#0007: Frank Sinatra - Songs For Swinging Lovers (1956) [****]

This is more like it, Frank.  Buble and Bennett have sung pretty much all of the songs on this classic.  It's the sort of broad, rich, big band extravagance you associate with Old Blue Eyes.  Gone now the insipid mewling of Wee Small Hours as we are treated to some of the best Rat Pack fare in history.

Notably present is Making Whoopee, of which Ray Charles's version is still my personal favourite.  I Get A Kick Out Of You and Old Devil Moon are inaugurated into the Sinatra arsenal, both of which receive excellent treatment on Jamie Cullum's Twentysomething album.

What I particularly loved about this is the appearance of a song I have never gone looking for but which I have loved for many years.  How About You is a song favoured by Robin Williams's character in the Terry Gilliam film The Fisher King. The film is funny, touching and as you might expect from Gilliam, completely bizarre.  Williams is superb, as are Jeff Bridges, Amanda Plummer and the resplendent Mercedes Reuhl, who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance.

I have digressed into a bit of a film review there.  Maybe I'll get that book too.

This album finishes with How About You, which made me smile and if you've seen the Fisher King, you'll understand why.

#0006: Duke Ellington - At Newport (1956) [***]

Jazz is like the Rubik Cube.  Not everybody can do it.  And that applies to listening as well as playing.  In my own limited experience as a jazz student and listener, I've found that the majority of it annoys me. But those areas of jazz that I do like I tend to be very passionate about.

I had never listened to Duke Ellington until I heard this and I was very pleasantly surprised although it does take some perseverance.  Take The A Train is opened by one of the most hideous piano solos I've ever heard but once the horns kick in, it's great.  There are a number of tracks you would do well to skip the first one to two minutes to get to the good stuff.  I could not allow myself that luxury if I'm gonna do this properly so...you're welcome.

#0005: Fats Domino - This Is Fats Domino (1957) [**]

I don't have a lot to say about this offering from the man most famous for his version of Blueberry Hill, which isn't included here.  It's functional upbeat music. It's not unpleasant to listen to but it's fairly bland.  It feels to me like this sort of music was churned out with as little thought in its day as, say Stock, Aitken and Waterman churned out their own assembly line pop 30 years later.

A bouncy version of As Time Goes By is a notable moment that would perhaps have been better as the theme tune to Judi Dench and Geoffrey Palmer's sitcom but I've no doubt Ingrid Bergman would turn in her grave.

#0004: Louis Prima - The Wildest! (1956) [****]

Y'see this goes back to what I was saying about that Sinatra album.  You can play it slow without killing it.

One of the best things about this glorious, old school jump jive record is that it features a tune called Night Train.  I have known this track for years and never known its title.  In Back To The Future during the Enchantment Under The Sea dance, it is Night Train that the band are playing.  They do it a bit quicker than Louis Prima on this collection (released what might well be a year to the day after the BTTF's key date, November 12th 1955) so it took me a while to place it.

Just A Gigolo opens the album and I'm sure I've heard this used on an advert for some men's hygiene product or other.  The fun and high jinks tone set by this tune is maintained throughout and for those who don't really like jazz, this is accessible enough for you to cut your teeth on.

#0003: Louvin Brothers - Tragic Songs Of Life (1956) []

They're not joking.  These are indeed tragic songs.  It's not very long but it feels as long as the Appalachian mountains of which the sound is so reminiscent.  The two guys are clean cut, suit wearing types and don't fit with the aural picture of banjo-toting, genetic cut-n-shuts so I'm not really justified in calling it hillbilly tripe.  But that's what it sounds like to me.  Harsh harmonies sung through the nose over treble-heavy mandolins.  Repeat ad nauseam for 35 minutes when presumably they went home to fuck their sisters.

No stars.  I accept it kinda defeats the 5-star reviewing paradigm to have zero stars but I do think it's appropriate when something is so completely devoid of merit.

#0002: Elvis Presley (1956) [***]

I am not and never have been a big fan of Elvis.  I have always felt he was over rated by quite some considerable margin.  That said, I think this his eponymous first album is thoroughly deserving of its place in the book.  I can imagine the impact such a collection would have had in those days and so its social significance alone qualifies it to be included.

The album is full of twists and turns, changes of pace and style that kept me interested for the duration in spite of my aversion to his voice.  Blue Suede Shoes is an explosive opener and is followed by a slow song and the pattern continues but each time the gear shifts from high to low and vice versa something else changes too.  Call it colour, call it texture or whatever you like.  I was left with a feeling of having been taken somewhere and entertained rather than jolted from one key, one rhythm to another.

Three stars.  Mainly because giving four at this early stage might create problems later on when the Beatles show up.

#0001: Frank Sinatra - In The Wee Small Hours (1955) [**]

...and I don't think I'll ever forget having listened to this one.  It is an arduous listen.  Drawling strings and painfully laborious vocals slowly torture each of the songs in turn in one continuous magma flow of melancholy.  It's not just that the album lacks variety.  Tender ballads, mournful laments and angst ridden dirges can all be wonderful listening experiences but don't let them drag.

Truly brilliant songs like What Is This Thing Called Love and Mood Indigo are butchered right in front of your ears.  Although the introductions and some of the incidental work is quite nice, it is Sinatra's balefully dull phrasing that puts the kibosh on any hope I had of enjoying them.

Two stars.  One for the notable orchestral moments and the other out of respect for the dead: i.e. those less fortunate than myself for whom the listening experience proved fatal.

Foreword

How many people have bought or been bought this book and actually read it all?  My instinct when I first picked it up was to see if my favourite albums had been selected.  I did this to validate my musical taste and/or establish what level of credibility I would assign this compilation.  Then it occurred to me that I should listen to these albums.  You know.  Before I die.

At least when people start talking about their favourite stuff and it's something I haven't heard of, I'll know it's more down to the extremes of musical proclivities than it is about my level of ignorance.

The reason I'm blogging about it is I thought some people might find it entertaining.  Others might be grateful they don't have to do the work themselves.  But if nothing else, it means I can come back to my thoughts on these albums at some point in the future when I inevitably forget that I ever listened to...