RSSSatchmo's gravelly drawl is as much a signature as his grinand his bell-toned horn. But where casual listeners sometimesmistake his vocals for comic relief, his admirers oftenoverinterpret it as Tin Pan Alley deconstruction. In the welter ofSatchmo reissues, this cheerfully crass entry from the mid-'50s,when his artistic force was supposedly sapped by jazzambassadorship, showcases his pervasive affection for his materialas well as the melodic and rhythmic genius of his interpretations.Of courseRockin' Chair andThat's My Desire arefunny--just likedeath and sex, which he knows damn well they're about. MagnificentfromSt. Louis Blues toMack the Knife, with plentyof trumpet on the side.
Where Armstrong commanded a powerful vocal instrument,Astaire's singing makes clear that the supernal grace of hisdancing took as much intelligence and discretion as strength andagility. Especially by the operettic standards of a time thatadored Nelson Eddy, his high baritone was impossibly slight, andthe signal pleasure of his singing is how many true notes andmeanings he got out of it. The weaker songs here prove that evenBerlin, Gershwin, and Kern wrote filler, but also that Astairecould make a silk topper out of just about anything. The strongersongs establish both composers and singer as vernacular poets ofthe first order.
Fast Cuts: On Cachao'sMaster Sessions Volume I(Crescent Moon/Epic), the seminal, criminally underrecorded bassist, now 76,demonstrates how he brought Cuba's statelydanzón into anAfro-Cuban present that survives to this day.
Playboy, Sept. 1994
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