Word: songful
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...taking a trip to Vegas. Or I'll go to Cape Cod with a book.' I don't think they're going to do that. I used to fish. I don't want to go back," he says. "That's the nature of people. It's like the old song, How you going to keep them down on the farm once they've been to gay Paris?" The last part, Adelson, whose bank account has been pretty much wiped out by the recession, sings. And rather well...
...done today.) Her vocal approach was less an attack than a seduction - sensuous in an elevated, healthy way, like aerobic sex in a ski lodge. She sold those old tunes with a modern attitude that never stooped to irony or anachronism. And she never put more into a song than she did with "How High the Moon...
...High the Moon' had terrific verve," said Bill Wyman, long the Rolling Stones' bassist, "proof at last that pop could provide stylish, instrumental inventiveness." So it's instructive to listen closely to "How High the Moon" - not a chore, since the song provides as much musical exhilaration now as it did when it was released, in March 1951. It encapsulates the lithe popular art of all those Les and Mary singles - the density and clarity, the distinctiveness of his guitar voice and her intimate vocal instrument, the heart and the fun. It's a number that expresses the choral lilt...
...smooth voice, multiplied into three-part harmony by Paul's studio gizmonics. She coos, "Somewhere there's mu-u-u-sic," coaxing four syllables out of the word by gliding over them rather than hiccuping through them. She wants the listener to know this is an up-tempo love song, not a stuttering novelty. In the bridge - "There is no moon above, and love is far away too" - she lightly swings "above" and "and love," almost gulping each first syllable. You expect her to do the same with "is far," but she smartly refuses to surrender to giddy syncopation...
Once the set began to wind down and we made our way towards the bridge, the band struck up its final song. I recognized the first few chords. Good Vibrations—my favorite. The crowd joined in, and I belted along, not caring about hitting the notes or staying in key. I was seven years old again. My sun-drenched beaches were nowhere to be seen, but it didn’t matter...