 Chet Baker I've listened to this CD more often, possibly, than I've brushed my teeth, and almost certainly more than any other CD I own. It's one of a small handful of CDs that literally changed the way I listened to music, spun my whole musical weathervane around and sent me off gleefully chasing tornadoes. It's the CD that probably spoiled any possibility for me to enjoy Sinatra (Frank, anyway – I gots nothing against Nancy). It's a CD I put on when I'm tired, or sad, or happy, or nervous, or excited, or murderous, or horny, or murderously horny. Music you can do crossword puzzles to, or sit with a bottle of expensive wine and reflect. Music that guarantees romance. Music that soothes the dull ache of a grave depression; music that speaks of hope and despair, in acknowledgement of sadness, but with a literal silver lining. What's so special about this? It's a collection of standards cranked out by a stylish but merely competent trumpeter over 40 years ago – songs from the 20s and 30s, surely a bit hokey even at the time they were recorded – so what makes The Best of Chet Baker Sings so damn magical? Chet's enigmatic stature in jazz is certainly part of the appeal – fair-haired, clean-cut kid with decent chops gains great success early and spends the rest of his life fucking it all up – the allure of heroin, the slow and gruesome descent – the teeth getting kicked out, the pawned horns, the impossibly stupid session work, the mysterious death that may or may not have been a suicide, the corpse that looked 30 years older than it was – perhaps the foreshadowing of all this comes through in the voice, which, while his trumpet playing was always engaging, was truly his most magnetic talent. A voice that I have played for people countless times over the years, and on more than one occasion someone has said "Who's this chick singing?" Or the worst one: "Who's the guy who can't sing?" One friend does a playful impression with Chet singing "I'm velvety-voiced Chet Baker, la la la la la la" to no particular tune. But no one walks away from this voice and forgets it – young, shy, cool, the picture of romance – it's what Harry Connick, Jr. fans would be listening to if they had any desire whatsoever to seek out something pure. Chet Baker was a great musician, and an icon whose appeal is one of the most powerful in all of jazz. Serious jazz heads relegate him to second-tier status, unswayed by the mythos. I say, listen to the music – there's not a forgettable note on this CD. There's not one single moment in over 65 minutes that I could do without. It's one of the very, very few CDs that I unreservedly qualify as perfect. Sure, it's a compilation – get over your "best of" phobia, buddy, sometimes you just can't do better. For those already familiar with Chet, and especially ones who have bought perhaps one or two CD's only to be disappointed by the lack of vocals or the poor sound quality (hopefully you haven't tried to start with one of those late-period Chet live albums, where he's singin', but the voice sure ain't followin' his lead), this CD is the one you want. Those who are already deeply into Chet, of course, already own it and cherish it. But you needn't know or care about Chet Baker to love the music – great songs, impeccably arranged and sung with a coolness Sinatra couldn't have managed had he sold his soul to Satan (again). The range isn't great, the approach is always the same – but what an approach. The trumpet playing is good, but the voice is what causes people to fall in love with the guy again and again and again. Backed by Russ Freeman on piano and a number of other West Coast cats (various bassists and drummers), Chet sings and plays – all the tracks are vocal, but Chet solos on most of them as well – the voice and trumpet become a seamless whole, each expressing something else from this incredible performer – for he sings as he plays, and plays as he sings. For me, this disc is the essence of Chet Baker. His career was not founded on vocals, but for me that's how he truly found his musical voice – the brilliance of his playing and singing on tracks like "But Not For Me" and "Let's Get Lost" are a shot to my heart every time, giving love a bad name, and Chet's to blame. It's amazing, amazing music. No other performer could take a song like "My Buddy" and make it seem so totally genuine, and the darkness Chet finds in songs like "The Thrill is Gone" and "I Get Along Without You Very Well" is very, very real. Everything has a tinge of sadness, even stuff like "My Funny Valentine" and "Time After Time" – these are love songs, though they sound like Chet's about to throw himself out of a hotel window (which apparently he was, though he waited 30-odd years). "I Fall in Love Too Easily," "Just Friends," "Long Ago and Far Away," "Like Someone in Love," "There Will Never Be Another You," "Look For the Silver Lining" – it's staggering how many of my favorite songs are on this disc, totally stellar, definitive performances. The vocalist he most compares to is probably Billie Holiday, and it's probably no coincidence that in both cases these performers couldn't decide which they liked better, drugs or music. The only drawback of the disc is it leaves you wanting another one just like it, and there's really none out there. Embraceable You is as close as I've found – it's more tracks from the same sessions, but not quite as spellbinding as this collection. This is not, by the way, to be confused with the film soundtrack Let's Get Lost, which is all stuff recorded right before Chet's death, I believe. In fact, I think that newer pressings of The Best of Chet Baker Sings omit the "Let's Get Lost" subtitle entirely – but however you find it, buy it. I've had it for a decade, and I still play it heavily, and I've never gotten tired of it. Can't say the same for, like, The Best of the Primitives, which I bought a few weeks ago, played once, and thoroughly don't care about now. When a CD comes along like this one, it's extremely rare, and I absolutely worship it.
Review by Oberlin Orringtone |
