THE DECCA PERIOD: SONGS FROM PETE KELLY'S BLUES (CONTINUED) 5. Sing a Rainbow In the movie Pete Kelly's Blues, Peggy's character has a nervous breakdown and regresses into childhood. The erstwhile speakeasy singer wounds up in an asylum for the mentally ill. In that forbidding and remote place, we overhear the former moll doll singing "Sing a Rainbow" to the rag doll she is holding -- the latter being a manifestation of her own self. Enhanced by the poignantly interpreted "Sing a Rainbow," this heartbreaking scene was obviously the Peggy Lee scene that stayed with moviegoers the most, and the film segment that most directly led to her nomination for an Oscar. Given the scene for which the number was intended, it is only natural that "Sing a Rainbow" was devised as a children's song. Much of its poignancy comes precisely from its childish simplicity. I was a bit saddened by the dismissal of this key song in a few other posts. As songwriter Arthur Hamilton has shared with Peggy's biographers, the song had personal meaning for both the singer and songwriter, due to the way in which it was conceived. Here is the story. Peggy had left for Las Vegas to fulfill a nightclub engagement there, while Arthur remained in the Hollywood area. He was wracking his brain trying to come up with a fresh "good luck" phrase to send to her on a Western Union telegram. His brain remained intact but he nearly electrocuted his naked flesh as he finally had an eureka moment in the shower. That's where he came up with the perfect phrase: sing a rainbow. Off the telegram went. And back came Peggy's response, on the phone (paraphrased): "so, who is writing the song?" When a puzzled Arthur asked which song she meant, Peggy said, "the song from the telegram." According to biographer Peter Richmond, Arthur replied, "you can take the title and work on it, if you want," to which Peggy in turn retorted, "no, no, it's your title, and it's your song." Well, you can figure out the rest. Jack Webb had asked Arthur to write a song for Peggy to sing -- a song to showcase the mental collapse of her character. In trying to fulfill that purpose, Arthur must have quickly realized the potential behind the phrase from the telegram. Another biographer adds that Jack Webb was thrilled upon hearing the song, and that, upon playing it for Peggy, she cried. Obviously, she found a lot of personal meaning in the song and the movie scene for which it was written. The lyrics are so effective in their simplicity that, over the years, many listeners have assumed that this is an old, old children's song, rather than something written around 1954, to be sung on a Prohibition era, gangster movie. The song has reached multinational status, having been sometimes used in schools from all over the world to teach young children the English language and/or the colors of, um, the rainbow. As heard on the original Decca LP, the number has a gorgeous instrumental introduction: Peggy clearly continued to love "Sing a Rainbow" over the decades, because she re-recorded it for one of her later Capitol albums, with a different arrangement, and in an upbeat mood: Peggy Lee _ Sing A Rainbow ». She also included it among the numbers that she sang for her concert audiences in the United Kingdom, where the song apparently gained traction. Over there, Cilla Black recorded it, and ditto for the duo of David and Marianne Dalmour. Cilla even named an album of hers after the song: Sing A Rainbow - Cilla Black ». But the cover versions were not restricted to the UK: in the US, the Dells scored a top 25 hit when they paired "Sing a Rainbow," as a medley, with "Love Is Blue": I Can Sing a Rainbow.wmv ».
When it comes to artists with long music careers, it can be interesting to hear how they re-interpreted the same songs over the years. From the 1950s to the 1990s, Peggy did sing again at least five of the songs which she had recorded with Benny Goodman in the early 1940s: "Where or When," "Why Don't You Do Right," "I Got It Bad," "My Old Flame" (more on that one in the future), and the number that is motivating me to write this post. A YouTuber has just re-posted Peggy's 1960s re-interpretation of "How Long Has This Been Going On?" Mind you, the sound quality is not optimal, though it's till okay. (When heard in good sound, this is quite an arresting vocal.) If curious and planning to listen to this performance, don't postpone it. Unfortunately, the YouTube poster who uploaded it has made what amount to -- in this particular case -- a serious mistake: identifying the TV show from which the performance comes. It won't be long before he is ordered to take down this clip, and all others from the same show. Of course, if any of you guys gets around to listening, feel free to report if you liked it, or any other reactions to it!
That is just a mind blowing performance, you can see in her eyes and facial expressions that she's absolutely living that song as she sings it. I think credit should be given to the camera man or director for the way this was filmed and the close-ups, Peggy looks and sounds fabulous.
THE DECCA PERIOD: DREAM STREET Original Versions of the Album The LP Dream Street was released by Decca in mid-January of 1957. It was the last Peggy Lee album to be issued while she was still under contract with the label. Dream Street did not come in any other configuration at the time, but the LP appears to have been reissued by Decca at some point in the 1960s. (See cover below, featuring a Decca logo. Also below: the publicity shot on which the illustrator of Dream Street partially based his cover artwork.) Album's Background The songs on Dream Street were recorded over two sessions, the first of them on Tuesday, June 5 and the second on Thursday June 7, 1956. During an interview published as part of a 1957 Down Beat article, Peggy Lee made the following comment about the numbers: "I picked tunes I had really wanted to do for a long time. Different things like Too Late Now and So Blue. After all, you can’t play ‘Lover’ any faster. And I felt a need in myself to do material that would be different for me." (The comment about "Lover" is made laughingly, and thus tongue in cheek.) The implication seems to be that this album was largely her own concept: she picked numbers that she had been longing to record for quite a while, and approached them in a mood or manner that suited her own mind and soul. Dream Street was clearly intended as a concept album. Such an intention is most evident on the repetition of a musical motif on ten of the album's twelve numbers. The motif is taken from the titular song, "Dream Street," which is a composition by the celebrated Academy Award winner Victor Young (Around the World in Eighty Days, For Whom the Bell Tolls, Gulliver's Travels, Love Letters, etc.) During these Decca years, composer Victory Young and lyricist Peggy Lee actually worked quite a few times; their best known writings are the ballads "Where Can I Go Without You?" and "Johnny Guitar." (There are other collaborations of note. At her request, he had once conducted the 97-piece Los Angeles Philarmonic Orchestra during a Hollywood Bowl performance in which she recited a mood poem that they had co-written, "New York City Ghost.") Since Young died toward the end of 1956, and since this album was issued at the outset of 1957, Dream Street can also be thought of as a homage to Victor Young. Key Songs Because this album comes off as a unified whole, I do not feel that any track absolutely deserves to be highlighted over all others. Let's post the full program: 1. "Street of Dreams" (Sam M. Lewis, Victor Young) 2. "What's New?" (Johnny Burke, Bob Haggart) 3. "You're Blasé" (Ord Hamilton, Bruce Sievier) 4. "It's All Right with Me" (Cole Porter) 5. "My Old Flame" (Sam Coslow, Arthur Johnston) 6. "Dancing on the Ceiling" (Lorenz Hart, Richard Rodgers) 7. "It Never Entered My Mind" (Hart, Rodgers) 8. "Too Late Now" (Burton Lane, Alan Jay Lerner) 9. "I've Grown Accustomed to His Face" (Lerner, Frederick Loewe) 10. "Something I Dreamed Last Night" (Sammy Fain, Herb Magidson, Jack Yellen) 11. "Last Night When We Were Young" (Harold Arlen, Yip Harburg) 12. "So Blue" (Lew Brown, Buddy DeSylva, Ray Henderson) Now, if, despite what was said above, we still had to single out a track, the obvious choice would be the opener, for the conceptual reasons already stated above. For historical reasons, I would highlight "My Old Flame' as well: it happens to be a number that Peggy Lee recorded while for Columbia while she was with Benny Goodman, then on this album, for Decca, and later on for Capitol. So, Lee's several incarnations of "My Old Flame" allow us to hear how differently she approached the same number at three different labels, on three different decades, and during three different period of her career. To be continued
I wish Decca expanded Intimate Style into a full 12" album, although some of its tracks do appear on later compilation albums in the years after Peggy returned to Capitol. Does the limited edition Japanese CD contain only the original eight, or does it include bonus tracks? "Baubles, Bangles and Beads" is lovely, but I agree that Peggy's later TV performance is superior to the recording. Why didn't she re-cut it for Capitol with that new arrangement? "Apples, Peaches and Cherries" certainly polarizes people. I agree with the OP that it is charming. I find Peggy's reaction to the chorus throwing in all sorts of items near the song's end to be quite humorous. I enjoy the arrangement and the composition has a catchy melody. I really enjoy the songs with prominent piano arrangements in the low register - "Forgive Me" and "That's Him Over There". It gives a classy and tender sound. "Forgive Me" is one of the tunes I would've added to an expanded version of this album, since its arrangement compliments "That's Him Over There". I enjoy the waltz time of "The Tavern" and it's a misty-eyed, wonderful performance by Peggy. The violas add weight and sentiment to an already tender arrangement. Lovely counterpoint in the strings on this number. What's that being plucked during the instrumental break? Is it a harp, a guitar, or a piano?
Some great information here. Ironic to consider that everybody's favourite jazz singer's highest-charting album of all time only included three of her performances. Shocked to learn that it charted higher than Ella Sings The Cole Porter Songbook, but surely the latter has sold better overall. I'm jumping the gun, sure, but now I'm curious - what was Peggy's highest charting album?
I'll admit that I avoid listening to "Sing A Rainbow" because it is so simple and effective, and I find it too moving to keep myself steady. Peggy's performance is haunting, heartbreaking and the arrangement is creepy. Perhaps those who haven't seen the film aren't able to properly understand and therefore appreciate this number. Peggy's performance as Rose is captivating and she deserved that Oscar. Consider the line "sing along with me..." might well feature the lowest note Peggy ever sang on record.
"He Needs Me/Sugar" and other vocals from the film soundtrack - I suppose these are the oldest Peggy Lee recordings that exist in a stereo mix? The soundtrack quality is stunning...it makes apparent the different nuances heard from recordings on film versus tape. Quite remarkable. I didn't realize that "He Needs Me" was written for the film (or if I had, I'd forgotten). I first became acquainted with this number through Nina Simone, since it's included on her first album for Bethlehem (recorded three years later) and I had a copy of Simone's album before I did Pete Kelly's Blues.
Yeah, a 12" version would have gone a long way to make that album better known ... In general, 10" LPs did not survive the test of time; I mean, one has to dig hard to uncover information about them or, sometimes, to even find out that they ever existed. Just the original eight. The more one checks into Peggy's TV and concert work, the more one discovers cases such as this one: performances that make you wonder why didn't she go into the studio and "wax" that one? I mean, I've seen similar comments made about her take on "Alfie," her version of "Put the Blame on Mame," a more obscure number called "Shakepeare Lied,"around a clown character, and the list goes on. None of them on record. I suppose that she had plenty to choose from, and tended to look forward to moving on to new material ... Contrary to many other singers who were prone to rest on their laurels, each year her nightclub act featured a fair share of new songs amidst the numbers that were "current-album cuts" and the obligatory old-time hits that concertgoers demanded to hear again. After listening to Peggy's version, the singer-guitarist Sacha Distel recorded a version in French that became a hit over the pond. But perhaps the oddest detail about that song is that its writer is the same man who gave us "Strange Fruit" (the Billie Holiday classic) ... Talk about two very opposite sides of a coin! Yes. Both were instead featured in the Decca LP Lover, which gathers together Peggy's sides with conductor-arranger Gordon Jenkins. Wonderfully stated. I'll leave to others to determine what the instrument is, since I do not have a fresh or clear recollection of that break. "The Tavern" is one of those evocative gems that has remained in obscurity, and which wows many folks upon first listening. It makes you want to go out and have an affair (EVEN if you are not married, engaged, or tied to anybody)!
Although I do not have any music training at all (aside from one basic course about music history that I was once required to take and, alas, did not appreciate at the time), I do sense that her lower register was very impressive during this period of her career. Some examples that come to mind are from her versions of "Autumn in Rome" and, I think, "You're my Thrill." A number or two from the Man I Love album, too. Good point about how the number is best appreciated when you've seen the film, and when you thus know the song's context or background. You are also providing me with a perfect opportunity to fix a problem: in the post you quoted, the link to Peggy's later version of "Sing a Rainbow" is not working. It should work this time around ...
"Apples, Peaches and Cherries" and "Strange Fruit" - Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde wrote these titles on the advice of their nutritionist? Very odd to have these songs penned by the same composer. Indeed, it's nice to have all of Jenkins' arrangements in one place, but the song selections are not cohesive on that LP. Peggy is awfully persuasive when heard on a memorable performance.
Agree that the Porter songbook must have cumulatively sold far better. As far as charts go, one of Ella's biographers stated that it peaked at #15. He also claimed that it was the 11th best-selling album of that year, but did not give specific sources that could help corroborate such claims. (Be that as it may, the album is widely known to have sold very well ever since the time of its original release.) Billboard's Top 200 album charts only list one of Ella's songbooks, the Gershwin one on Verve. It peaked at #111. However, that list might have not been started until the 1960s. Albums such as the 1956-57 Porter songbook should thus be found on an earlier incarnation of Billboard's Top 200 -- an incarnation whose full data is harder to locate. I should add that we are talking about Billboard's main album chart. If we were to look into the magazine's small, more informal and specialized jazz album chart, most of Ella's songbooks would probably be found within the top 10 throughout the late 1950s. (On the other hand, it's also worth noting that, at certain points in time, the magazine's smaller charts relied on votes cast by disc jockeys in the field, rather than on tabulated airplay or sold units. So, one would have to look into how the late 1950s charts were being tabulated, too.) Hush. I'm indeed saving such a factoid for a time in the future when we will have our rendezvous with the mystery album. And some great questions there; thanks! Your use of the adjective "creepy" reminds me of another number from the Pete Kelly's Blues album: the partially upbeat "Didn't He Ramble," about a man who keeps on rambling "until the butchers cut him down." Sounds creepy if you don't realize that the word "rambling" is probably being used as a synonym of "playing" or "riffing." The "he" in question is most likely a musician who has passed away. When I first heard the song, I thought that it was about a hog being taken to the slaughterhouse!! ... Don't ask me how I made sense of the notion of a rambling pig. (Oh, Didn't He Squeal. Poor Babe.) In the Pete Kelly's Blues film, "Didn't He Ramble" is heard midway through the beautifully shot opening sequence, which shows a procession at a New Orleans funeral. Check the excerpt on the second clip below. (Historically, the practice of playing this number at jazz funerals in New Orleans was apparently commonplace. Listen to the last clip below.) Pete Kelly´s Blues 1955 - Teddy Buckner + Matty Matlock + Peggy Lee + spiritual choir (excerpt) » Didn't He Ramble »
THE DECCA PERIOD: DREAM STREET (CONTINUED) Other Album Versions Shown right above are the British and Australian covers of the album, on Brunswick and Festival Records. Within my previous post about Dream Street, you could also see the front covers of two abbreviated editions of the album, both on Decca/MCA imprints. One of these two editions is called So Blue (Vocalion Records) and the other is simply named Peggy Lee (Coral Records). Instead of all twelve tracks, the Vocalion edition has ten, the Coral edition nine. Or, to be more accurate, those abbreviated editions contain nine and eight Dream Street tracks, respectively, plus one additional track that was not part of Dream Street. The latter is a Neapolitan-flavored tune called "The Night Holds No Fear (For the Lover)": Moving on to other album versions and other countries ... Japan has released Peggy's Decca albums over and over, on both LP and CD. Uncharacteristically, the two earliest Japanese CD editions of Dream Street include bonus tracks. See, for instance, the back cover of the Warner Pioneer CD edition, released in 1989: Also on CD, the following Spain-released twofer is a more recent disc which, despite being Public Domain, can be recommended. One of its advantages is the incorporation of all the songs that were recorded at the album dates, including those which were left out from the twofered albums. In the case of Dream Street, the only excluded song from the album sessions was "I Still Get a Thrill (Thinking of You)." Critical Assessments The three comments above, taken from this forum's Peggy Lee at Decca Records (1952-1957) » thread, cover most of the fundamental bases pretty well; there's not much to add to them. (Visit that thread for further comments about Dream Street, especially on pages 1, 5, and 6. For an in-depth, leisure exploration of the album's contents, I would also recommend this oral review from Stardust Melody, a YouTube channel: Stardust Melody // E56 // Peggy Lee » .) It gladdens me to see that so many of us, me included, are big fans of this album ... Let's play "the good, the bad, and the ugly." The good was covered above; the (slightly, not really) bad will be found in the next paragraph, which will be followed by the (very) ugly. A rather ungainly (though overall positive) reaction to the album was offered by Billboard, at the time of its original release: "Intended as a sequel to a previous Peggy Lee package, Black Coffee, this is a selection of songs which fall into the category of 'material' or show tunes. Miss Lee's performances are quite subtle; some have a cool jazz feeling. All of them are sophisticated ... None of them are earthy blues, at which Miss Lee excels, but the concept of the album doesn't call for it. A package for those who appreciate a 'quality' album." Like any other album, this one has its detractors as well, but such listeners seem to belong to a very tiny minority. Out there on the net, you can find a somewhat myopic review written by an otherwise blogger who finds nearly nothing to like in the entire LP. Posted in January of 2016, the reviewer's primary reason for disliking Dream Street is, of all things, the circumstance that it reminds her of another album she hates, Frank Sinatra's In the Wee Small Hours! She feels that Peggy is being forced to fall into Frank's mold. Hmm. So, that was the bad, above. But we cannot end on such a sour note. Let's add a fourth dimension to the equation at play: the great. When it comes to this album, it's great to count with the noteworthy opinion of Stella Castellucci, who played harp on the sessions. Here's what she has said: "I have two favorites by Peg. The first is Dream Street. This was a night session, as she preferred to record her albums. My favorites from this album are: It Never Entered my Mind, Last Night When We Were Young, Too Late Now, You're Blasé, What's New and Street of Dreams. These are all ballads but there's also some great jazz on there ... Dream Street was made with just her jazz group ... Those musicians were all wonderful. They were as lovely to me as everyone in her earlier groups were." If it is good for Stella Castellucci, it's more than good enough for me! ... Up next: Sea Shells
The quality of that twofer is among the best I've ever seen and heard in the public domain. And I absolutely adore the cover photo with Pete Candoli. I see Jack Costanzo's bongos placed behind them. Stella has excellent taste. My favourite selections include "It Never Entered My Mind", "You're Blasé" and "What's New". Especially enjoy how Peggy plays with the melody line during her phrasing on "You're Blasé". If I were Milt Gabler, though, I would've selected "Bouquet of Blues" as the perfect final track for this album, instead of the swinging "So Blue" (also great, but a little too upbeat and not meditative enough for the dream-like qualities of the album's concept):
And in return, "So Blue" would be a more suitable flip side for the "Bouquet of Blues" single, with the plaintive "Let Me Go, Lover" at its front.
Indeed; my first introduction to "Black Coffee" was Sarah Vaughan's recording. I've also got Bobby Darin's version in my library, although I prefer Peggy's of the three. As for "When The World Was Young", a small possibility exists that Johnny Mercer wrote the English lyrics for Margaret Whiting and perhaps Capitol turned it down.
THE DECCA PERIOD: SEA SHELLS Original Album Versions & Release Details The album Sea Shells was recorded in 1955 but left unreleased until 1958. Most of its masters had been taped on February 7, 1955; the remainder had been waxed on March 31 of the same year. Responsibility for the delay can be partially ascribed to Peggy Lee herself. At the sessions, Lee had loved all the resulting performances so much that she had enthusiastically hoped to record yet more. Hence, back in April of 1955 or thereabouts, Lee told Decca that the album was not finished yet. As time went by, and as other projects took immediate precedence for both the singer and the label, Sea Shells fell by the wayside. Lee simply did not get around to recording more songs for it, while Decca might have been only to happy to keep on postponing the release of what was a decidedly non-commercial, esoteric piece. Then came Lee's departure from the label, in early 1957. As she was leaving, Decca took the opportunity to release an album that she had recorded more recently, Dream Street. By the end of 1956, Lee was just about done at Decca, but Decca would by no means be done with Lee for years to come. The label kept on releasing a new album of hers on an annual basis, until the decade was over. There was a good rationale for placing more Lee product in the market. At the rival label, she was proving to be a viable album artist: the two LPs that she had recorded for Capitol in 1957 had both made the top 20 of Billboard's album chart, and had been well received from a critical standpoint. This pattern of album success would continue in 1958, with one notable addition: on that year, she would become a hot Capitol singles artist, too. On the May 19, 1958 issue of Billboard, readers were alerted to the existence of a brand new Lee album on Decca, which the Billboard reviewer characterized as "a quality set of recordings." On that exact same date, Peggy Lee was at the Capitol Tower, recording a number that would burn up the charts over subsequent months. Hence, in the music world of Peggy Lee, the summer of 1958 turned out to be a cool & hot one. While Capitol became the carrier of a contagious rash of summer "Fever," Decca nursed Lee's scorched listeners with her soothing Sea Shells. To my knowledge, the only configuration on which Sea Shells was originally released in the United States was twelve-inch vinyl. Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, the album came out not only on LP (second image above) but also on EP -- two of them, shown below. Genesis of the Album To understand how Sea Shells came into being, we should first take a look at the life that Peggy Lee was leading during the first half of the 1950s. The following transcripts (from various magazine articles, and also from her autobiography) should provide a vivid portrait of the artist's professional and emotional life at that point in time. Nobody could seem more assured than Peggy when she steps before the mike. Behind the scenes, it’s another story. This canary reveals herself to be as nervous as a cat. Her hands tremble, she puffs incessantly on a cigarette ... It’s all the result of overwork. She has a schedule that would kill a coal miner ... The one thing she can’t do is relax. Here is a typical day in the life of a canary – noted down when Peggy made her first appearance in New York’s Copacabana. Up at 10 a.m., after a plane ride to New York that lasted until dawn. Quick orange juice and black coffee, to be supplemented by a ham sandwich in the smoke-filled rehearsal hall. Rehearsal – she’s a half hour late – is an incredibly noisy and apparently chaotic affair. Then, after that, in rapid succession, a conference with business agents, press agents, phone calls, appointment with hairdresser, press interview, meeting with TV people, letters to dictate, documents to sign. Show begins at 8; she’s there at 7 for a last-minute run-through, costume and makeup. Maybe she’ll get 15 minutes to rest before the show goes on. At 9 p.m. show’s over and she’s due on the floor to meet sponsor and VIP’s. She makes her way downstairs, trying to preserve her expensive costume from flying trays of food, and trying above all to look fresh, charming and gracious. This goes on without modification from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m. At 5 a.m., exhausted but still too overwrought for rest or sleep, she bustles over to some all-night restaurant for scrambled eggs and coffee. Finally, at 6, she rolls into bed completely played out and completely unable to sleep, with the full knowledge that four hours later, she’ll have to get up and start the whole tough routine over again. Here’s a note from Peggy Lee’s press agent, whom we left with Peggy when the routine got too much for us: “Well, you missed it. I guess you know when to stop. Peggy got a cinder in her eye, and had to wear a black patch, like a pirate, until seconds before she went on. One of her suitcases disappeared, containing most of her arrangements. The beads from her most expensive dress came loose and sprayed the floor. The producer had fits, and the bandleader had a temperature of a hundred and two. Well, anyway, the show looked pretty from the viewer’s side." A murderous routine. From "Life of a Canary," by Louis Berg, for the New York Herald Tribune, November 4, 1951 Sometime in the unforeseeable future, Peggy Lee may put in an eight-hour stint and feel that she’s done a day’s work. But, judging from the actress-singer-songwriter-artist’s current behavior, that will be a banner day. Directors know that a session in front of the cameras can be as intensive an effort as a GI’s hike in the hot sun. A lot of them make sure their stars are tenderly tucked into bed almost as soon as the cameras have stopped grinding. But to Peggy, such work is like an hors d’oeuvre before dinner. All it does is whet her appetite for activities yet to come. Here, for instance, is a typical Lee schedule – after a day’s shooting of her new film, Everybody Comes to Rick’s, when the cameras have been tucked in for the night. An hour or two at the typewriter, working on a novel. A breather in her art studio, where she may work on either a piece of sculpture or an oil painting. A session at the piano in the “moody music room” of her Norman French home in Westwood Hills, to polish the lyrics she’s doing for a Disney cartoon. A slight interruption while she goes over the homework of her 10-year-old daughter Nicki. A rehearsal for a forthcoming recording date. A consultation with her agent and manager. And so finally to bed! From "The Fargo Express," by Eckert Goodman, for the New York Daily News, May 10, 1953 At 35, Peggy Lee’s own ambitions are less accurately defined: “to gain control of my life.” But by temperament, long habit and the relentless demands of her career she finds this more easily said than done ... [She] still lives and works each day as if it were her last. She often drives herself beyond the limits of her physical and emotional strength — she has worked throughout several grave illnesses and soon after seve[ral] major operations. And two marriages have broken under the strain. After an evening of work, Peggy often becomes so keyed up that she cannot sleep until almost dawn. Arising in the afternoon, she finds a crowd of associates with pressing problems waiting for her to resolve. “No one makes arrangements for Peggy,” vouches her friend, Victor Young, who often scores her lyrics. “She can’t write a note of music but she knows exactly what she wants to hear.” A perfectionist who cannot delegate any detail, Peggy also dictates all other arrangements in her busy life. Her manager has quit her employ three times in frustration and returned each time, “because I can’t help myself. She’s such a great girl to be around.” Today she confesses, “Sometimes I feel as if I’m on a treadmill not knowing where I’m headed, who I am or what it’s all about!” Yet she finds it almost impossible to step off and find out. Last year Peggy planned six months ahead to attend a week of lectures at a Carmel, California, religious retreat. She drove a thousand miles from a Lake Tahoe engagement, via Hollywood, to the seminar. On her second day, she was called back to work. During the rest of that week, she recorded 24 songs, prepared and opened a new nightclub act at Ciro’s, rehearsed a live television program, painted her terrace and started a bedspread for her daughter’s room. Her talents seem as limitless as her energies. From "Peggy Lee: She Can’t Stop Giving," by Kirtley Baskette, for Redbook, April 1955 In the early 1950s (especially after her divorce from her first husband, her move to New York City, and her signing with Decca Records), Peggy Lee lived a fast-lane life. Talented and driven, she found opportunities to work in many entertainment areas, and was not willing to give up on them. Sleep was something of an afterthought; she writes in her autobiography about falling deep asleep in public places, at the drop of a hat. As a twice-divorced woman in her thirties who was often performing in the nightclub circuit, she was also living an active night life, and dating with some frequency. Social drinking was only too normal an activity among those who lived the nightclub life (and, more generally, in the world of the 1950s). Peggy seems to have taken to drinking and smoking not only on social settings, but also to keep her relaxed and alert at engagements and sessions. Around November of 1953, as she was getting ready for a tour, this train of life caught up with the 33-year-old artist in a bad way: Not even a platinum bombshell can get away with overwork for long. One day, Peggy sat on a sofa in her California house, a taxi waiting outside, airline tickets to Boston in her purse. The taxi honked, but Peggy couldn’t get up. “There I sat,” she says, “mink coat on, all ready to go. My musicians were on the way. We had fifty thousand dollars worth of nightclub bookings, beginning in Boston. And me, I couldn’t hoist myself off that sofa.” From "John Whitcomb Visits Peggy Lee," Cosmopolitan, February 1955 I got my comeuppance ... I got sick, really sick. [N.B.: She had already gone through various serious illnesses, including her first bout with pneumonia, back in the early 1950s. Her second bout, in the early 1960s, would lead to significant lung damage.] They called Dr. Cavanaugh and he said I absolutely must cancel the tour, and Ed Kelly had to find where we had sent Stella Castellucci's harp and Milt Rhinehart's trombone. I think we'd sent them to Boston ... Dr. Cavanaugh said, "Thank God you didn't come home in a box" ... I left with a nurse ... for a four-month rest in Palm Springs in the home of my friends ... From Miss Peggy Lee: An Autobiography "I spent four months just lying in the desert, recharging the old batteries.” I met Peggy shortly after her return from the desert. She was already at work on Lady and the Tramp. She had moved into an apartment on Wilshire Boulevard, glad to be rid of her big house in Bel Air ... She looked around the small apartment, at the grand piano flanking a record player and a harp (Peggy can’t play one, but she’s crazy about harps). From "John Whitcomb Visits Peggy Lee," Cosmopolitan, February 1955 All tanned and rested, when I returned home to L.A. I went back to work, singing at Ciro's. Bob Calhoun [i.e., the oil magnate that she was dating at the time] knew I was looking for a home and he told me about a wonderful house on Kimbridge Road. I couldn't wait ... It was even better than he said ... A view from every room ... We added two new dogs, little pure Pekingese with black eyes, to our menagerie. Life was great. This time I would have the pleasure of ... landscaping. From Miss Peggy Lee: An Autobiography Today Peggy lives in an eight-room contemporary-style house atop a mountain overlooking Beverly Hills. She was told about it one night between songs, inspected it by flashlight and purchased it that night. Peggy did all the landscaping herself. Except for an occasional plunge into her pool, gardening is the only “sport” she has time for. “Peggy has a green thumb,” says her sister, “but her plants have legs. She moves them around restlessly, and they flourish like weeds.” From "Peggy Lee: She Can’t Stop Giving," by Kirtley Baskette, for Redbook, April 1955 I loved my new home, and my friends often said Kimridge Road was always their favorite ... I always thought Kimridge was so romantic ... It was cozy ad lovely. It was a low slung house on top of a hill with an oriental look and a view of seven mountain ranges ... The white marble continued down the hall to my boudoir, which opened on a very private little garden with a trickling fountain. I've always loved the sound of water, the serenity it brings ... Workmen did an excavation for a large fish pond that was about thirty feet deep. We stocked it with white perch, goldfish, carp, and catfish, and planted it with a rock garden that nestled ferns and ivy, moss and every kind of plant that would feel at home there. My favorite was a very old wisteria vine that was thick enough and strong enough to weep over the pond ... We had big mounds on two sides on which we planted Rangoon lime trees, evergreen and all sorts of plants, bushes and trees ... for a Japanese garden. We also built an authentic bridge over the pond from the front entrance over the garden to the pagoda on the other side. We painted it burnt orange and built a giant moon gate at the entrance. We hid a water pump among the plants so you could hear running water everywhere. From Miss Peggy Lee: An Autobiography To be continued
So do I (not surprisingly, I know). Incidentally, Peggy probably inspired the versions by Bobby and Julie, since both of them were big fans of her records. Am happy that you brought up this subject back: perhaps somebody else, with a more definite answer, will read these comments some day, and will share his or her knowledge with us. The biographer that I previously mentioned states that Johnny wrote the female set of lyrics as a gift for Peggy, "femin[izing] the protagonist into la grand femme fatale, the belle of the ball," who enjoys "[w]ealth, fame and countless men," but not love, and who "yearns to recapture the schoolgirl who used to be me." (To further clarify: Johnny wrote two sets of lyrics for this song, one meant for male singers, the other for female singers.) Unfortunately, the biographer does not give us any source for the claim that Johnny intended his 1950 female-oriented lyric to be a gift for Peggy. If it was a present expressly for her, we have to wonder why she would have waited two or three years to record a song that she clearly loved, and which came from such an exalted source. Of course, we could come up with various imaginary scenarios -- even one in which it was Peggy, instead of Maggie, who Capitol dissuaded from taking the song to the studio. But, for me, the fact remains that a reliable source is still needed. As far as possibilities go, though, the claim is entirely believable. The first known recording of the song seems to have been the one made by Bing Crosby in October of 1951. Earlier than that, in the summer of that same year, Peggy had hosted a seven-episode radio show on which one of her seven guests had been Mercer. Unfortunately, I have never heard the episode, nor do I know if it has survived at all. But, to the point: the episode could have served as the occasion on which Johnny presented Peggy with the song. In this summer series, she even had a segment called Peggy's Preview, during which she sang numbers that were brand new at the time. (I should further add that she hosted another radio show in 1952, and sang "When the World Ws Young" in two of its episodes. So, even if she did not record Mercer's number until May of 1953, she had been singing it since at least February of 1952.) About the theory that Johnny meant "When the World Was Young" for Margaret to sing at Capitol, I can only say that nothing is impossible. We do know that they were relatively close; we also know that sometimes (most likely, in his later years, rather than in the 1950s) he would ask her to sing one of his brand new songs, just to get a better idea of how they sounded. .crystalised, you might be happy to hear that there is a version of this song by Margaret, and it's on CD! Well, I am fibbing a little bit. It's more like a Maggie mini-version ... and yet it is almost seven minutes long. Here is the CD where you can find it: As the front cover indicates, the contents of this 1997 CD are from a PBS special. For the special's closer, all the participating artists joined in, each one singing a few lines from "When the World Was Young," Margaret included.
Brilliant. It was the self-reflection that Peggy invited while recovering from a time of emotional and physical exhaustion which allowed her to become consciously aware of simple pleasures (hidden around her own home and deep within her own interests) to serve as inspiration for Sea Shells.
Interesting. Peggy's last session for Capitol was in February of 1952. If the song was rejected by the label, its rejection for Peggy is more plausible than for Margaret, since Peggy was already familiar with the tune while still recording for Capitol. You're right, though - anything was possible, and the details may be lost to history. Thank you for entertaining my thoughts on the matter just the same Ah, so Margaret took a stab at a couple lines of it, anyway. Neat! Thanks for alerting me - I was unaware!
THE DECCA PERIOD: SEA SHELLS (CONTINUED) Genesis of the Album (More Background Information) A week ago, I posted about the album Sea Shells, whose songs were recorded in February and March of 1955. This is my second post on the subject. The earlier post's main topic was Peggy Lee's state of being during the years that preceded the album's conception. To sum up: a relentless work schedule (along with fast-lane living, limited sleep, and an attendant recourse to stimulants) had caused Lee to collapse. In mid- or late November of 1953, her doctors gave her no other alternative but to submit to a long period of rest. Thus the singer left Hollywood for a very extensive, medically imposed stay in Palm Springs. Four months later, Peggy Lee returned from the desert with a renewed thirst ... for more work. She was eager to resume her singing career, and she was also itching to change her living conditions. As already mentioned, Lee did move to a new residence in the Hollywood area. Featuring a Japanese-style garden built for her, the cool environment of this new home was more in tune with the spiritual serenity that she was trying to build within herself. (End of summary. That's where the previous post had left off, more or less.) Professionally, Lee did revert to a schedule that was demanding, but not as hectic as it had been in previous years. Her initial nightclub appearances were done locally -- first at Ciro's in West Hollywood, and then, in June, at the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco. (The latter would have required only a short amount of traveling.) Beginning with the movie Johnny Guitar, she also went back to working on film, though only as a lyricist, at this point in time. She came into the recording studio, too (starting on May 1, 1954, when she recorded a version of "Johnny Guitar" for Decca). But Lee did not immediately book herself for TV appearances (most of which still necessitated to do traveling to New York), nor did she return to regular radio work. (On the matter of radio ... Earlier in the decade, she had hosted her own twice-a-week program, for a year.) Old habits die hard, though. By the second half of 1954, Peggy Lee's work schedule was looking hectic again. In October, we find her back in New York, performing in the nightclub circuit and appearing on TV as well (the Perry Como show). But that was not all; something new (and nebulous) was about to appear in the horizon. The songstress had allowed her management agency to book her on a month-long traveling tour, as part of a package whose two other main acts were Billy Eckstine and The Drifters. It would be her very first time on one of such touring package. It was not bound to be an easygoing experience. The tour was slated to open on Friday, October 15, 1954 in Norfolk, Virginia, moving next to Raleigh, North Carolina. Peggy could not have foreseen how tough a competition she was about to face on those lands. While she was merely getting ready to fly there, a louder and far more contentious female had already started to force her way through the Carolinas. Her name was Hazel. Hazel was a category 4 hurricane that devastated the state, and which is still remembered as one of the worst to ever pass through the States. But, showbusiness being showbusiness, Lee and company braved the hurricane, traveling by bus from New York to Virginia on one day (going through quite a few scares along the way), and then on to North Carolina on the following day. (Originally, they had booked a flight. Upon hearing news of an incoming storm, they proceeded to cancel the flight, resorting to the bus as an alternative. Meanwhile, Billy Eckstine kept his booking on a plane, and ended up stranded at the airport.) Following that precarious start, the entire tour was, according to Lee herself, filled with sturm und drang. By the first of November, she had already left the tour, which ended up being cut short. (The enterprise was never able to recuperate from the losses that Hazel had brought about on its first week.) Meanwhile (in November or December), Lee had to go to the operating table, for the removal of a benign tumor that required additional rest, this time in her house. The Album's Concepts (And Conception) Staying at home was all for the better, of course. No stormy weather there -- just the still waters of the pond in her garden. This peaceful environment must have contributed to certain thoughts that she began to entertain in or around January of 1955. As disclosed by Stella Castellucci, the harp player who was a member of the singer's regular group at this point in time: "Peg shared her ideas with me a month before the actual recording of what would become Sea Shells. She wanted to make an album of folk songs, sea chants, and children's play songs accompanied by harp. We started from there and it took shape ... It took its own natural course. Peg and I seemed to work with one mind ... She knew the words to the old familiar folk songs and nursery rhymes." Along with Lee, Castellucci must be considered the other leading mind in the creation of the album. Here are some additional comments of hers, taken from Diving Deep for Sea Shells, the autobiography that she co-wrote with Edgar Amaya: "All of my life, seahorses, butterflies and ladybugs have been my favorite creatures ... I love sea shells and have a collection of them in my music room ... I keep them next to the biographical books on Peg." We can safely surmise that the world of Sea Shells is deeply imbued with the perspectives of both Stella (shells lover, lifelong harp player) and Peggy (water lover, erstwhile impersonator of an animated lyre). Water and Shells: Sea Fever "I've always loved the sound of water, the serenity it brings," Lee made a point of saying in her autobiography. Mentally correlating it to a serene, peaceful state of mind, Lee's love for bodies of water motivated the construction of the oriental-style pond in her brand new home. It also served as the fundamental inspiration behind the conception of Sea Shells. Once more, confirmation comes from Stella Castellucci: "The center of Peg's home allowed her to get in touch with water. She always had a pool. The Japanese garden she had at one of her homes was magnificent ... Peg loved to do her own work in her gardens. She enjoyed planting in the Earth. That was something we both have in common ... Peg's creativity had a lot to do with water, as can be surmised with Sea Shells and a song like The Shining Sea." Within the Sea Shells album, nowhere is such a connection made clearer than in its opening song, "Sea Fever": As for the choice of title for the album, it would be natural to assume that Castellucci was directly responsible for it. Such was not the case, however. "You know, these songs are such small, delicate little things," the harp player recalls Lee saying, "why don't we call them sea shells?" The singer's line of thinking is further spelled out in a note to album listeners, printed on the back cover of the LP itself: Dear friend, Do you remember gathering sea shells when you were a child? For me, the songs and poems in this album are something like sea shells. They were chosen more because of a genuine fondness than for any other reason. The moods and memories they bring, to me, are very peaceful, and I hope we agree. I hope the might put you in a pleasant mood and perhaps awaken a fond memory or two. Sincerely, Peggy Lee To be continued
THE DECCA PERIOD: SEA SHELLS (CONTINUED) Of Books Ancient and Modern: Sources of Inspiration (II) Our previous post stated that Sea Shells was largely inspired by certain concepts and imagery, such as shell life and calm waters. Let's move on now to some of its other sources of inspiration -- more concrete ones. Foremost among those are two books. One, called Music Of Many Lands And Peoples, combines narration with musically annotated songs. Found by Lee's then-manager, who gave it to her as a gift, this 1932 publication was the source of "Sea Fever," the album's opening number. Sea Shells' other book source appears to have been part of Lee's own home library. (During these years, Lee was an avid reader. She had also just written her own volume of poetry, a privately published 39-page book.) Called Chinese Love Poems From Most Ancient To Modern Times, this second text served as the source for the numbers that Lee recites in a YouTube clip above (at the end of my first Sea Shells post). A third book which merits mention herein is Gift from the Sea, even if it is not known to have been a source for Sea Shells. For our purposes, this book's merit lies in the similarities that it shares with the album. Women are behind the creation of both projects, which were conceived on the same year (1955). Further similarities in background and contents can be gleaned from the following write-up (found online): In 1955 Anne Morrow Lindbergh spent two weeks at an island beach to reflect on her life and the need for balance in her daily patterns of work and relationships. When she returned to her home, her husband, and five children in a New York suburb, she took five shells with her to remind her of the island precepts she had observed. In Gift from the Sea, Lindbergh asks what roads one can take to live life from an inward harmony ......... I do not know on which month of 1955 this book came out, but -- judging from the assertion, above, that Lindbergh's two weeks at the beach took place in 1955 -- I assume it to have been published later than February and March, when Sea Shells was recorded. (Incidentally, and just in case that the last name rings a bell for you: Anne Morrow was the wife of Charles Lindbergh, the famous aviator. They were the victims at the heart of one the most infamous and highly publicized cases of baby kidnapping ever.) The Sessions and the Songs Though Sea Shells was recorded on just two days, Decca split its masters into five sessions, as follows: 1. February 7, 1955 Performer: Peggy Lee (with Stella Castellucci) Numbers: Sea Fever Chinese Love Poems (first set) Chinese Love Poems (second set) The Riddle SongStatus: All numbers were included in the album. 2. February 7, 1955 Performer: Nicki Barbour (with Stella Castellucci) Number: Au Clair de la Lune Status: Never issued. Note: Nicki was Lee's daughter, then 11 years old. 3. February 7, 1955 Performer: Stella Castellucci (with Gene DiNovi) Numbers: Le Bon Petit Roi D'Yvetot (aka Chaconne) Greensleeves / The Happy Monks (medley) La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin (aka The Maid With The Flaxen Hair) Status: All numbers issued in the album, though the medley was separated into two tracks. Note: In the medley, Peggy Lee is credited as the arranger of the 1st song and composer of the 2nd. 4. February 7, 1955 Performer: Peggy Lee (with Stella Castellucci & Gene DiNovi) Numbers: The Legend of the Well I Don't Want to Play in your Yard Little Old Car The Golden Wedding Ring A Brown Bird SingingStatus: All songs included in the album except the first, which was never issued. Note: Peggy Lee co-wrote the 3rd as well as the 4th song. 5. March 31, 1955 Performer: Peggy Lee (with Stella Castellucci & Gene DiNovi)* Numbers: Nine Thorny Thickets Greensleeves / The Happy Monks (medley) * The White Birch and the Sycamore Of Such Is the Kingdom of God The Wearing of the GreenStatus: All numbers issued in the album except the 2nd, which is listed in Decca's files as unissued. *Notes: The medley is an instrumental by Castellucci and DiNovi. It is also a reprise. The 3rd number was co-written by Peggy Lee. (Still) to be continued
In her autobiography, Nina plainly states that she learned the song from Peggy. Being a fan of both singers, I'm well acquainted with both versions, but can't recall which one I heard first. That having been said, I confess that the version currently running in my brain is neither of those (sacrilege!) ... ... but Keely Smith's. That's probably because I listened to her Intimate CD a week or so ago. I don't know if they truly are, but that would be my guess, too. When you say "soundtrack quality," I assume that you are referring to the audio of the YouTube clip (the one featuring the scene from the movie), right? I believe that the versions on the Decca LP are actually different from the ones heard on the film. By the way, Peggy's film soundtrack versions of "He Needs Me" and "Sugar" are also on LP -- on a rare, various-artists vinyl set, featuring soundtrack numbers from many films.
Agreed; the film versions sound like different performances than the Decca masters. Indeed, my comments about sound quality were in reference to the audio from that YouTube clip. There's a clarity, balance and dimension to the soundtrack that gives sparkle and life to the performances. Peggy's vocals are crystal clear, and the mixing is very good. The Decca masters are dull by comparison, although I've only heard the original LP and the Brunswick EP. Other sources might have a different sound. One wishes that a major record label focused on the performances could match if not exceed the sound quality of a film in which the songs are featured only in a few passing scenes. Alas, I assume that film studios spend more money. Are the film performances presented in stereo on that various artist LP set? Apparently they're included in a Warner Bros CD box too, but I can't find a copy for a decent price.
Thanks for this great thread, Ridin' High. Peggy Lee was on a cross-country flight that I took with my family in 1970. My mother's fear of flying was overcome by a few scotch and sodas, Peggy (seemingly similarly relaxed) changed seats with my father and joined my mother in conversation for most of the 6 hour flight. I didn't quite get why my parents, and especially my mother, were so thrilled to have spent this time with someone I only knew as the old woman who sang Is That All There Is. I gained more of an understanding some years later, mainly through a few albums from the '50's. I have gained much more of an appreciation from this thread... And now will have to see how costly that will be...
