The beauty of Vocalese is not that it is based upon a song. The beauty is that it is based upon the interpretation of a song. So in essence, the vocalist is capturing the mood of the improvisation. He/She is putting lyrics to a moment of spontaneous creativity.
Take the song “I’m in the Mood for Love” written by Jimmy McHugh with lyrics by Dorothy Fields. The song was published in 1935 and introduced by Frances Langford in the film “Every Night at Eight”. The way the song is heard in the film is the way it was initially intended to be heard, both melodically and lyrically.
Fourteen years later, jazz saxophonist James Moody takes McHugh’s melody and does what a great jazz musician is supposed to do. He applies his own interpretation to the song and in one fell swoop, completely reinvents the tune while unknowingly influencing a slew of future jazz giants. Moody’s interpretation of “I’m in the Mood for Love” maintains the basic premise of the original melody, but, while remaining within the structure of the tune, Moody is able to melodically trace his own path and showcase the song in a way that had never been heard before.
Three years after the recording of Moody’s version of McHugh’s song, lyricist Eddie Jefferson wrote his own lyrics to the tune. Only Jefferson did not write lyrics based on McHugh’s original melody. Instead, Jefferson’s lyrics were based on Moody’s improvisation of the song. The song became a hit when a singer named King Pleasure recorded it in 1954. It was then that it became known as “Moody’s Mood For Love.”
This is not to suggest that Vocalese did not exist before Jefferson wrote lyrics to Moody’s improvisation. But it appears that its biggest impact occurred with the introduction of King Pleasure’s recording of the tune.
I have a soft spot in my heart for King Pleasure. I spent the better part of my freshman year in college going to sleep with my Walkman on, playing the Pleasure album “The Source” over and over again until morning. To me, the man was a genius. It takes a lot of skill to take, not the original melody, but the improvisation of a song and put meaningful lyrics to it.
Listen to Frances Langford’s version, then check out Moody’s improvisation and Pleasure’s song based on Moody’s tune. I have also added “Come on Home” by Horace Silver. Check out what the incredible group, Lambert, Hendricks & Ross does with Silver’s tune. Like Jefferson and Pleasure, LHR were absolute masters of Vocalese.
Frances Langford - I’m in the Mood for Love
I’m in the Mood for Love - James Moody and the Swedish All-Stars
Just finished viewing the documentary ‘Tis Autumn: The Search For Jackie Paris. I couldn’t help but to wonder how many other great jazz vocalists there are in the grainy past who fell into relative obscurity. I guarantee you, there are basements all over this world that secretly hold worn and dented cardboard boxes filled with dusty 45s that are nothing less than aural gold. Yet, with the passage of time and the never ending introduction of new talent and changing tastes, these hidden gems could remain forever undiscovered. How do we find them? I can only hope that like some ancient Egyptian artifact, someone will dig them out one day.
Jackie Paris deserved the fame he so craved. His voice is inimitable and immediately recognizable. But fortune and fame eluded him. It has eluded many.
Trust me, there were other Sinatras out there. There were other Nat Coles and Tony Bennetts. Why God seems to allow the light to shine on some and not on others is well beyond my comprehension. That is something I’ll never understand. It seems unfair to me. But to me, life is not about fairness. It’s about a whole lotta luck with a dollop of determination.
If you dig jazz, jazz vocals and jazz history, rent this film. It won’t change your life, but it will cause you to wonder. And if nothing else, you will hear one of the greatest versions of Skylark ever put on wax.
During my freshman year in college, my girlfriend at the time gave me a three disc box set called Giants in Jazz. I remember the day she gave it to me. I remember it for many reasons. It was at that moment that I knew she really loved me. People gave me jazz related stuff all the time, but it wasn’t specific to me, you know? It was just jazz. The gift was appreciated but I could always tell that they saw familiar names on the back of the cd and decided to purchase it based on what they thought I may like. But Amy, my girlfriend, she listened to me. She knew I loved Charlie Parker. She knew I loved Dinah Washington and Dave Brubeck and John Coltrane. She knew this and went out and purchased with her hard-earned, part-time-job-while-in-college money this cd set complete with all of my beloved musicians. It meant so much to me at the time, and still does.
Another reason why I remember that day is because when I played the cd, it was the first time I ever heard Louis Armstrong’s version of Stardust. Now, just so you understand, Stardust is my absolute favorite when it comes to standards. Hoagy Carmichael was an f’ing genius musically. Think about it — Georgia on My Mind, Lazy River, The Nearness of You, Skylark….where would jazz be, where would MUSIC be without Hoagy Carmichael. Truly, he was a heavyweight. And Stardust, oh what a heavenly tune. And for such music to be paired with the absolutely most endearing and beautiful lyrics written by Mitchell Parish — Parish’s lyrics paired with Carmichael’s music is like a rainy Sunday afternoon with nowhere to go and the love of your life by your side. Perfect.
Now, you throw Louis Armstrong into the mix with his own, purely individualistic contribution, and you find yourself blithely waltzing through a musical utopia. Hearing that song at the ripe age of eighteen was one of the most enlightening moments of my life and not only caused me to lust for more of Louis Armstrong’s music, but it made me respect Mr. Armstrong as a trumpet/cornet player. Until then, all I really knew was What a Wonderful World and Hello Dolly. I knew Louis the showman. After hearing Stardust, I was instantly confronted with Louis the father. I realized that the singer, as great as he was, was only half of what made the man a legend. That golden sound that came forth from his horn knocked me on my ass completely, and to this day, I haven’t been able to stand back up again.
A few years after hearing Armstrong’s version of Stardust, I became a Woody Allen fiend. I saw “Annie Hall” when I was about 19 or 20 and discovered a soul mate of sorts. He was a man who wrote the way I wished I could write and said what I wished I had the moxie and intelligence to say. I gobbled up every movie he had made at the time. One of those films was Stardust Memories, one of my favorites. There’s a scene in that movie that Allen frames with Armstrong’s version of Stardust. I love that scene. If you’ve ever had a perfect moment, and especially a perfect moment with someone you love, you would dig this scene. When everything comes together and you are able to cement the memory of the beauty of it all with a great tune, well, there is no room for improvement. And years later, whenever you hear that song again, you will be instantly transported back to that moment. Because of that song, you are able to embrace that memory forever.
Now, whenever I hear Louis sing that song or see that scene from Woody, I feel an instant surge of gratitude. I feel thankful for that memory of my girlfriend handing me the discs that would change my life more profoundly than the two of us would ever know. I feel thankful for geniuses like Hoagy Carmichael, Mitchell Parish, Louis Armstrong and Woody Allen. And I am thankful for the fact that this stardust memory will, til the end of my days, haunt my reverie.
To be collapsed by a song - ain’t it grand?
I just happened to be lounging around this afternoon, reading and listening to the station when I heard a Charles Brown song play followed by an early Ray Charles tune. One has to wonder how Ray Charles’ music career would have developed without the early and obvious influences of Nat King Cole and Charles Brown. I say it over and over again — there is no family tree more resplendent and vast than that of the family of jazz. And what fruit it bore — soul, rock ‘n roll, rhythm and blues.
Come to think of it, where would I be without all this great music? Squaresville.
Ray Charles - You’ll Never Miss The Water
looking for a good way to kill some time, spend a couple of hours at the Rock n’ Soul Museum. At ten bucks for one adult ticket, it’s a steal. Rich with history and music, I went from having a tepid curiosity upon entering the building, to setting foot back onto the city street feeling a great amount of respect for the museum as well as the town to which it was dedicated. Days later and I’m still floored by the thought of how many great artists and songs came out of the city of Memphis.
I also walked away with a new tune for the station. Evening Melancholy is dedicated mostly to classic jazz ballads, but I’d be a fool not to add Three O’Clock Blues by B.B. King. To me, it is the very definition of Evening Melancholy.