Daily Archives: June 3, 2015

I HEAR AMERICA SINGING: TERRY BLAINE AND MARK SHANE (May 8, 2015)

This post is dedicated to my most beloved Big Sister, and I delight that she is around to read it and sing along.Shine-On-Harvest-Moon-1908

Here is the first part of the gorgeously expert yet unaffected concert that Terry Blaine (she of the wondrous heartfelt voice) and Mark Shane (our Swing Mozart) gave at the Croton Free Library on May 8, 2015.  The songs are HONEYSUCKLE ROSE, BREAD AND GRAVY, and MY MELANCHOLY BABY.

I knew the verse and chorus to HARVEST MOON, and many of you will, too:

First verse:

The night was mighty dark so you could hardly see,
For the moon refused to shine.
Couple sitting underneath a willow tree,
For love they did pine.
Little maid was kinda ‘fraid of darkness
So she said, “I guess I’ll go.”
Boy began to sigh, looked up at the sky,
And told the moon his little tale of woe:

Chorus:

Oh, Shine on, shine on, harvest moon
Up in the sky;
I ain’t had no lovin’
Since April, January, June or July.
‘s no time, ain’t no time to stay
Outdoors and spoon;
So shine on, shine on, harvest moon,
For me and my gal.

(I always heard “‘s no time” as “snow time,” which may make its own particular kind of sense.)

But wait!  There’s more!

SHINE ON HARVEST MOON was a theatrical presentation: the singer told a story.  So there’s a second verse.  What joy!

I can’t see why a boy should sigh when by his side
Is the girl he loves so true,
All he has to say is: “Won’t you be my bride,
For I love you,
I can’t see why I’m telling you this secret,
When I know that you can guess.”
Harvest moon will smile,
Shine on all the while,
If the little girl should answer “yes.”

I was half-weeping with joy and quietly singing along.  The experience of being in a room of people united by that impulse is wondrous.  And to be led by Terry and Mark means we were all in the best loving hands:

I saw, in the darkness behind the piano (out of camera view) the approving ghosts of Ethel Waters, Count Basie, Fats Waller, and Nora Bayes.

I wouldn’t want to go back to 1908.  No video cameras there; no blog.  But I dream wistfully of a time when everyone knew some of the same songs; when people sang along; when the common language was love, and about love.  Terry and Mark so sweetly embody that time in music.  I bless them.

May your happiness increase! 

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