Right now, you join The Leopard Lounge
at ‘77 Sunset Strip’. Warren Barker turns the neon
on for the theme to the show, and creates a mood for its swingin’
PI’s to eyeball the lowlife, the moochers and the hoods in their
hot Hollywood surrounds. The mean streets have never sounded so cool.
So to turn up the heat, Ann Richards slinks back centre stage
with her sultry version of ‘Yes Sir, That’s My Baby’.
This tune had last sizzled through the atmosphere in 1925, and Ann
summons the illicit pleasures of the Charleston age with the help
of Jack Sheldon’s slinky trumpet and Barney Kessel’s immaculate
guitar. Ooee, what a dame.
More sensuous pleasures abound in Don Ralke’s Afro-tastic
‘Face Beside The Fire’, in which the percussion maestro
assembled the greatest beat niks of his time to create an eerie black
magic vibe. You’re digging softly-softly tom toms, three unison
flutes and the shakin’ hiss of the bead-covered gourd –
music to snake-dance by.
Now there’s a Special Agent in the house, ‘Our Mann Flint’.
Herbie Mann scored the title track for this stylish James Coburn
flick and gave him a theme worthy of any international man of mystery.
Flautist Herbie melded a definite Afro-Cuban sway into this edgy thriller,
mixing mystery and glamour into one highball glass of cool.
Ella Fitzgerald was also in a Latino mood when she recorded
the Jorge Ben classic ‘Mas Que Nada’ for the Things Ain’t
What They Used To Be album in 1971. Sway with Ella now and click those
stilettos like maracas on the dancefloor, ‘cos this Goddess
is calling the tune.
With the immortal ‘Pata Pata’, South African enchantress
Miriam Makeba held the world in her spell in 1972. This is,
she explains, the dance they do down Johannesburg way, and it won’t
take you a hot second to get the hang of it. Teasing, tangy and wild
is the flavour, and it lasts until the sun comes up.
The Soul Of The Drums was what Les Baxter was mining on his
1963 album, and for that he assembled percussionists from Haiti, Cuba,
Brazil and Africa, playing instruments both ancient and contemporary.
‘Coffee Bean And Calabash Annie’ is, as you’d expect
from the title, one hot cup of java.
The next cut is a sublime collaboration between Mel Tormé
and Shorty Rogers’ orchestra, cooked up in July 1962 and first
appearing on the Comin’ Home Baby! album in that year. The “Velvet
Fog” takes on this lyrically dexterous Oscar Brown, Jr. number
with supreme confidence and grace, while Shorty’s band get into
a Quincy Jones-inspired groove. Funk and glide, daddio, funk and glide.
Marty Paich was also bringing on the funk when he tackled
Lalo Schiffrin’s ‘The Cat’ in 1965, a track that
had been heavily hammonised by Jimmy Smith now found itself brassed
up and rocked out as part of Marty’s fiendishly good Rock-Jazz
Incident. As y’all know, everybody wants to be a cat.
It’s time to slow things down now and take a long, cool, dip
in the blues. LaVern Baker paid tribute to the immortal Bessie
Smith with this majestic version of ‘Nobody Knows You When You’re
Down And Out’, bringing some stark 1920s truths into a moody
1958 setting. This is a real Harlem nocturne for you to ponder on
and LaVern gives it her all.
In a similar, smoky style, Esther Phillips weaves her spell
over Cole Porter’s New York state of mind. Duke
Ellington’s diamond sharp version of ‘Moon River’
evokes dawn breaking over the Hudson River as you gaze into that dazzling
window of Tiffany’s. The swing’s the thing here, and Duke
and his arranger Billy Strayhorn do it as effortlessly as the great
river flows. “Jazz,” said the late, great Ray
Charles, “was always on my mind.” And nobody does
it better than he, as this 1957 cut ‘Doodlin’’ proves
so well. Up until the album it comes from, The Great Ray Charles,
he had been known primarily for his blues and R&B, but at Atlantic
boss Nesuhi Ertegun’s instigation, Ray got in the studio to
prove his chops on a jazz-only session. And as the man said: “All
my cats were jazzmen first.” Dig the sublime subtlety in Ray’s
finger tips as he stirs up this late nite brew, genius through and
through..
When Ada Lee comes on, she comes on strong! Prepare to fall
into a deep swoon when she sings ‘I Wish You Love’. This
track is taken from her sublime debut Ada Lee Comes On!, where the
sultry songstress used every inch of her prowess as a classical, gospel
and blues singer to create the most elegant of sounds. Her arranger,
Dick Hyman, lets the shivering strings and subtle percussion frame
that perfect pitch, and Ada glides like a swan.
The night time is the right time for a dance with our next artiste
Carol Stevens, who manages to sound both suggestive and tough
on ‘Romance In The Dark’. Here was a gal who could breathe
new life into any old tune – and she could probably make a dead
man twitch back to life with this knowing little number.
And now it’s back to the beach, and The Wonderful World of Antonio
Carlos Jobim. Taken from that elpee, ‘Aqua De Beber’
is Antonio at his most carefree, luring you into a wonderworld where
flutes play lightly across a sheen of samba percussion like light
dancing over the waves. This is the very stuff that had him crowned
as the Samba King.
When Henry Mancini heard that guitar maestro Barney Kessel
was thinking of recording the Breakfast At Tiffany’s score,
he immediately gave him the film orchestrations on which to work his
own interpretations, and one of those numbers is ‘Something
For Cat’, which finds Barney purring away on bass, evoking happiness
for all concerned.
The ultramodernist of her age, Chris Connor astounds with her
poise on the Gershwin classic ‘They All Laughed’. Always
unafraid to experiment with her vocal range, Chris sounds so damn
cool on this 1956 cut you would swear she was made out of ice, but
for that knowing wink in her voice. Even the Chairman of the Board
himself woulda tilted his trilby hat to this one.
And now cats and kittens, as our night on the tiles heads towards
its climax, who better than Bobby Darin to turn up the heat
for a dizzyin’ ride though ‘That’s All’. Like
a jitterbug loose in a pepper factory, this joint is jumpin’
– and Bobby’s dazzlin’.
But that ain’t all, moochers and minxes. There’s one last
number we want to share with you and it’s one loooong, loooong
fadeout to Shelly Manne’s extraordinary take on ‘Peter
Gunn’. You ain’t never heard Mancini’s signature
tune done like this before: slowed to a burning bass rumble that climbs
towards its destination just as the sun claws its way back over the
rooftops and the alley cats call it a night.
We hope you have enjoyed this evening with us in The Leopard Lounge
– and don’t forget to make a date for next time. Plant
you know, dig you later… CATHI UNSWORTH |