This is a performance I keep coming back to, and if you observe it closely once, I suspect you’ll understand why once isn’t enough. Part of it is the melding of individual voices into something larger that at the same time honors the individuals making those sounds. Part of it is the quiet intensity of feeling: there are no sharp noises, nothing to scare the pets, but the performance quietly builds. The four masters here are Ray Skjlebred, piano (thinking of Bing Crosby and Joe Sullivan); Marc Caparone, cornet; Beau Sample, string bass; Hal Smith, drums. This small marvel took place at the 35th San Diego Jazz Fest, on November 28, 2014:
The song, SOMEDAY SWEETHEART, is a trustworthy classic: I can’t think of a bad performance of it on record or in person, and it is one of those creations that holds two selves within it — as if it were a hologram, greeny-orange when held one way to the light, and blue-mauve from another angle. The melody itself is caressing and could be an endearing love song; the lyrics are another matter, stating plainly that the wandering / cruel lover is going to be punished for his / her acts. Quite a combination. But I encourage you to warm yourself by this performance. The light and feeling these four players generate, properly appreciated, will last.
(My only question about the song itself is a small one: is there a comma between the two words? I’ve seen it both ways.)
May your happiness increase!