Contemplating Peggy Lee

Watching a clip of Peggy Lee singing "Is that all there is?", which I've always loved since I was a kid and learned it from my Mom's Songs of the Sixties Billboard collection. I loved the refrain, but did not hear it sung by anyone for many many years after learning the chorus as a kid. Very Kurt Weill-ish, as she says in a clip from the documentary. Maybe it's that weird quality that attracted me. But I just liked the refrain. It just struck me. The lyrics andmusic together, which is unusual, since I long ago learned that it was always the tune I remembered, not the words. But these words, the refrain, was different. I guess it seems sort of morbid, but at the same time always had a strangely optimistic quality. Sort of live what you've got. Enjoy it. "Break out the booze, and have a ball." Seemed about right as a teenager. Still does. Great torch song. Gotta get a copy for the ipod.

Then there's the Karen Carpenter song: "On Top of the World", that, while I like, I cannot dissociate from my grade school experience of it. It was the song that a group of the "cool kids" performed with a little dance at one of those school talent things that always seemed to crop up. This was the moment, as much as I did, in fact, enjoy the performance and the song, when I knew for certain that I was not ever going to be cool or popular. These kids all had a "look," you know? Hair perfectly cut, straight, long and shiny (even the boys--1973), straight white teeth, nice clothes, upper middle class ("had things"), sort of what I consider to be an "All American/Californian" look, which included at least one Chinese-American kid. Not unusual . You know. The popular ones. It all seemed so..."together." Definitely "other," from my ten-year-old view. Just can't remove that image from the song.

I find that often, as most probably do, with songs from different periods. But for me, since I never paid much attention to that period's music until it was pretty much over, which is when I started paying attention. As that music was becoming "classic" rock and then even the new "oldies" (versus the 50's, which were always the oldies, when I was a kid), that was when I realized, that despite ignoring it, I had absorbed it anyway, the tune parts at least. While my classmates were declaring their favorite bands (Boston, Kansas, CCR, Lynyrd Skynyrd, etc), my little brain was compiling it all for my later use and amazement. "Hey, I know this." But not really. I had just heard it all so much in the background that I could hum it all, but had no idea what they were singing about. Words, schmords! Sort of a party trick. Except that everyone expected you to already know it, of course. Duuuh! But no, I was the kid who put down "Boston Pops and Arthur Fiedler" for favorite band. That's all I could think of. I guess I could have said "The Inkspots" and really sealed my fate. I'd done that already by bringing in an Inkspots album of my father's, which I really liked. You know, another of those embarass-yourself-at-school moments. I remember my teacher pulling me aside to the snickers and glassy-eyed stares of my classmates and softly telling me that she liked it too. I don't remember feeling unhappy or disappointed, just confused. Why didn't they see how cool those vocal harmonies were?? Later, The Nylons would revive the style, which I also thought was great.

Like anyone cares. But, when you're a kid, you do, even if you're running against the tide and revel in a certain brand of geekiness that was definitely before it's time as far as broader coolness goes. That sort of cool would not find its time until high school and beyond. And computers. I don't mean punch card either. It's not meant to be "oh, poor thing" at all. I remember quite vividly how superior I felt my musical tastes were. And broad-ranging. I mean, there was the clearly superior Vivaldi and Mozart (a couple years of violin will do that), but also the Inkspots, some fifties stuff (which was considered cool), folk songs that you learned in music class (which I always loved) to say nothing of the ongoing folk revival and all the stuff you could hear/see on public tv, Pete Seeger, et al, and even some Opera. Clearly superior. 70's rock by itself just can't do it all by itself. Can't imagine. Still. Fill in the blank for whatever popular music available. How could you ever really pick things to take onto a desert island that would last. You'd get stuck with your Pink Floyd--sorry that one just free associated out--and your Mozart, your Trance, your Irish traditional, your CCR and your BB King, when suddenly, you say, "Dangit! I shoulda brought some bagpipe music!" And then you'd throw yourself to the sharks, sadly humming "The Battle of Waterloo" (a great tune) or something. Well I would.

Except I couldn't throw myself to the sharks. Too limbicly disturbing. Hm. Those nightmare scenarios are always more psychologically fraught anyway. Cautionary tale: always bring ALL of your music with you on your ipod. You never know. Desert island and no pipes. you know. Think about it. Or don't...just break out the booze and have...a ball...if that's all...there is.

Yep. Gotta have that one.

First Bite

This is the first entry of my blog. Very boring, but entertaining at the self-absorbed, minute level. Two brain cells worth.