Tag Archives: Terry Shand

PART TWO: WE STILL MISS JOHN SHERIDAN (Jazz at Chautauqua, September 21, 2012)

Every time he faced the piano, John Sheridan generously shared his affection for the melody, his consistent clarity and coherence. His creations passed what I think of as the test of great art: making it look so simple when it is anything but. And his swinging rhythmic energies never failed us. Here are two more (previously unseen) performances from the 2012 Jazz at Chautauqua weekend.

Terry Shand’s LOVE LIES (a delightful nod to Louis in the middle):

Irving Berlin, over rolling rhythms:

and — something I wanted more people to experience — because beneath the surface gruffness, John was a deep romantic, Frank Loesser’s I’VE NEVER BEEN IN LOVE BEFORE:

These three performances are only a small part of why we miss John Sheridan. Fortunately for us, he recorded prolifically on Arbors Records and was caught often on YouTube . . . but those reminders are now poignant as well as memorable.

May your happiness increase!

“I’M WISE TO ALL THOSE TRICKS YOU PLAYED ON ME”: LUCY YEGHIAZARYAN SINGS AT MEZZROW (Stefan Vasnier, Vincent Dupont, Greg Ruggiero: January 28, 2020)

I admire the art of Lucy Yeghiazaryan — learn more here — and I am not alone.

Here are two more wonderful performances by Lucy, with pianist Stefan Vasnier, string bassist Vincent Dupont, and guitarist Greg Ruggiero — created at Mezzrow on her late-Tuesday set, January 28, 2020.  (If you missed her passionate PRISONER OF LOVE, here is that remarkable experience.)

“Happiness writes in white ink on a white page,” says Henry de Montherlant, and the ache of failed love has been a fertile subject for songwriters — much more than the Twenties’ optimism of “My baby and me are getting married in June.”

In PRISONER OF LOVE, the singer speaks of being “too weak to break the chains that bind me,” where the jail term sounds like a life sentence.  THE GENTLEMAN IS A DOPE, lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, music by Richard Rodgers, from the 1947 show ALLEGRO, has a much more arch premise, mixing yearning and derision: the one I adore is too stupid to notice my love:

That lover is still stuck in mid-passion, but the protagonist of I’M GONNA LOCK MY HEART (AND THROW AWAY THE KEY) aims a declaration of independence right at the faithless, treacherous partner, in this 1938 Jimmy Eaton-Terry Shand song associated with Billie Holiday:

Thankfully, Lucy and friends are gigging here and there (“follow her on Facebook,” as they say) but the next Mezzrow appearance will be Tuesday, February 25.  I plan to be there, perhaps at that same second table on the left.

May your happiness increase!

A NEW SONG FOR THE COMMUTE, THANKS TO LEO, RALPH, and RICH

RUSH HOUR

Last night, coming home from The Ear Inn, I tuned in to everyone’s Sunday-night pleasure, THE BIG BROADCAST, that delicious periscope into the first forty or so years of the last century, watched over by the generous and unpredictable Rich Conaty.  (Quick translation: It’s a radio show.  Fordham University Radio, New York, WFUV-FM and streaming: 8 PM to midnight, our time.)  Details  here.

I heard this song — new to me but immediately captivating — IN A ONE-ROOM FLAT.  It isn’t ALL THE THINGS YOU ARE or THANKS FOR THE MEMORY, but it sticks whimsically in the brain.  The 1933 recording is by Freddie Martin and his Orchestra; I believe the singer is Terry Shand, who had deep jazz connections.  And it comes from a Maurice Chevalier musical film called THE WAY TO LOVE (with Ann Dvorak, Edward Everett Horton, and Douglas Dumbrille).

And the song — perhaps one of their trifles? — is by Leo Robin (lyrics) and Ralph Rainger (music), two of my secular saints.

It raises the larger question: what do you need to make you happy?  Worth pondering.  For now, listen a few times and I can almost guarantee that you will be humming it later in the day.

May your happiness increase.