Not a Care in the World

Notes by Terry Ross

Rebecca Kilgore and Dave Frishberg’s gig at Portland’s Heathman Hotel is more than just a source of civic pride in a medium-sized west coast city. Llke Bobby Short’s summers at the Cafe Carlyle, Dave McKenna’s famous tenure some years back at Boston’s Copley Plaza and Ellis Larkins’ years down behind Carnegie Hall, Becky and Dave are an American classic. For the price of a drink or two – there’s no cover charge – a lucky Portlander can sit all evening just about any Wednesday or Thursday of the year, luxuriating in the spell of Becky’s sweet satiny alto and Dave’s inimitable keyboard inventions. When, as on this album, they invite young guttanst Dan Faehnle to sit m, their tight and yet relaxed, swinging mix recreates the jazz heyday of the ’40s and ’50s, when singers, piano players and sidemen could be found in eveiy American supper club, bringing the classic American songs to life. Those days are gone now, but when you slip this album into your CD player and pour yourself a cocktail, you’re getting ready to spend an evening with what may be the best standing club act in the country.

Dave, Becky and Dan kick off this session with the first of four medleys, and you can hear their talented ears at work in the tunes they chose, all three from the ’30s. What could be more natural than fusing Hany White and Mitchell Parish’s Evenin’, with the similar changes of Swing, Brother, Swing, and Eddie Durham’s Topsy. Dan takes a tasty guitar break on Evenin’, Dave rocks along effortlessly, and Becky swings the unfamiliar lyrics.

Vernon Duke’s Not a Care In the World, from a 1941 show called Banjo Eyes, is a perfect example of how Dave and Becky can turn yesterday’s Broadway ephemera into affecting little jewels. Not a Care is no big deal – it’s just a perfect, breezy appetizer.

Becky makes delicious snacks of such homey John LaTouche lines as “not a bean in my pot, not a care in the world.”

Harry Ruby’s A Kiss To Build a Dream On showcases Dave and Dan’s free and easy way of trading the bass line back and forth without ever stepping on each other. And Becky is at her sweet, soft best in this innocent, vamp-tempo mode, embellishing the melody, yet staying out of the tune’s way.

Drop in at the Heathman Hotel when Becky and Dave are there, and you’re likely to hear three, four, or even five languages, and not just from the visiting international businessmen. Becky loves singing in tongues. French and Spanish are big favorites, and no one north of Brazil does Portuguese better. In the medley Samba de Minha Terra/ So Danco Samba, Becky croons in both Portuguese and English while Dave and Dan swing the samba just off the beat. Dan Faehnle, especially, sounds born to play the bossa nova.

All My Life is another of those simple songs that Becky and Dave treat so well. Becky lets the pretty tune have its moment while Dave spins out an impeccable slow stride worthy of the late Nat Cole in his piano trio heyday. An Occasional Man is a walk down memory lane to a time (1955) when lightheartedness and cleverness in lyrics counted. However you look at it, or listen to it, it’s a good tune, and lightly done.

One of the things that makes the Dave-Becky partnership such a treasure is tl1eir knack for dusting off the reputations of undeservedly forgotten songwriters like Nacio Herb Brown, the tailor, real estate man and tunesmith who hit paydirt in the ’30s with the likes of You Are My Lucky Star and You Stepped Out of a Dream.

On I’ve Got a Feelin’ You’re Foolin’ from 1935, Becky and Dan fashion a delicious interplay in lighthearted swing time while Dave provides a sure bass on the piano, reminding us why there’s a park named after Brown in his hometown of Deming, New Mexico.

In the Land of Oo-Blah-Dee, Mary Lou Williams’ and Milton Orent’s 1949 novelty tune is one of the first songs to use scat lyrics as a storyline. In the wacko tale, Becky escapes the attentions of two giants with help from Dave, who makes the piano “jump” when our heroine leaps clear of her pursuers. Becky then scats in the weird language of the country that could be called Scatland. All the fun makes you wonder what ever happened to novelty tunes, anyway?

On My Melancholy Baby, the trio returns unexpectedly to South America to give us a bossa nova update to Ernie Burnett’s 1911 standard. Nothing melancholy about this version. I seem to remember a Fats Waller version of Night Wind, where the rotund one did his suggestive, eye-rollin’ thing with the lyric’s sultry southern evenings.

Dave and Becky show that this simple tune works great straight, with Dave’s
half-bar filigrees evoking Fats’ irrepressible arpeggios. His solo chorus is a little gem, entirely à la Frishberg.

The Gershwin brothers make an appearance here with Ira’s clever Blah, Blah, Blah, lyric in which only the line-ending rhyme words tell the story. As they do with so many joke songs, Dave and Becky make the gag live by treating it gently and seriously. Magically, the Gershwins’ satire is transformed into a lovely ballad, blah-blah and all.

In the medley South American Way/Say “Si Si” we get a genuine Latin song alongside an American take on the subject. Dave makes a wild, hammy meal of Jimmy McHugh’s stateside version before Becky settles into a lilting Spanish/English rendition of the real thing. Becky and Dan are almost alone on Talking To Myself About You, a quiet, very slow – and very relaxed – version of a little throwaway tune (of the “waiting for your phone call” genre). Again, yesterday’s unpretentious song becomes a short, sweet memorable moment.

Kiss and Run gives Dave an opportunity to show off his left hand, and he rises to the occasion with the best rolling bass this side of Dave McKenna. With a piano like this, no wonder Becky likes to lay out a chorus and just dig Dave like the rest of us.

Hoagy Carmichael’s Georgia has attracted everyone from Art Tatum to Ray
Charles, but Dave, Becky and Dan go back to 1930 and the original for a slow, swinging version reminiscent of Hoagy’s own recording of the tune, with a bluesy piano-guitar break thrown in to show where the tune came from.

Ballerina/ I Won’t Dance is another of Becky and Dave’s theme medleys, this time on Terpsichore’s art. While Becky put~ the case in clear, sweet tones, Dave cuts loose for a gentle take on, first, the walking bass, and then Errol Garner’s stabbed chordal bass.

Johnny Mercer’s 1930 lyric gave new life to a 1902 ditty and made a hit of the Glow-Worm, one of the rare songs to find gold in the insect kingdom. Becky and Dave close out their show with a straight and toothsome rendition that highlights Mercer’s irresistible rhymes.

• Terry Ross, May, 1996
  (Terry Ross, a freelancer who lives in Portland, Oregon, writes frequently on books, classical music, and the visual arts, but he’d much rather write about jazz. From time to time, his articles can be found in the Portland Oregonian)