Greetings, music sloots and welcome to another edition of Manor Music Monday! Today we have a beautiful-sounding mystery, because unlike so many music performers, past or present, there's virtually nothing to be found out about this one-of-a-kind jazz songstress on the internet - which, no matter your background or era, is pretty hard to do these days. And these days? We really need her.
Yes, we desperately need the dulcet tones from a singer who's been there and back. In fact, we need Cora Lee Day (center in the photo above), a noted actress who had a late-career renaissance in "What's Love Got To Do With It?" and the compelling "Daughter's Of The Dust," for which she should have received an Academy Award (or at least a nomination) (but I digress) (as I'm wont to do). Born in 1914, many claim that she first worked as a model in New York City. This isn't hard to believe, since she was stunning to look at and quite tall. Somehow, she next transitioned into becoming a jazz singer.
For reasons that still confound me, she recorded only one LP, 1960's luscious "My Crying Hour." The album was released on Roulette Records, which had scary ties to New York City mobsters, including Vincent “The Chin” Gigante and Morris Levy. In other words, it was basically a money laundering front for the Genovese crime family, who were loath to pay royalties to any of their artists. Luckily, as far as we know, Cora emerged unscathed.
On her LP, her delivery on standards like "Trouble Is A Man" and "When Your Lover Has Is Gone" is deceptively gentle, yet steeled with mournful unease. Her style is less about vocal fireworks and more about nuance and a deeply felt connection to the songs she performs. This is a singer you can really feel. Unsurprisingly, her album is cherished by jazz aficionados. Give a listen below and you'll understand why, I promise.
What are you listening to this week? DJ Li'l Scratch wants to know. Till next time...purr, bitches, purr! 🐾
Trump Idiot Paste Up Photograph by Freegar Net (Mexico) Political fatigue is not maturity; it’s surrender disguised as self-care. It can feel self-protective. Necessary. The current political and cultural landscape looks like a dystopian hellscape, complete with viciousness, impossible atmospheric heat, and a never-ending despair loop with no discernible end. It is no wonder that this stance, political fatigue, has become an accepted contemporary emotional posture. We are told, constantly, soothingly, that disengagement is a wise choice. That tuning out is a healthy form of mental health regulation. They tell us that the real danger is paying too much attention. Look away, they encourage. Save yourself. Really. This framing flatters people who yearn to feel evolved, float above the fray, while opting out of responsibility. It is precisely what authoritarian politics feed on. It is the essential ingredient that this dynamic needs to thrive. It requires that the very people who have...
Cancel one thing that you have decided never needs to happen. Eat something warm and delicious at least once a day. Use lamps all week. Overhead lighting is aggressive. Don’t make any major life decisions before noon, and it doesn't even have to be in your time zone. Wear the softest clothes, even if no one sees you. Let emails sit. Nothing important happens this week. Drink water like it’s part of the new you. May as well start off hydrated. Rewatch something comforting instead of watching something new and laborious. Clean in 10-minute segments at a time, and then decide whether to continue. Go to bed early at least once without announcing it. Ignore productivity advice entirely. Take a walk without tracking it, even 5 minutes counts. Let the week be awkward. It always is. January is a suggestion, not a mandate. Choose simple food over impressive food. Avoid conversations that start with “So this year I’m going to…” Buy nothing except food, comfort, and things that make yo...
That was a TRAVESTY! And Jerry Lewis as emcee? He was even worse than Bob Hope usually is . Oh well, no point in crying over spilled half and half. C'mon, hop inside my parents' new 1956 Mercury (it's painted in "2-Tone" colors!) and we can swing by the drive-thru and get a couple chocolate malts and split an order of onion rings while we watch Ed Sullivan. The Five Satins are going to be on, and we can watch and chat and laugh about whatever's going on in our lives at school or at work, just like an Open Post or something! Photo Credit: AK
Comments
Post a Comment