Word: singeing
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...really like it. I think they should perform more jazz though. Last year they didn't do enough jazz. I really, really love doing it though," said Fiona V. Anderson '88, who will sing three songs...
...explaining the other night at a place called O'Shea's, a vast waterfront establishment that seats 500 when they aren't dancing to Stan. "We mute the trumpets and the trombones, and we blow easy. After that, we let them have it." And so he did, with Sing, Sing, Sing, Sing...
...feel he was a little long in the tooth to stick with that game. Then he had five years making mellower music for the country-club set, suffering in the end the ignominy of accompanying himself with tapes "because I couldn't afford a band. Then I didn't sing at all for a couple months, and I, like, went crazy." When the invitation to sing with Stan came along last year, he leaped for it. "I've always liked this music. I knew I could do it." And indeed he can. Using arrangements that were surefire lady-killers...
...hours more the people swung this starry Florida night, swung on through Never Should Have Told You, And the Angels Sing, Moonglow, These Foolish Things Remind Me of You. The band knocked off at the Cinderella hour, its leader a happy man. "I'm always hopped up after a job," he said. "I love it. I just love it. Do you remember White Castle hamburgers? They come frozen now. They come in a box. You pop them in the microwave and then eat them in the bed. Beautiful. They taste just like they did in the street." Given the hour...
With rock 'n' roll, a generation of kids declared themselves cultural orphans. They told their perplexed parents, "We don't sing the same language. Yours is repression and responsibility; ours is energy and anarchy. Rock music is a code you'll never understand. It takes us higher and deeper than you could ever hope to go. And so you have nothing to teach us. We're tuned in. You butt...