My favorite Anita O'Day album for Verve is Anita O'Day and Billy May Swing Rodgers and Hart. Interestingly, O'Day hated it. Then again, she also disdained Billy May for a variety of reasons. And the feeling was mutual. Recorded in June 1960, the album intermingles ferocious band arrangements and tender string charts on some of the American Songbook's most novel tunes. In nearly every case, O'Day's interpretation is bursting with peppery swing and cool seduction.
O'Day's scrunched-face reaction to the date persisted over time. Even in 2004, when author James Gavin visited O'Day to play the remastered CD for her to add color to his fine liner notes, the singer was ambivalent and edgy. Writes Jim:
"I asked if she had picked any of the songs. 'I think they just laid 'em on me,' she said, shrugging. Five years earlier she had told me more: 'I had them rehearsed at my house a couple of times so I could hear the structure. I learn the words as a poem, and I learn the chords the way it was constructed. The game is to put 'em together, and don't falter! But I had no chops, so I had to, like, fake it. And then I found out, like, the faking was better than doing the melody. Yes!"
As Jim also points out in his notes about O'Day's Verve years and her flinty personality...
"Melody Maker reported an exchange between her and trumpeter Don Fagerquist. 'Stop! Stop!' she said angrily, pointing at him. 'What's the matter with you, man? You played exactly the same thing last time. Like play something different, man!'"
O'Day's scorn for Billy May was a style matter. As she wrote in her autobiography with George Eells...
"I sketched the tunes on tape and Billy embellished them for the arrangements. Good deal, except that his music was too loud for me, and the engineer put us all on one track, so remixing was impossible. I was always being buried. The needle would be bouncing around the dial making the engineer think my voice was on top of the music, because of my false peaks.
"Once when I complained the strings were too loud, Billy bristled: 'Get your own fucking orchestra.' Inside I flared, but outside I smiled: 'Too late, Billy. I've already had my own band.' Humor got us through."
Whatever O'Day's beefs with this album, many of her sonic nit-picks were resolved on the 2004 remastering. At the time of the recording, O'Day was addicted to heroin, which didn't seem to have much of an impact on her phrasing though years later could have made her more sensitive to results. As for her salty and impatient personality, O'Day's burning desire to take creative risks and produce spectacular results often left others in the dust, particularly those who were overloaded with studio work and may have been tapped out. On the other hand, Rodgers and Hart wasn't an easy date. Johnny One Note needed 12 takes, and the others averaged five each.
Nevertheless, every track on Rodgers and Hart is an stunning knockout. Has anyone ever put over Ten Cents a Dance more convincingly? What about the hand-on-hip delivery of Hart's fabulous lyrics to To Keep My Love Alive? And catch O'Day surfing the swinging sax writing on I Could Write a Book. Doesn't get much better than this, and each track comes with its own special qualities.
While the band does overshadow O'Day in places, the writing is so spirited you hardly notice. Russ Garcia produced, which makes me think he may have played a strong, uncredited role in the string charts and possibly the orchestrations. I'll ask him.
For now, listen hard to this gem. The band is powerful, turning this date into a batting-cage job for O'Day, who swings for the fences on each song—but always with charm and finesse.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Anita O'Day and Billy May Swing Rodgers and Hart at iTunes or here. Dig these samples. These tracks are so delightfully upbeat and addictive.
JazzWax clip: Unfortunately, I couldn't find a single track from Rodgers & Hart on YouTube. But here's Let's Fall in Love from three years later in Sweden. Dig the neck muscles under O'Day's chin toward the end of the clip, giving you a fine sense of where her enormous power and control come from...


As Marc has pointed out in previous posts, Anita also hated Bill Holman's arrangements but loved the ones by Jimmy Giuffre. I'm curious as to how she felt about the Gary McFarland or Johnny Mandel albums. An interesting thing about that series is that each of the arrangers seemed to bring out a different side of her talent.
Posted by: David | August 09, 2011 at 12:31 AM
I worked with her for a week at NYC's Blue Note almost 30 years ago, and one night I drove her to her hotel after the gig. I asked her about the album with Gary ("All the Sad Young Men"). All she said was that the band tracks were recorded in NYC, and then the tapes were sent to L.A. and she overdubbed all her vocals. You sure can't tell that from listening. She also said that she didn't even meet Gary until several years later.
Posted by: Bill Kirchner | August 09, 2011 at 09:13 AM
I am not a fan of jazz singers, but O'day got my heart early. As a kid I kept hearing about this movie called 'Jazz on a Summer's Day' (this was pre-video in every house...). I never got a chance to see it until about 20 years ago.
I remember liking the film, digging the music and the verite of it all, when 'the Hat' appeared on stage. From the time she started singing, I was hooked! I was amazed. Still am.
keith
Posted by: keith hedger | August 09, 2011 at 09:58 AM
I like this LP a lot...particularly the version of Little Girl Blue, with the sweeping strings and the verse in the middle. Pure bliss!
Posted by: Robert Gilbert | August 09, 2011 at 10:17 AM
Is it just me, or is there a little Tony Soprano in that picture of Billy May?
Posted by: Dave James | August 09, 2011 at 10:49 AM
Thanks for highlighting AOD, Marc. It's difficult for me to choose a favorite out of all of her work, but this album definitely shines as one of the brightest.
To Bill Kirchner if you read this post - I enjoyed your comments regarding AOD in the Jazz Icon liner notes.
Posted by: Jerri Carmo | August 09, 2011 at 04:32 PM
By the lights O'Day, other singers were just flailing in the dark. She was a firecracker on a lit short fuse, but took her tough broad stance too seriously, too often trying to run roughshod over the guys arranging or playing behind her (sort of "do unto others before they do unto you").
I love listening to her get inventive, go crazy, sing bored... whatever the moment leads to. Who knows, maybe striking all those sparks brought out the best in her. Not even the junk could put her cool, laid back, or on the nod.
Posted by: Ed Leimbacher | August 09, 2011 at 08:37 PM
To add to Bill Kirchner's comments: I drove Anita (and her drum buddy, John Poole) to the airport in Pittsburgh after a week-long stand in '74 or '75, and she described the overdub on the Gary McFarland album as an "electronical geniusal" effort.
She had nothing kind to say about Marty Paich, saying (of their album on Verve), "The producer must have said to him. "Hey kid, you want to write some charts?"." On the other hand, she spoke highly of the Holman album (and the pianist on the date, Jimmy Rowles). In fact, she happily signed my copy of it. And I know, from Holman, that there was talk about a second recording with his big band in the '80s. Instead, though, she did the album with Buddy Bregman. 'Nuff said about that idea....
Ray Hoffman
WCBS Newsradio 880, New York
Posted by: Ray Hoffman | August 10, 2011 at 10:52 AM