OPEN POST: Manor Music Monday With The Magical Mary Stallings!
Welcome, music sloots to another edition of Manor Music Monday, today by way of a San Francisco gal with incredible talent and understated class, a combo we don't see much in performers these days of any ilk, if at all. Better still, she's still truckin' at age 86. And though it's wintertime, her music will bring back summer. Just listen and you'll feel the heat, the light humidity, a chill band and her freshly reviving voice. Also, San Francisco must have something in the water, because so many terrific jazz vocalists seem to hail from there. It can't be a coincidence.
Case in point, Mary Stallings, born in 1939 in the city, the middle child of 11 siblings. Get this: she's also the niece of saxophonist Orlando Stallings, who introduced her to jazz when she was just a wee one after overhearing her scatting to Dizzy Gillespie's "Oop-Bop-Sh'bam." She performed briefly with Uncle Orlando's band and with her church, and while she was still a teenager, started booking high profile nightclub gigs, including a run with Louis Jordan's band at the 53 Club in Oakland, along with a stint at the legendary comic and music club, Purple Onion, where she opened for Lenny Bruce, Shecky Greene and Don Rickles.
Incredibly, though she found new fame and was on the road constantly - including an international tour with Count Bassie, whom she reunited with many times - she wouldn't make another album till 1991. She went into semi-retirement in the mid-1970s to raise her daughter, future R&B star, Adriana Evans, and periodically worked in fashion design to pay the bills. But she couldn't resist the siren call for long; she made a full return to music in the late-1980s. If you can believe it, and I still can't, she really didn't break through to mass-market jazz audiences until the 1990s, which is a bit of a mystery (and a crime). But better late than never, right?
You'll understand why I think it's a crime when you listen to her 1997 LP, "Manhattan Moods," which is one of the most satisfying jazz vocal albums I've ever heard. And I know, that sounds hyperbolic, but there's something about the champagne lightness of her tone - it's like an impossible high-wire act performed without a blink or a hair being mussed out of place. She reaches her zenith, I think, in her version of "You Go To My Head," stretching out her notes like the most delicious, buttery taffy. It rarely gets better than this.
Till next time...purr, bitches, purr! 🐾
Photo Credits: Getty Images; Concord Records



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