Sometimes, even for someone like me, enthralled by the computer, it’s worth checking the mail (aside from the usual deforesting) . . . when it’s something like this. Disregard the 1935 jingoism (were Americans being besieged from abroad by records made by foreigners?) and consider this lovely artifact:
I thought, when I saw this precious disc, that perhaps some JAZZ LIVES readers might not know it, might not have risen in hope and fallen in sorrow along with Connie, in her three-minute journey from exultant hope to rueful acceptance (all thanks to Sam Coslow, who didn’t need any collaborator on this song, Victor Young, and the only identified member of the orchestra, Larry Altpeter, trombone). The steps up are also the steps down, only more steep:
Connie is passionate, yet she never overacts: she doesn’t break up the line to impress us, to convey her authenticity. And the result is a deeply-felt soliloquy and a three-minute dance record, succeeding at both. If you haven’t, investigate Connie’s solo recordings from 1931 onwards. I mean no slight to Vet and Martha, but Connie can go right to your heart in four bars.
May your happiness increase!