1. What Is This Thing Called Love
2. Lover Man (Oh, Where Can You Be?)
3. You Better Go Now
4. Don’t Explain
5. Good Morning Heartache
6. Big Stuff
7. The Blues Are Brewin’
8. Deep Song
9. There is No Greater Love
10. Solitude
11. Keeps On A Rainin’
12. Do Your Duty
13. Gimme a Pigfoot And A Bottle Of Beer
14. I Loves You Porgy
15. My Man
16. You Can’t Lose a Broken Heart
17. My Sweet Hunk O’ Trash
18. You’re My Thrill
19. Crazy He Calls Me
20. ‘Taint Nobody’s Business If I Do
Tracks 1, 3, 4, 8, 9 and 10: accompanied
by Bob Haggart’s Orchestra
Track 2: accompanied by Camarata’s Orchestra
Track 5: accompanied by Bill Stegmeyer’s Orchestra
Tracks 6, 14 and 15: ‘With Instrumental Accompaniment’
Track 7: accompanied by John Simmons’ Orchestra
Tracks 11, 12 and 13: accompanied by Sy Oliver’s
Orchestra
Tracks 16 and 17: accompanied by Sy Oliver’s
Orchestra and Louis Armstrong (vocals)
Tracks 18 and 19: accompanied by Gordon Jenkins’
Orchestra
Track 20: accompanied by Buster Harding’s
Orchestra
As Scott Yanow notes in this collection’s
accompanying liner notes, Billie Holiday’s
recording career can be divided in to three
distinct parts. In 1933 - 42, she recorded
with various swing groups, which featured
such renowned contemporaries as Lester Young
and Teddy Wilson. In the 1950s, she worked
alongside the finest veteran jazz musicians,
recording numerous superior standards. It
is her middle - and arguably her finest -
period that is captured on You’re My Thrill.
The collection kicks off with
the Cole Porter standard, ‘What is This Thing
Called Love’, providing the perfect introduction
to the unusual phrasing and extraordinary
warmth that characterises Holiday’s famous
voice. This is followed by ‘Lover Man’, Holiday’s
first recording for Decca, and her biggest
commercial success of all. It is easy to see
why such a song should remain in her repertoire
from then on. With its melancholy blues tone
and pensive melody, it is perfectly suited
to Holiday’s voice. But it is Camarata’s orchestra
that seals the mood of the piece, the bass
thumping wearily as it carries the tune forward,
the stings curling subtly around the plaintive
vocals.
Indeed, this collection is
largely appealing as a portrait of Holiday’s
diverse work with various kinds of musical
accompaniment. Although a great deal of her
Decca recordings have her joined by orchestras
and powerful big bands (note her impressive
work with Sy Oliver), several of the most
alluring tracks here are conducted on an altogether
smaller canvas. ‘Big Stuff’, for example,
had previously been recorded with large orchestral
accompaniment - but with less than satisfactory
results. Here, with only a quintet for support,
the song is an utter delight to listen to;
with its surprising and satisfying melodic
structure, anything more than minimal accompaniment
would trample on Holiday’s quiet magic.
Whether or not she was greatest
singer the jazz world has ever seen remains
a hotly contested issue; but few would question
that Holiday’s voice was one of the most expressive
- and amongst the tracks of You’re My Thrill,
we find some great examples of this. Beautifully
supported by her rhythm section, Holiday’s
version of ‘I Loves You Porgy’ is a finely-crafted
masterpiece, both technically brilliant and
emotionally resonant. ‘Solitude’, likewise,
is poignant and moving, delivered with a level
of emotional authenticity that only Holiday
was able to capture. The depth of feeling
in Holiday’s voice, though, is nowhere more
evident than in ‘Don’t Explain’. With its
tragic lyrics - clearly rooted in Holiday’s
own experience - and the haunting quality
of the strings accompaniment, this is a song
that places her firmly in a different league
from her contemporaries.
Despite the depressing subject
matter of many of Holiday’s songs, however,
she never allows her music to descend in to
dreariness, hopelessness or self-indulgence;
good-humoured irony and quirky optimism break
through even the darkest narratives featured
on You’re My Thrill. Hence, ‘Good Morning
Heartache’ escapes being merely an account
of misery, and delights us with its clever
personification of those ‘Monday blues’. On
‘My Man’, likewise, Holiday’s tendency towards
ironic playfulness is even more prominent.
The minor-to-major key change that occurs
in the middle of that song almost seems symbolic
of her entire approach to emotion in music
- better to draw out an element of hope in
a portrait of fallible human nature, than
simply to offer a catalogue of grievances.
Absolute proof of Holiday’s
humour arrives near the end of collection
when we hear her teamed up with one of her
idols, the gravel-voiced Louis Armstrong.
‘My Sweet Hunk O’ Trash’, in particular, demonstrates
the warmth and musical connection between
the two jazz legends; as Armstrong struggles
to defend himself against numerous damning
accusations - everything from infidelity to
laziness - its difficult not to be attracted
to his character. The song, then, ultimately
achieves its aim - despite his flaws, there’s
a sweetness there that’s simply impossible
to ignore.
Looking back on Holiday’s life,
it seems no accident that domestic disputes,
emotional turmoil and breakdown feature so
prominently within her music. Indeed, her
turbulent personal life sometimes overshadowed
her achievements in jazz. Thankfully, though,
through You’re My Thrill and similar collections
of her material, her unique gift to the musical
world will never be forgotten. As a portrait
of Holiday’s work within this very distinctive
era, it is hard to fault this collection at
all: the sound quality is excellent: the variety
is immense: and, most importantly, the music
is timeless.
Robert Gibson