Carmen McRae

How about a little musical nostalgia? I’m listening to Carmen McRae, an old love of mine. What a sensational voice she had. In her early years it was clear as a bell, singing all the old American jazz and pop standards. It was a young, innocent voice. And then she grew older and her voice grew older, tinged with the smoke and booze of countless club dates, kind of like what Sinatra’s voice did, getting stylistically better with experience and the awareness of life’s sadness. My first encounter with Carmen was in 1955 when I was in New York trying to find my way in life. I bought a 45 of hers, with probably six or eight tracks. Cost me about $1.99 back then. It had a white cover with nine luscious red singing mouths and lips. I went to the Carmen McRae website and there it was, the cover I remembered after fifty-six years.

Oh, how I wish I still had that record. I guess what I’m really wishing for is that time for me when life was still on fast-forward. I was in New York right after I got out of the army, working for the Washington Detective Agency, making what was then a lot of money, about a hundred a week. And I spent it as fast as I made it. But I digress. Back to Carmen. Sit quietly and listen to her rendition of an old Blossom Dearie song, “Inside a Silent Tear.” Listen as she sings and follow the slide show, a portfolio of empty benches. What a great song sung by a great singer. Then, if you’re impressed, I recommend you listen to “He Was Too Good to Me” and “Blame It on My Youth.” If you don’t come away a Carmen fan like I am, you must be tone deaf.