DownBeat January 1993 [antikvár]

ON THE BEAT DOWN BEAT January 1993 It Had 2BU by John Ephland y romance doesn't need a thing but you." Ah, yes, the sweet bliss of infectious, amorous love. In the pop-music world, everyone seems to be falling in love with standards, again. From soundtracks to hit singles, maybe the current obsession with standards by a new generation of "Beyond" types like Sinead O'Connor, k.d. lang, Rickie Lee Jones, and this month's cover boy, Harry Connick, Jr., reflects that universal hunger to hear those lyrics to Rodgers and Hart's "My Romance." In other words, forget the castle in Spain, you are all I need. Granted, Connick's been at it a wee bit longer than most of the new crop. And the interest by pop musicians in standards goes way back, through the '70s/early '80s odys-seys of Judy Collins, Elvis Costello, and Linda Ronstadt to people like, well, Patti Page, Tony Bennett, and Frank Sinatra. The music and lyrics of Berlin, the Gersh-wins, Ellington and Strayhorn, Porter, et a!., sung and played by everybody and his sister, both young and old, suggests a sincere love for both medium and message. For example, O'Connor, known, in part, for her shaved head and strident politics, sings Rodgers and Hart's "Bewitched, Bothered And Bewil- The new romance set to music: k.d. long dered" on her newest release. Ami Not Your Girl? Her style is intimate, hyper-personal, with a sardonic/ironic edge to it that suggests she loves the material, but on her own terms. The same can be said of lang's take on romantic/melodic construction, and her emphasis on being lyrical, with her new album of original music. Ingenue. A bit more traditional in conception, Connick contributed mightily to the celebrated 1989 movie When Harry Met Sally. The soundtrack is laced with Harry's crooning about romantic love, topped off by a Sinatra classic, "It Had To Be You." In this issue, Connick makes a convincing case for the music's timelessness when addressing the attraction to the Harry soundtrack: "You can't tell a sentimental love story and have loud, hard rock [music] blaring I mean, even cats who play heavy metal are going to tell a girlfriend sooner or later, 'I love you.'" What's going on here? Does this periodic youthful attention genuinely reflect a change in tastes for the standards rep? Has the current pop music scene run out of ideas? Has "America's Songbook" become a cesspool for retros bent on nostalgia? Or are the pop classics the durable stuff of great musicians, regardless of generation? Let's let two very credible chanteuses who've made a living in and around this music briefly state their different cases. First, Rosemary Clooney: "It was bound to happen if they [young performers] progress musically, they get bored with simplistic music. If they want to stimulate their imagination, they've got to come back to the great American songwriters." As for O'Connor, Clooney sees her as "a fascinating interpreter." Abbey Lincoln, in last month's Blindfold Test, sees it quite differently: "I think the problem for the young singers is that they need some new repertoire." Commenting on the Gershwin tune, "They Can't Take That Away From Me," done by Tuck & Patti, Lincoln adds, " this is 1992 and there are other things to sing about." Okay, I'm tired of hearing umpteen versions of the dopey "Our Love Is Here To Stay," or the unhealthy messages of "I'm Nothing Without You." But the standards' penchant for catchy, memorable melodies, coupled with lyrics often sappy but usually tender, sincere, or joyous, can still communicate across generations, from musician to audience. I guess it all depends on the interpreter. As for romance, it never goes out of style. For most, it simply needs a soundtrack. DB DOWPEAT