Ronstadt/Riddle collaboration

[rick]

www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2012/02/paul_mccartney_s_kisses_on_the_bottom_and_the_problem_with_great_american_songbook_albums_.html

Slate Magazine

Standard Issue

Why do Great American Songbook albums by pop artists so often disappoint?

By Jeff Turrentine


The latest album by Paul McCartney, a collection of pop standards by the likes of Harold Arlen, Irving Berlin, Johnny Mercer, and Frank Loesser, was released three weeks ago today to generally positive reviews. In the New York Times, critic Stephen Holden went through two purple ink cartridges as he described how the album "floats over you like a light mist on a cool spring morning in an English garden as the sun glints through the haze. You want to inhale the fresh air, taste the fragrance of buds blooming, as the sky clears to a serene deep blue." In Rolling Stone, a somewhat more measured Will Hermes said of Kisses on the Bottom (the title is lifted from the lyrics to the Fats Waller song that opens the record) that it is "the sound of a musician joyfully tapping his roots ... it's fun, and touching, to hear [McCartney] crooning his way through the great American songbook."

Kisses on the Bottom is McCartney's 16th solo album, and the first to be composed almost entirely of songs written by others. By choosing material from the great American songbook, McCartney joins a group of 1960s and '70s pop singers who have discovered just how rewarding—musically, critically and commercially—this particular sentimental journey can be. Rod Stewart, Carly Simon, Natalie Cole, and Linda Ronstadt have recorded, between them, no fewer than a dozen such albums. For each of the singers, these releases have served as well-timed career-resuscitators, allowing the aging artists—whose hit-making days have, for the most part, long since passed—to earn platinum sales and sell out giant arenas.

In interviews and press releases, these artists invariably describe having “grown up” with this music; often they hint at an innocent youth spent in some prelapsarian Tin Pan Eden, where they learned these songs at their daddy's knee before getting older and guiltily partaking of the rock-and-roll apple. But there's another, more self-serving reason that a particular type of superannuated rocker likes to put out an album of standards. These songs—penned by Cole Porter, the Gershwins, Rodgers & Hart (or Hammerstein) to name just a few of their most famous composers—represent the sturdy foundation on which all popular music is based. If you're a pop singer or songwriter concerned about your legacy, linking yourself to the great American songbook confers a kind of late-stage artisanal legitimacy onto your entire career. It shows that you, too, have always possessed a deep and sophisticated understanding of authentic songcraft. If you're worried that the world may remember you primarily for wearing Spandex pants and snarling "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?," what better penance than to croon "Isn't It Romantic?" in a rakish coat and tie, carried along by a lush string section?

With few exceptions, however, these albums of standards by pop superstars d'un certain âge fall flat. I confess that even the McCartney album, pace Holden, leaves me shrugging my shoulders and wondering if it was really worth all the trouble. Why is this? The source material is unquestionably superb. (McCartney, to his great credit, has chosen to cover several lesser-known songs that would fly right under the radar of a Stewart or a Simon, who tend to go straight for the crowd-pleasers.) No one would deny that the artists themselves have real talent. So: good songs, good singers—where do things go wrong?

The answer, I think, is in the over-reverent and/or unimaginative way in which the songs themselves are typically approached. The queen of songbook revivalism, Linda Ronstadt, deserves enormous credit for convincing her manager and record label to let her record What's New (1983), the first of three standards albums she released consecutively during the 1980s. At the time, Ronstadt was still arguably a hit-maker in the pop/soft-rock vein, and by aligning herself with pre-rock-era music she was taking something of a risk. That risk paid off commercially and critically: The albums did extraordinarily well by any measure, and went a long way toward sparking a new interest in jazz and swing among listeners who'd previously thought of these songs as someone else's (i.e, their parents', or grandparents').

But listen to the albums today, even with their wonderful Nelson Riddle arrangements, and one is struck by the anodyne safeness of these numbers, their meticulous fealty to an abstracted, supper-club definition of "good taste." These are fetishistic period pieces, not interpretations. And as such they call into question the whole purpose of covering a "standard" in the first place. Jazz greats, including vocalists, have always understood that a standard is simply a vessel into which an artist pours her unique essence. Think John Coltrane's hypnotic, inimitable version of "My Favorite Things," or Bill Evans' glistening "What Is This Thing Called Love?," or Sarah Vaughan's jaw-droppingly gorgeous "Embraceable You"—a marriage of singer and song so divinely blessed that it was recorded in one single, miraculous take. These artists weren't paying homage to any person or era. They were being themselves—utterly and magnificently.

Compare these recordings to practically any song taken at random from Rod Stewart's ever-metastasizing catalog of standards, now hurtling inexorably toward its sixth CD. Over artless cruise-ship arrangements, Stewart attempts to capture some of Sinatra's loose-tied, fedora-hatted magic from the mid-1950s, but doesn't even come close. Like his musical accompaniment, his vocals are phoned in, which means that the songs—many of which were written using a double-entendre-heavy "code," of which Cole Porter was the undisputed master—are all but stripped of their wit and subtext, their musical and lyrical richness streamlined into bland, repetitive sonic wallpaper. Which is almost certainly the point of this decade-long exercise: Ultimately, Stewart's songbook is a five-album soundtrack for a night of sixtysomething romance, music meant to be played at a low volume while cologned and Viagara-ed husbands pour Champagne and prepare dinner for their beloveds.

But when a rock-era pop star is willing to take some chances, magical things can happen. One of the earliest examples of the songbook revival genre, Harry Nilsson's A Little Touch of Schmilsson in the Night, still has the power to astound nearly 40 years after its release. Arranged by the legendary Gordon Jenkins—who had worked, in his prime, with Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Judy Garland, among many others—the album is constructed as a moody song cycle that capitalizes on the weird disconnect between Jenkins' soaring orchestration and Nilsson's broken, halting vocals. Another idiosyncratic vocalist, Rickie Lee Jones, managed to infuse old standards with new mystery and melancholy in her inexcusably overlooked gem, Pop Pop, from 1991.

Eight years later, with his album As Time Goes By, Roxy Music frontman Bryan Ferry rather effortlessly did what Rod Stewart only thinks he's been doing for the last 10 years, which is to say he translated his louche persona into a performance that the swinging, lady-killing Sinatra of the 1950s would have recognized and admired. The next year saw the release of Joni Mitchell's haunting Both Sides Now, which marked a kind of turning point for the artist, formalizing the completion of her metamorphosis from guitar-strumming coffeehouse chanteuse to dark jazz prophetess. She hovers over the whole affair like some mystical cross between Cassandra and Nina Simone.

Kisses On The Bottom, like just about everything else Paul McCartney has ever done, is marked by a game, high-spirited optimism that's pretty hard to hate. A few of the songs on it—like his lilting and graceful "More I Cannot Wish You," from Frank Loesser's Guys and Dolls—are truly beautiful, offering ample proof that Macca's own remarkable body of work is as firmly rooted in classic, pre-rock pop as it is in Little Richard and everything that came afterward. But even he can't escape the curse that befalls so many of these respectful, well-intentioned projects. It's the curse of pleasantness, of innocuousness, of valedictory tribute. It threatens to turn the best songs ever written into easily forgettable ditties. Thankfully, these songs are also the most durable—they're "standards," after all—and will always be a good deal stronger than their weakest renditions. They can't take that away from us.

[fabtastique]

I disagree - Linda's three albums with Riddle are timeless and classic, I play them weekly still. I think the reviewer has missed the point of Linda's work on these albums - by seeking out Nelson and using at times the original arrangements he wrote there was no attempt to change, renew or "cover" but to recognise their brilliance. What's wrong with an intimate supper club feel? Id rather that than anything by Rod Stewart!

[Richard W]

While I give the writer kudos for recognizing that Linda's albums were risky and not an attempt at career revival, I agree that he misses the point of them. In my opinion, what Linda was doing was not only reviving the then-overlooked brilliance of the neglected songs themselves, but vocally "resetting" them -- after decades of tinkering and noodling and warping by countless jazz singers -- back to the composers' original conceptions. I mean, some of these songs had become so warped by "original" interpretations that it was a revelation to hear their melodic origins.

To say nothing of how these songs benefitted from the color, power, emotion and the sheer splendor of Linda's voice. Doesn't that count for anything?

And I agree with fabtastique that Linda's respectful approach to these songs is preferable to, say, Stewart's exploitation of them or, to my ear, countless other jazz singers' melodic distortions.

[erik]

Playing Devils Advocate here, I think there has always been a large amount of debate and controversy about rock-era singers doing these songs of the jazz and Great American Songbook eras. And while Linda wasn't exactly the first to do it, the massive commercial success of What's New, for better or worse, led to this onslaught of standards being done by singers more associated with the rock era. She deserves credit for having bought these songs into the modern world, but, in the eyes of many cynics, she probably also shoulders a lot of the blame for having overexposed them so that everybody and his grandmother has to do albums of standards.

[Richard W]

What I find interesting is that the tunes in the Great American Songbook, largely appropriated by jazz artists, were originally pop songs.

What Linda and Nelson did was return them to their original pop roots.

[sliderocker]

Mar 1, 2012 10:50:52 GMT -5 erik said:

Playing Devils Advocate here, I think there has always been a large amount of debate and controversy about rock-era singers doing these songs of the jazz and Great American Songbook eras. And while Linda wasn't exactly the first to do it, the massive commercial success of What's New, for better or worse, led to this onslaught of standards being done by singers more associated with the rock era. She deserves credit for having bought these songs into the modern world, but, in the eyes of many cynics, she probably also shoulders a lot of the blame for having overexposed them so that everybody and his grandmother has to do albums of standards.

I can see where there might be some controversy about Rod Stewart doing the "Great American Songbook," but I figure that for someone like Barry Manilow who has mined the same songbook, that would've been more like his natural home. The irony is that Stewart and Manilow are on the same record label and the idea for both covering songs from the "Great American Songbook" originated with Clive Davis, the head of their record label. Would either have done it on their own without his input? I don't know.

Linda was different in that respect in that she chose to record an album of standards without any influence from her record company. She also differed from Stewart and Manilow in that she didn't keep going back over and over, trying to keep a good thing going. She returned to her rock, pop and country roots whereas Davis has kept Stewart and Manilow on that same G.A.S. road. It probably doesn't bother Manilow but I have to wonder if Stewart wouldn't rather try something different by this point?

[Richard W]

It seems to me that the Linda/Nelson collaborations were an artistic statement, a labor of love and respect, not crass commercial exploitation like Stewart's. The fact that Linda's albums were a commercial success was after the fact of their creation (particularly with her initial foray, What's New). No one predicted their monetary success; in fact, everyone predicted failure. Still, she and he made their creations.

Had What's New bombed commercially, perhaps it, and the subsequent albums (had their been any), might be regarded as pop masterpieces by the cynics who feel compelled now to dismiss them -- "overlooked gems" rather than "retrograde career boosters."

[erik]

Quote by sliderocker:

Linda was different in that respect in that she chose to record an album of standards without any influence from her record company.

In fact, both Asylum and Peter Asher were highly unsure that this gambit was even going to work. Carly Simon's Torch, released in 1981, had sold 300,000 copies, which, when compared to the albums that came before it, rendered it a commercial bust. Linda was pretty much putting a decade's worth of good will from her record company on the line by doing this; and even though it paid off in spades, even Linda herself acknowledged later on that it was a huge risk to do even once, let alone two further times (with Riddle) and then going back, this time with a smaller jazz group, on 2004's Hummin' To Myself (for Verve).

[profstadt]

I think this is a pretty decent, thoughtful review. I agree with his assessment that "With few exceptions, however, these albums of standards by pop superstars d'un certain âge fall flat." And after a couple of re-reads, I'm beginning to think he meant to hold out Linda's work as one of those exceptions.

I love nearly all of the tracks of the three Nelson Riddle albums. In those instances when I was able to hear the "originals," I've found that Linda's rendition compares very well. In some cases she arguably exceeds the original. Yes, they tend to capture the feel and style of the era from which the music was drawn, and she even dresses the role. In that sense they may be considered "safe," but in many cases I can clearly hear (feel) how Linda has put herself into these songs and made them her own.

[rick]

Went back to read the reader comments in the section below the original Slate article --

www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2012/02/paul_mccartney_s_kisses_on_the_bottom_and_the_problem_with_great_american_songbook_albums_.html

As far as the article's author, I think he says they were critical and commercial successes at the time and gives Linda props for "taking the risk," but now he is asking readers to look at the three Riddle albums in a revisionist way.
He writes:
" But listen to the albums today, even with their wonderful Nelson Riddle arrangements, and one is struck by the anodyne safeness of these numbers, their meticulous fealty to an abstracted, supper-club definition of "good taste." These are fetishistic period pieces, not interpretations. And as such they call into question the whole purpose of covering a "standard" in the first place. Jazz greats, including vocalists, have always understood that a standard is simply a vessel into which an artist pours her unique essence. Think John Coltrane's hypnotic, inimitable version of "My Favorite Things," or Bill Evans' glistening "What Is This Thing Called Love?," or Sarah Vaughan's jaw-droppingly gorgeous "Embraceable You"—a marriage of singer and song so divinely blessed that it was recorded in one single, miraculous take. These artists weren't paying homage to any person or era. They were being themselves—utterly and magnificently."

I believe Linda said she wanted to make these records because they were/are such great songs and she was tired of them just being heard as "elevator music."
As far as what others have pointed out about Rod Stewart turning to the standards as a career move to refashion himself as an aging crooner, Linda's burning desire to make these albums was risky at the time. It is interesting to me that the author of the Slate article felt he had to throw in that she was "still arguably a hit-maker" (meaning that one could also make the argument that she was no longer a hit-maker, i.e. popular). As much as I enjoy Carly Simon's attempt with "Torch," she didn't set the world on fire with that album (no pun intended). And it is not in the same league as Linda's collaboration with Nelson Riddle. Linda held these songs in high esteem and that's why she didn't release her first attempt -- it didn't feel right to her. We here on the board have discussed over the years our appreciation or lack thereof of the aborted "Keepin' Out of Mischief" sessions, but I think Linda was right to hold out for Nelson Riddle. She was in a position with her record label where she was able to get them to go along with her on this journey. It still makes me chuckle to remember when Linda appeared on Marian McPartland's "Piano Jazz" radio program and Linda discussed her desire to make an album of standards. I believe Linda says to the effect of her record company told her, "Why don't you throw your career away with both hands?" And then Linda said, "I'm good at that," which, again, is Linda being incredibly humble and self-effacing because she has great musical instincts.
I agree with RichWar in regards to his reading of the Slate author's verdict in favor of jazz interpretations. When someone from the jazz idiom, say Bill Evans or John Coltrane or Sarah Vaughan does their "riff" on a standard, it weaves and bobs and goes all over the place and doesn't often have a lot to do with the notes that the composer wrote. This author calls that "fealty." I believe if Linda were to respond to this article she would say that she and Nelson Riddle were trying to get people to listen to these great songs. The fact that Linda introduced legions to open their ears and minds to these great songs is a testament to her success in this genre.

[erik]

Quote by rick:

As far as what others have pointed out about Rod Stewart turning to the standards as a career move to refashion himself as an aging crooner, Linda's burning desire to make these albums was risky at the time. It is interesting to me that the author of the Slate article felt he had to throw in that she was "still arguably a hit-maker" (meaning that one could also make the argument that she was no longer a hit-maker, i.e. popular).

He must have thought that Get Closer was a bomb (while it may not have been a runaway hit, it did sell 900,000 copies in its first year, and eventually went Platinum).

I have to confess I had a difficult time at first really accepting those three albums of standards that Linda did in the 80s, until I started wondering whether it was legitimate to connect the standards of the 40s and 50s to the modern rock and pop ballads that came later, as a kind of passing the torch, so to speak, to a different generation. It seemed the best way for fans not immersed in pre-rock standards to get into that kind of music.

However, I never got into Rod Stewart trying to be a faux-Sinatra "schwinger", and not simply because he isn't even an American. His voice just isn't cut out for it. Truth be told, I turn the radio to another station any time anything of his comes on now; I just can't listen to the guy.

[Dianna]

while I don't think Rod's interpretation of the Great American Songbook is horrible but I know what you guys mean ,he kind of reminds me that singer who had a hit in the 70's (Oh babe what would you say) Hurricane Smith, which I thought was kind of cool considering Big Band type pop songs were not the norm during the 70's especially . I do like his 70's classic stuff and of course, i.e Wear it well and Hot Legs is a fun song. I think like somebody here said, Linda had a real respect for those songs, so it's an authentic labor of love.. with Rod, it's like he sold out just to please the older crowd of grew up with his fans... but it's like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.

[Robert Morse]

Still finding the categorizatin of singers by genre to be slightly silly. A singer should be free to sing what she wants to. Gershwin is just as relevant today as he was in the past. it's a great big musical playgorund and people, artists included, should be free to explore.

[erik]

Quote by rob:

Still finding the categorizatin of singers by genre to be slightly silly. A singer should be free to sing what she wants to. Gershwin is just as relevant today as he was in the past. it's a great big musical playgorund and people, artists included, should be free to explore.

I wholeheartedly agree, of course. Unfortunately, that playground is run by people who like to put things into nice, neat little boxes.

[Robert Morse]

I agree Eric. Maybe it's time for new playground monitors ;D ;D

[profstadt]

Mar 2, 2012 15:43:18 GMT -5 Robert Morse said:

Still finding the categorizatin of singers by genre to be slightly silly. A singer should be free to sing what she wants to. Gershwin is just as relevant today as he was in the past. it's a great big musical playgorund and people, artists included, should be free to explore.

Who could disagree with that? Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that every singer can sing Gershwin or other possible genre competently.

[erik]

Quote by rob:

I agree Eric. Maybe it's time for new playground monitors ;D ;D

More so than ever. It really ought to be left up to the people who actually play the music on the radio...and I mean real people, not some corporate bean counters, cold-blooded focus groups, or brain-dead viewers who think the contestants on The Voice, X Factor, or American Idol are the epitome of makers of great music of our time.

Will we ever get back to that? Only if people scream for it (IMHO).

[sliderocker]

Mar 4, 2012 14:19:54 GMT -5 erik said:

Quote by rob:

I agree Eric. Maybe it's time for new playground monitors ;D ;D

More so than ever. It really ought to be left up to the people who actually play the music on the radio...and I mean real people, not some corporate bean counters, cold-blooded focus groups, or brain-dead viewers who think the contestants on The Voice, X Factor, or American Idol are the epitome of makers of great music of our time.

Will we ever get back to that? Only if people scream for it (IMHO).

In order for something like that to happen, you'll have to have the FCC and the federal government start limiting again the number of radio and TV stations corporations can own. They narrowcast because they want you tuning in so they will appeal to the greatest number of people through limiting the number of songs you'll hear on the radio. I've got doubts anything will seriously change from the way things are run now as the monster corporations aren't going to let their tenticles (billions of dollars) be cut off without a fight.

[rick]

Mar 2, 2012 15:43:18 GMT -5 Robert Morse said:

Still finding the categorizatin of singers by genre to be slightly silly. A singer should be free to sing what she wants to. Gershwin is just as relevant today as he was in the past. it's a great big musical playgorund and people, artists included, should be free to explore.

Rob, I agree that people/artists should be free to experiment. However, getting back to the springboard for the Slate author's article mentioning Linda Ronstadt, it was brought about by the release of Paul McCartney's "Kisses on the Bottom." This then allowed the author to go on to try to a larger view about artists who had become popular with or known for a certain kind of music and then delved into the standards.
IMHO, the author gives with one hand and takes away with the other. At first, he seems to give all of the historical background for where Linda was at the time and then states that Linda's foray was an artistic and commercial success. AND THEN, he wants to put on the glasses of someone in the year 2012 and go back 29 years and say how unsuccessful Linda's attempts were artistically.
I take that as the bigger point for why this is here in this discussion. Not the genre aspect. The author just uses that to lump McCartney, Linda and Rod Stewart in the same pile.
I also find it snide that the author has this air of disbelief that the artists try to foist on us, the public, the notion that they grew up with these songs and were always in love with them. I feel he couches that as if the artists are making that up. I have no reason to doubt that Paul McCartney was weaned on these songs. I truly believe that Linda was raised with this music and all kinds of music growing up.

As for the genre question -- yes, in a perfect world, artists would be freer to experiment with other genres without fear of being pigeon-holed. I think Tony Bennett often credits Duke Ellington with having said: "There are only two types of music -- 'good' and 'bad.' "
I was watching a PBS special last week about Cab Colloway. Toward the end of the program, the director John Landis was interviewed about Cab Calloway's role in "The Blues Brothers." And he said that he assumed that when Landis asked him Cab to perform "Minnie the Moocher" in "The Blues Brothers" that he was to record and perform the DISCO version of the song because that was what Cab was promoting at the time (wasn't everybody?). At the same time, Ethel Merman released her disco album to try to capitalize on the sound of the time.
We have often talked on here about how disco was really something Linda never attempted (or at least, that we know of). It might have been fun if she had, but I don't think it appealed to her.
Back to my point, however, the biggest issue I had with the Slate article was the author's revisionist history.

[erik]

Quotes by rick:

We have often talked on here about how disco was really something Linda never attempted (or at least, that we know of). It might have been fun if she had, but I don't think it appealed to her.

With respect to disco, I think Linda may have arguably flirted with it on "You're No Good" and "All That You Dream', but only very loosely, and perhaps unwittingly. It wasn't her musical style (given her appreciation for the gay subculture that helped form it, though, I don't think she was a "Disco Sucks" freak either).

Back to my point, however, the biggest issue I had with the Slate article was the author's revisionist history.

I agree with you, Rick. To add to that, it almost seems to me that there has been a movement afoot by people like this author to revise history and make Linda an insignificant player in everything she ever did, even in a musical arena, country-rock, where she was unquestionably a pioneer in the eyes of those who were actually there. Stuff like this just drives me up the wall.

[musicaamator]

Please forgive me if this has been discussed already, but as a newbie I am now just finding out how great Linda is and the vastness (word?) of her catalog/discography. I am just amazed at the great songs and albums she's recorded but must admit I am a little tepid about her work with Nelson Riddle. I admire her for doing such a courageous thing, especially where she was in her career, but as much as I respect it, I sadly admit, it's not my favourite period. Certain songs are nice--What's New, I've Got A Crush On You, Skylark, When You Wish Upon A Star--but if I was given a choice between Heart Like A Wheel or Lush Life, there would be no doubt as to what I would choose.

So, I am just curious, long time Linda fans, how did you feel about this period in her career? Were you thrilled about this new adventure she took? Did you like it right away? Do you still listen to these albums?

[Deleted]

It took me awhile to appreciate these albums, but it was more of a matter of getting used to the genre.. I think she did a great job as did Nelson, and it took lots of courage for her to make this change... I do prefer her later foray 'Humming to Myself, not only because she is more comfortable with this format, but also because of the 'small jazz combo' arrangement. I particularly think that her 'Cry Me a River' ranks among her best ballads ever.. BTW I like your avatar.. from the cover of Greatest Hits II, no?

[the Scribe]

I like it. I was rather tired of Rock by then and this was a nice break. Linda was able to take her voice to new heights. Like all of her albums I like some songs more than others. All of the songs were well written and meant to showcase the singer. Lesser singers may not want that kind of attention or scrutiny. Her Nelson Riddle Sessions stood out as an oasis amongst an otherwise terrible decade of music...80's.....

[erik]

I think at the time (early fall 1983) that there was unquestionably some uneasiness at what Linda was doing. It wasn't like her career had suddenly gone into freefall just because Get Closer didn't shoot through the roof and go Platinum instantly. Many in the rock press really felt a great deal of betrayal at this about-face of hers towards the pre-rock Great American Songbook. Take it the way you will, but facts are facts.

I too felt a fair amount of uneasiness at her doing these albums for a very long time. In the end, though, I have tended to feel that what she was doing was attempting not only to resurrect that era's great songs at a time when MTV was going gangbusters, and this new freak of nature called Madonna had just burst onto the scene, but also to make a connection between the similarities of that era's song craft (Gershwin; Irving Berlin, etc.) and the song craft of the rock era. Like Robert, though, I think she did it even better on Hummin' To Myself.

It should also be noted that Glenn Frey's recent Great American Songbook excursion After Hours was, by his own admission, very much inspired by Linda's ventures into the form.

[Partridge]

I like all those albums, with For Sentimental Reasons being my favorite.

I think Linda placed too much emphasis on them in the later part of her career, to the exclusion of music the fans would rather have heard. Really, performing orchestral songs at a rock festival in Hawaii!! Was she trying to drive the fans away??!!

She ran this music into the ground, while excluding her own classic songs like Different Drum and Long Long Time from her repertoire.

[profstadt]

The more I heard them, the more I liked them. Perhaps, like ronstadtfanaz, I was ready for them. At least a half-dozen reside permanently in my personal set list.

Partridge makes a point about her running this music into the ground, while excluding her classic songs. Well, I wouldn't single out the Nelson songs here. Rather, Linda seemed to have abandonned all of her earlier "classic songs" (and even speak disparagingly of that part of her career) in favor of not only the Nelson music, but also the Spanish-language music and other ventures. This point has been discussed at various times in the earlier versions of the forum. Some have expressed disappointment and even bitterness at her seeming to have abandonned the very music which made them fans in the first place.

[philly]

I remember I was driving around when I heard on the radio, about Linda's venture into what I thought of as "fuddy-duddy" music. I'm thinking at first, like most folks, WTF? I had no idea how successful it would become, so I'm wondering why she would waste time on music whose time was long past. I couldn't understand it, didn't know she even liked that archaic music, but my confusion quickly changed to admiration. How many artists claim they don't do it for the money? Well, she certainly wasn't doing this for the money, though, as I said, no one foresaw their success.

[fabtastique]

They are fantastic and her voice is stellar in this period. And who can't love those songs and arrangements?

[erik]

Quote by philly:

How many artists claim they don't do it for the money? Well, she certainly wasn't doing this for the money, though, as I said, no one foresaw their success.

As Linda has said on a number of occasions, money isn't really the deciding factor on when she wants to do something, though to many it may have seemed like she was committing artistic suicide by making even one Great American Sogbook album, let alone three, during the rise of MTV.

[rick]

Jan 26, 2013 3:06:19 GMT -5 philly said:

I remember I was driving around when I heard on the radio, about Linda's venture into what I thought of as "fuddy-duddy" music. I'm thinking at first, like most folks, WTF?

Philly, speaking as one of the older members of the board, I guess I was 26 when "What's New?" was released.
My Dad was a big Frank Sinatra fan and we had the vinyl album of his album "Only the Lonely" and I remember my Dad playing it. Of course, I also knew the name of Nelson Riddle from his work with Sinatra and with Rosemary Clooney and he even did the orchestrations for Barbra Streisand's film musical of "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever."
Also, I knew that Linda had recorded "When I Grow Too Old To Dream" on "Living in the USA" so I was aware of her interest in older songs/standards.
I had been living in Boston when Linda was appearing on Broadway in "Pirates of Penzance" and went down to see her in it. I remember how everybody talked about what a departure that was for Linda.
When I moved back to Los Angeles in 1981, I was dating this guy who was in A&R. I knew the relationship was doomed when he said these words: "Linda Ronstadt is the stupidest person." I knew that was not true. He said that she was throwing away her career and that she should keep on making "the same popular albums." I am sure Linda was already at work on "Keepin Out of Mischief Now," the failed attempt at standards and that the suits were not happy that she was dong this. I am glad she had the autonomy and freedom by this time in her career that she could decide what to record.
When "What's New?" was released I was in grad school in D.C. and got the cassette and played it on my then Sony Walkman as I walked to and from school every day.
For me, when I love an artist, such as Linda, a lot it is based on their voice. Linda really could sing just about anything and I would want to hear it. There is such intelligent phrasing and a beautiful quality to her voice -- clear as a bell. When I heard that she was going to be performing the music live at Radio City Music Hall I met some friends in New York and we all went to that first night's performance of the material. I've written in the past about the night.
But I was keenly looking forward to the album "Lush Life" and rushed out to by it the day of its release. I instantly fell in love with Linda's version of "Lush Life." I was also pleased that there were some uptempo songs on "Lush Life" such as "Can't We Be Friends?" and "You Took Advantage of Me."
Linda was very smart to go to Nelson Riddle. Linda clearly loved this music and what better person to go to show reverence for the material and to showcase it by having one of the most popular voices in American music at that time singing the songs.
I still listen to these songs. I understand people's complaints that Linda in her later years seemed to only want to sing standards as opposed to "Heatwave" or "You're No Good." I know as fans that can be disappointing. I don't think Linda ever wanted to be a (insert name here) an oldies act and go work in Laughlin or Branson and string together a bunch of songs from the '70s. As much as I like the idea of Linda being included on one of those PBS "My Music" special that T.J. Lubinski produces, I can't ever seeing Linda wanting to dip into nostalgia. Yes, as fans, we might wish she would. But I think Linda has earned the right to do what she wants.
Another thing I will say is that the one word that always to mind when I think of Linda is "Integrity." She has great integrity as an artist. It comes through in her music and how dedicated she is to her craft. I think she is entitled to rest now.