C’est si bon
Uska Dara – A Turkish Tale
Bal Petit Bal
Monotonous
I Want To Be Evil
Angelitos Negros
Avril au Portugal
Lilac Wine
African Lullaby
Mountain High, Valley Low
Annie Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
Santa Baby
My Heart Belongs To Daddy
Let’s Do It
Somebody Bad Stole De Wedding Bell
Mink Shmink
Tea in Chicago
My Daddy is a Dandy
This Year’s Santa Baby
Under The Bridges of Paris
Eartha Kitt with orchestras conducted by Henri
René, Anton Coppola, Hugo Winterhalter
and Abba Bogin
The Naxos Nostalgia team
has got around to Eartha Kitt’s celebrated
early recordings of 1952-54, the years of
her New York breakthrough. Her Cabaret and
New Faces successes lead to a series of RCA
singles, of which we have a good number here,
many of them accompanied by the chorus and
orchestra led by Henri René. She traded
on her sultry delivery and an affinity for
languages partly nurtured by her time in Paris
– all leavened with an undertow of mockery
that still adds a certain frisson when listening
to her delivery (and not just in Santa
Baby). The tracks have all been digitally
remastered and they sound crisp and balanced
even if the fashion of the time was to put
the singer under the mike and the band in
the corridor.
These early sides show her
obvious affinity with Parisian song and it’s
inevitably Piaf who looms largest as a direct
influence; the hauteur is there but it’s more
a question of the vibrato, though she doesn’t
possess Piaf’s intensity or quasi-operatic
power. In addition to French, she tries out
Spanish, Turkish, some Swahili and a touch
of New York Yiddish – disappointingly no Portuguese
– though overdubbing allows plenty of room
for linguistic manoeuvre.
I’m sure that she’s not the
only singer to be thought of as a femme fatale
but she’s one the few to be able to get away
with Arthur Siegel and June Carroll’s outrageous
rhyming of femme fatale with Taj Mahal in
Monotonous – in fairness the list of
celebrities with whom she supposedly dallied
in the song makes up for it. The arrangements
for the most part in all these songs are functional
rather than creative. Under The Bridges
of Paris sports a very half-hearted accordion
and the more quixotic numbers tend to plough
the same generic furrow – one wonders what
she could have done with a Robert Farnon or
a Nelson Riddle to stretch her.
Still, these twenty sides
offer a good slice of Kitt in her earliest
days on record.
Jonathan Woolf