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Winter 2000 |
Betty Bennett: Nobody Else
But Me by Bill Reed; Los Angeles, California
In 1990 I came across a new CD, The Song Is You, on the (mostly reissue) Fresh Sounds label by a singer with whom I was only slightly familiar. I knew that Betty Bennett had once been married to Andre Previn and had recorded a few albums, mostly for obscure label and/or long-gone labels like Trend and Kapp in the 1950s. I remembered, too, that before Bennett went out on her own, she'd been a respected band singer with Kenton, Ventura, Herman, Barnett, Thornhill et al. I was intrigued. Her last album, as far as I know, had been more than thirty years earlier, on the United Artists label. Had anyone, even Alberta Hunter, gone so long without recording? I finally bought The Song Is You not so much for Bennett, but for the musicians backing her. It was like dying and going to sideman heaven! George Cables, Bob Cooper, Monty Budwig, Roy McCurdy and Mundell Lowe. But I ended up appreciating The Song is You as much for Bennett's singing as for the playing. Ever since then, I've kept a sharp lookout for her 1950s sides, especially the 1956 Nobody Else But Me on Atlantic, her final album but one. A fine track from the Sidewalks of Cuba album, appearing on the 1994 CD compilation, Atlantic Jazz Vocals, Volume 1, found me redoubling my efforts to search out the elusive Bennett. Finally my perseverance has paid off with this somewhat recent, sensibly-priced Japanese reissue in the East West Jazz Vocal Collection. A companion release is Ann Richard's Ann, Man! (See review elsewhere.) The liner notes for the Fresh Sounds CD are by ex-husband, Previn. How very modern. And Previn's recently recorded with Bennett's current mate, guitarist Mundell Lowe. (How very, very modern!) Modern, too, is the backing on Bennett's 1956 Atlantic session; a steering committee of stellar 1950s West Coast jazz players: Manne, Rosolino, Giuffre, Rogers, and - here's that name again - Previn. To everybody but Mabel Mercer, the songs on Nobody Else But Me would have been considered deeply rechereche. Today, the likes of Kaper and LaTouche's The Next Time I Care, the Gershwins' Treat Me Rough, and Robin and Hollander's This Is the Moment wouldn't raise an eyebrow. And has anyone else but Bennett ever recorded the verse of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, heard here? In his liner notes for the original issue (included here along with the English lyrics and Japanese translations), Ralph Gleason seems at pains to explain Bennett's straight-ahead presence amongst such a stellar support group of jazz musicians. His defensiveness is well-taken. True, Bennett's timbre and "sound" are like those of a less mannered Sylvia Syms. But, harmonically and rhythmically, the Nebraska-born singer would never be taken for a jazz singer. Hers is a technically conscious, carefully produced voice. But the more agitato the beat, the more her band era credentials show. Finally, on the highest BPM (beats per minute) numbers like Sidewalks of Cuba and Island in the West Indies, it becomes clear that if Bennett's not the real thing, she's close enough for jazz It's always rewarding when artists who've not worked for a while come out of hiding and show that they're better than ever, like Bennett did in 1990. In earlier decades it was the songbird and not the songboy who "took time off to raise a family." Along with laundering the nappies and ironing hubby's shirts, she was apparently woodshedding all the while. Now if only someone would only reissue her UA, Trend and Kapp efforts and, better yet, get Betty Bennett back into a recording studio before another thirty years pass.
Tracks: Running time: 37:41 |
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