It’s been too long around here since we’ve heard and seen Peggy Lee. Here she is with her husband Dave Barbour and his quartet in a 1950 Soundie. Soundies used to run on machines called Panorams, coin-operated juke boxes in bars, restaurants, factory break rooms, even some corner service stations. They played short films. In went your quarter and out came Count Basie, Claude Thornhill, The Sons of the Pioneers, maybe the Hoosier Hot Shots or, if you were lucky, Peggy Lee.
By the time that was made, Panorams had largely disappeared from taverns and nightclubs. For a few years in the ‘50s and early ‘60s, the more sophisticated Scopitone succeeded them. For a Scopitone memory including a brief history, a demonstration with two of its big stars and the story of Dangerous Desmond’s investment scheme, see this Rifftides archive post.
The nonagenarian pianist presented de Barros with every biographer’s hope, unrestricted access to his subject’s personal papers and nearly unrestricted access to her private thoughts. He made the most of it, turning exhaustive research and hundreds of hours of interviews into a true story with the sweep of a novel. From the early discovery of McPartland’s musical gift through her wartime service, her ecstatic and stormy marriage to Jimmy McPartland, her growth as a pianist, her deep affair with Joe Morello, and the radio show that made her a national figure, she has had a fascinating life. It makes a splendid read.
Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band had three fewer musicians than most big jazz outfits. Its size permitted precision, flexibility and subtlety, yet the band had the power of sprung steel. In this concert from a half century ago, the CJB is as fresh as yesterday. Arrangements by Mulligan, Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn and Johnny Mandel set standards to which big band writers still aspire. Bassist Buddy Clark and drummer Mel Lewis inspired Mulligan, Brookmeyer, Conte Candoli, Gene Quill and Zoot Sims to some of the best soloing of their careers. This beautifully produced issue of the complete concert is a basic repertoire item.
I can hear quite a bit of Lady Day in Peggy’s voice & phrasing, although she sounds so much more innocent and happier. Her lightness, her stunning beauty, her easy swing — You will have to look very hard to find those credentials in today’s pop music.
Take any of Peggy Lee’s, Doris Day’s, Lucy Ann Polk’s, June Christy’s, Julie London’s, or Jeri Southern’s recordings: It’s about music in the first place; and when it was also about selling, the quality of the material was the main reason for a hit, not the marketing.
At least “I Hear Music” in the first place, when those gals swing a number:
P.S. — While we were talking about Alec Wilder, here’s Peggy with one of her finest ballads: