Julie Is Her Name

WHAT NYMITH SAYS

1955 wasn't a particularly awesome year in music, but it was something of a last hurrah for smooth sophistication. Bill Haley was becoming more popular, rock and roll was right around the corner, and yet 1955 was the début year of Julie London, the first LP release by Tony Bennett and the rejuvenation of Frank Sinatra's career with the critically-lauded In the Wee Small Hours. Posterity would give the year to Sinatra, but I actually think Julie London owns it with just one song: 'Cry Me a River.'

'Cry Me a River' is the quintessential torch song. London was not gifted with much range as a singer, but she had a smoky, overcast voice perfect for the emotionally numb intimacy required of the torch song. She sings it from the very edge of not caring anymore. It's a performance, and in tone and phrasing she nails it on this song more than any other. The arrangement is simplicity itself: guitar and bass (Barney Kessel and Ray Leatherwood, respectively). You want the singer to be able to approach, and Liberty Records deserves vast praise for allowing London to proceed with such minimal backing. Then there's the lyric. Purely as my own interpretation, I believe it's not a torch song if there's not a clear sense of intelligence behind the characters. "You left me on my own." That's a sad song. "Told me love was too plebeian/told me you were through with me." THAT'S a torch song.

With that as the leadoff track, the rest of Julie is Her Name is a bit of a step down. Nothing else ever rises to that height and if you wait for another 'Cry Me a River' you'll only spoil the experience for yourself, which is quite unfair. It's a mood album. Because of the purity of the arrangement and London's reliable delivery, there isn't actually much to complain of except for occasional iffy song selection. The run-down:

First of all, London does best with the sad numbers. Bright and shining love songs are not her forte. Not that she does them badly, just that she brings an extra spark to the darkness of songs like 'Say It Isn't So' and 'I Should Care.' The icy emptiness of her voice in the latter makes it perfectly clear that she DOESN'T care - maybe she wants to, but it's too late to go back. Strong stuff.

She also puts a fine spin on 'I'm Glad There Is You.' When Ella Fitzgerald sang it she sounded warm and welcoming: the world is a fine place and it's finer now that I've found you. Julie London turns it around: the world is a bore and it might be more tolerable now that I've found you. When the material defies London's interpretive mark, that's when there's trouble.

The biggest mistake is the quick tempo of 'S'Wonderful.' Cole Porter is a very uncomfortable match to start with, especially a song as chirpy as this one. Ironically, they rein it in at the end of the song and give it the Julie London treatment. Why didn't they slow it down right from the get-go? It sticks out like a sore thumb as it is.

Ooh, and she covers 'It Never Entered My Mind' the same year as Frank Sinatra! So which version is better? Actually, skip it - both are rubbish. It's a bland, horrible song. "Now I even have to scratch my back myself?" Gee, I wonder why he/she left? And the ordering orange juice line. Please spare me.

Those two are the odd ones out. Julie is Her Name is otherwise very consistent. 'I'm in the Mood for Love' is swoonworthy (particularly for the straight males in the audience). 'Easy Street' would have been a better fit for Lena Horne, I imagine, but she does fine. 'No Moon at All' has an atmospheric lyric. Oh and there's 'I Love You,' whose lyrical problems are obvious just from the title. Not a shred of darkness, just daffodils and "birds on the wing again," but she does sing "you-ou-ooo-oo...mee-ee-eee-ee...." rather gorgeously at the end, so I'm torn.

The best is saved for the end. London does a captivating rendition of 'Laura,' the brevity of the song and the sparseness of the arrangement allowing it to take on a truly ghostly character. If 'Cry Me A River' wasn't included on the album, this would be a likely candidate for best track. Then it's followed by 'Gone With the Wind,' which isn't anything special on its own but it makes for a great closer just by allowing her to sing "gone with the wind..." over a slow fadeout. Very nice indeed.

Alas for spare arrangements! London never had them again, to the best of my knowledge, and with the intimacy lost is lost the outstanding way she rose above her competition. This is THE Julie London album. Play it alone, late at night and treasure the vibe.

WHAT TICHARU SAYS

A lot of these albums by "singers" are kind of like ambient music. You know that kind of background music where nothing happens. You either find the sound of it comforting or you don't. With a singer, any singer, you either like the sound of their voice or you don't. If you like the sound of Julie London's voice this is about the best place to wrap yourself up in it, under a blanket preferably in a darkened room, maybe even in a closet,... I don't know. Here she's singing quietly with intent over an equally restrained guitar and bass. Perfection? Possibly, unless you like caterwauling which certainly has its place, just not on this record, or I suspect any Julie London record. This record defines the word intimate as in closeness, nearness in proximity to the voice of Julie London. A couple of times the spell is broken by the use of reverb which is suppose to give the illusion of Julie drifting off into the ether. So that's a bit daft. The other thing you'll want to do, since you're not used to this kind of low-key event under a blanket in the closet, is to program your playlist to track Cry Me A River last! You'll have gotten perfectly used to her voice by then and the brilliance of that song will be that much more apparent. If you play Cry Me A River first you'll be disappointed by the rest of the album though there's absolutely nothing wrong with it. Follow the instructions!