latest post should be. Most of my music-related posts are born in just this way. "Stranger on the Shore" is a song worthy of being featured here at my little endeavor again. And I'll probably get just as much of a response as I did last time -- NONE! Ha, ha! Has there ever been a recording so haunting, beautiful and achingly sad?? I don't think so. And being a Frank Sinatra nut, brother/sister, I've listened to a lot of haunting, beautiful and achingly sad stuff....

This is the best version I could find of the original 1962 recording by Mr. Acker Bilk:


Mr. Acker Bilk
From the Wikipedia entry:

"Stranger on the Shore" is a piece for clarinet written by Acker Bilk for his young daughter and originally named "Jenny" after her. It was subsequently used as the theme tune of a BBC TV drama serial for young people entitled "Stranger on the Shore."
The track, performed by Bilk (as "Mr. Acker Bilk") with backing by the Leon Young String Chorale, was released as a single on Columbia Records in October 1961, with the label of the single openly proclaiming "Theme from the BBC TV Series." The B-side was "Take My Lips". The single became a phenomenal success, topping the NME singles chart and spending nearly a year on the Record Retailer Top 50. It is the UK's biggest-selling instrumental single of all time, and appears fifty-eighth in the official UK list of best-selling singles issued in 2002.

On May 26, 1962, "Stranger on the Shore" became the first British recording to reach number one on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100, but it was quickly followed, on December 22, by The Tornados' "Telstar", another instrumental. After "Telstar", the first British performers topping the U.S. charts were The Beatles, with their first Capitol Records single "I Want to Hold Your Hand". "Stranger on the Shore" was Billboard's Number one single of 1962.

I guess that means Acker, sorry, Mr. Acker Bilk kicked off the British Invasion of the 1960s!

I wasn't aware there were lyrics, but I've always felt there just had to be. Sho' 'nuff, there are. By Robert Mellin:

Here I stand, watching the tide go out
So all alone and blue
Just dreaming dreams of you

I watched your ship as it sailed out to sea
Taking all my dreams
And taking all of me

The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"

Why, oh, why must I go on like this?
Shall I just be a lonely stranger on the shore?

The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"

Why, oh, why must I go on like this?
Shall I just be a lonely stranger on the shore?
Andy Williams recorded a version with the lyrics, which was released two months after Bilk's. Here is a version Patti Page did, which for some reason someone has dubbed in this scene from Das Boot:

"Royal Blue"

Say what you will about the Russians, they appreciate and recognize good music when they hear it. Back in January, the Grand Flute Ensemble performed "The Pink Panther Suite," with the third part featuring one of my favorite tunes from the The Pink Panther (1963) soundtrack, "Royal Blue."


While their version is true to the original melody, albeit slower, I sure miss the barroom piano and muted trumpet of the original, Mancini version.

"Subdivisions"

I seem to remember Rush's 1982 album, Signals having a few negative reviews, people perhaps being let down after the excellence of the previous year's Moving Pictures. I was into reading Creem (among other things) at that time, and there were disgruntled fans, irritated by Rush's heightened use of synthesizers (of course on their 1984 album, Grace Under Pressure, even Neal Peart would be playing electronic drums). I thought it was really cool, and still do. Here's a quote from the Wikipedia entry:

Signals was the follow-up to the successful Moving Pictures. Stylistically, the album was a continuation of Rush's foray into the technology-oriented 1980s through increased use of electronic instrumentation such as keyboards, sequencers, and electric violin. Other noticeable changes were decreased average song length and lyrical compression. The album reached #10 on the Billboard album charts and was certified Platinum (1,000,000 copies sold).

Primed for jazz (one more time)

I just knew I'd forgotten to include some things (music) in my previous post that, as I put it, "primed" me (and perhaps other Gen-x'ers) to become jazz music fans later in life. Jazz was so prevalent in the television to which we were exposed, one could almost conclude there was a concerted effort to create a whole new audience for the genre.

First, while technically used in the movie first, there was the Saturday morning cartoon, The Pink Panther Show, which premiered in 1969. Henry Mancini's swingin' theme:


The theme song to Mannix, by Lalo Schifrin is another tune I should have included. When I was around 8 or 9 years old (possibly younger), I was "playing Mannix" in my neighborhood, armed with a cap gun, while loudly humming the theme song to myself. An older boy from across the street overheard me doing so, and he teased me incessantly about it. I remember this like it was yesterday.


And just one more, a show I watched in rerun form every day for a while during the early '70s, The Odd Couple, had a really cool, and yes, jazzy, theme song. And what do you know? It was composed by Neil Hefti, the arranger of one my favorite Sinatra albums, Sinatra and Swingin' Brass.


Well there you have it, my case for how m-m-m-my g-g-generation and I were pre-programmed to quite possibly enjoy jazz music when we became old and gray. I guess it could have been worse - "they" could have done a Manchurian candidate kind of thing to us.....Now I must play solitaire.

Primed for Jazz (part one)

Primed for jazz

If you are like I am (born in the mid to late '60s, raised on '70s TV), you were primed to be a fan of jazz. Did it work on you? Probably not, but "they" sure tried. It worked on me. Gen X-ers would become as familiar with the sound of brushes softly brush-a brush brushing (that's what you call alliteration) on a snare drum and the tinkling ivories of a well-played jazz piano as they would the sound of their mother's voice. Witness a few of the jazz-inflected contributors to our generational zeitgeist. Maybe you didn't realize the conspiracy as it unfolded:

First, one of the nicest and most genuine men to have ever walked the face of this imperfect planet, Fred Rogers (I cried like a baby the day he died, as did you). Fred Rogers was of course an accomplished pianist and composer. It seems like he was always taking his viewers on a trip to Negri's Music Shop. Thank you for that, Mr. Rogers!


That theme sure is jazzy!


At about 3:50, and things get really jazzy at around a minute from that.




"The Music of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood"


Vince Guaraldi and Trio did the music for many of Charles Schulz's "Peanuts" cartoons, with the most obvious perhaps being the wonderful music for A Charlie Brown Christmas (damn I love "Skating"! I could listen to that all year long):



"Mah-Na Mah-Na," originally from Sesame Street(?) and later The Muppet Show:



HONORABLE MENTIONS
I would have caught these in rerun form some years after their introduction.
The first season theme music to I Dream of Jeannie was an instrumental jazz waltz written by Richard Wess. From the second season on, however, it was replaced by a new theme entitled "Jeannie," composed by Hugo Montenegro.



And of course that leads to:


The Bewitched theme by Warren Barker
Peggy Lee did a great version of this tune, complete with the lyrics:

Primed for Jazz (One More Time)

A candy-colored clown they call the sandman

One of the more bizarre scenes from a very bizarre film:

A bit from the Wikipedia entry:

Perhaps the most famous use of "In Dreams" in media was prominently in David Lynch's landmark cult thriller Blue Velvet (1986). The sadistic villain of the film, Frank Booth (played by Dennis Hopper), seems to be obsessed with the tune (along with the Bobby Vinton song "Blue Velvet").