Showing posts with label Mad Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mad Men. Show all posts

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Frank Sinatra - New York, New York

MINE

Well, it's Frank.  I mean, what can you say about the man?  He's the guy who does for singing what Fred Astaire does for dancing - makes it look effortless and natural.  Until you try doing it, that is.  Which is why I ended up with a sore throat when I tried to sing along with Strangers In The Night

I bought this CD because I felt the lack of Frank in my collection.  And just because I don't play it that often, doesn't mean I don't love it - mostly.  OK, I'm not partial to the fact that he cuts the reference to cocaine out of I Get A Kick Out Of You.  His version of Yesterday is less than inspiring, and let's just draw a veil over Mrs Robinson, shall we?  But I love, love, love his duet with daughter Nancy in Something Stupid.

I have to share with you my thought process in listening to Summer Wind.  You see, I was on my way home from work to a meal which is cooked for me by YourZ.  My shift ends at 6.30 pm  and with a drive of anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour I'm usually pretty ready for dinner by the time I walk in.  And that night, with Frank in the background, I got to feeling all Mad Men about it.  I felt like calling him up and asking him to mix us a pitcher of martinis, and stopping off for some flowers to  show the little man how much I appreciate him. (YourZ sez: hmmm... careful now.)  Fortunately, I resisted the temptation, because Don Draper I ain't.  Much more Peggy Olson, actually, without the whole getting-pregnant-but-ignoring-it schtick she managed in Season One.

Um, I was writing a review, wasn't I?  Oh well, that's Frank for you. 

VERDICT: TURN IT UP


YOURZ

As Mine says, it's Frank Sinatra.  There are very few artists, either living or dead, who still inspire such passionate outpourings of devotion (Elvis, Miles Davis, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and John Lennon immediately spring to mind).  The sheer length of his career eclipses these, to say nothing for his multi-faceted talents as an singer, producer, actor and businessman.  And just talk to my mother if you want an opinion on his looks.  She will get a faraway look in her eyes and resorts to using words like 'dreamy'.  It is positively scary.

When listening back to this album of standards (and, in a few cases, substandards, as Mine also mentions), I can't help be transported back to a time when I was a pre-teen and my mother, who played piano and organ, would spend hours playing variations of many of these.  My parents were big Mancini fans and while I heard a lot of these tracks many times, none were ever sang as effortlessly as Frank seemed to do.  I doubt very much if there will be a voice like his again. 

The other thing about Frank is he didn't work with crap musicians.  Every note played, even on the dodgy covers, is played with absolute perfection.  A faultless band for a peerless voice.  It doesn't get any better than ol blue eyes himself.

VERDICT: TURN IT UP

For more information: http://www.sinatra.com/

Thursday, January 28, 2010

James Hunter - The Hard Way


MINE

Listening to The Hard Way is a bit like dropping into an episode of Mad Men.  James Hunter effortlessly recreates the feeling of early-60s smooth American white-people's music - although sometimes with a hint of dangerous rock-and-or-roll.  It just makes me want to reach for a pitcher of martinis and light up a Lucky Strike.

Just how good is that show, anyway?  And what is it about American TV in the Noughties that it reinvented itself with these OMG scripts and fuck-off acting?  Right now I'm panting for the DVD of the latest series - too long to wait for it to be screened in the Antipodes.  But I'm also enjoying Dexter, as mentioned in our sidebars, and we just gulped down the entire four series of The Wire available here, plus the sheer excellence of Breaking Bad.... and we're still waiting for more spin-off goodness of Battlestar Galactica after the series ended (sob).

It used to be US television was far inferior to the British product.  But now YourZ and Mine(self) spend time nudging each other over the excellent sets and furnishings in Mad Men (we're both Eames-era junkies) - or gripping our seats in the rollercoaster writing of Breaking Bad - or checking our watches to see if we can squeeze in just one more episode of The Wire before bedtime.

But all this isn't telling you how I feel about this album.  And I'm not as passionate about it as I am about Mad Men.  I guess I don't mind it - but frankly I'd rather listen to some recordings of music from back in the day - like my Stax Collection - rather than new music sounding like it was recorded back in the day.  Oh, but that doesn't include Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, who can play at any party I throw from now till whenever.

VERDICT: TURN IT DOWN


YOURZ

I'm a sucker.  Just ask Mine.  She probably has countless examples of why I am, of this I have no doubt.  But at least I know what I am.  This can go part way to help alleviating losing great amounts of hard earned dollars to snake oil salesmen or con artists trying to sell me national monuments.  But put a pretty girl behind a counter who knows how to use her, erm, charms, and I've already paid for whatever she's trying to sell.

Such was the case when I walked into my local music store and the young, firm beauty behind the counter was sashying around while listening to The Hard Way.  In other circumstances, things might have gotten embarrassingly hard indeed.  Thank goodness for air conditioning and a modicum of self-control, let me tell ya.  The end result was predictable though; I walked out of the store with this CD in my hot and somewhat sweaty palms.

James Hunter is a Englishman who sounds like a lot of the old soul and RnB singers (the first, true and only RnB as far as I'm concerned).  He sounds like a lot of the music my parents loved and listened to when I was growing up, music I find weirdly comforting, given I'm generally a rock pig.  Hunter is talented, unpretentious and in possession of a very fine soul voice.  But what really sets him apart is he not only writes all of his own songs but he plays a mean guitar too.  The authenticity is undeniable and he has garnered fans in people such as Willy Nelson, Chris Isaak and Van Morrison, as well as nominations for a number of the more prestigious music awards.

Personally, I like the ska flavour of Carina, the rockin' Don't Do Me No Favours (the yelps he pulls off in this are pure joy) and the bossanova-flavoured She's Got A Way.  But it's the last track, Strange But True, which comprises only Hunter's vocals and an acoustic guitar that stays with me long after this recording finishes. 

As Mine said, this music would have no problem finding a home in the soundtrack of Mad Men.  Sure, it might have been done before, but James Hunter has a way of making it his own and wow, daddio, what a way it is.

VERDICT: TURN IT UP, shake up a dry martini and shimmy 'till dawn

For more information: http://www.jameshuntermusic.com/