Friday, August 25, 2006
Open Letter to Tony Bennett
To Tony Bennett
I have no problem with your complaints about the lack of culture in America, but pardon me if I disagree. This is not an intellectual argument, so anyone of you that considers yourself to be part of the culturally elite will be required to put your hearts in front of your minds.
I am writing this while listening to Nat King Cole sing some of the American Songbook. But before I get to that- there would be no cinema without our cinema. And though we didn't invent the theater, our Broadway rules the world.
Now I realize you alluded to this songbook in your reference to Jazz, but you grossly underestimate its American motivated power, passion, cleverness and romanticism. This 20th century phenomenon doesn’t smother or belittle the Asian and European cultures of food, art, design, it celebrates life and love – and best of all- it blesses and enriches all who hear it. As masterful as any master of any art, our songbook rules the world with its romance and emotion.
Hey Tony, is there a more sophisticated tune and verse than Billy Strayhorn’s
Lush Life? He was a teenager when he wrote it.
I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come what may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life...
From jazz and cocktails.
The girls I knew had sad and sullen gray faces
With distant gay traces
That used to be there you could see where theyd been washed away
By too many through the day...
Twelve oclock tales.T
hen you came along with your siren of song
To tempt me to madness!
I thought for a while that your poignant smile was tinged with the sadness
Of a great love for me.
Ah yes! I was wrong...
Again,I was wrong.
Life is lonely again,
And only last year everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A troughful of hearts could only be a bore.
A week in paris will ease the bite of it,
All I care is to smile in spite of it.
Ill forget you, I will
While yet you are still burning inside my brain.
Romance is mush,
Stifling those who strive.
Ill live a lush life in some small dive...
And there I’ll be, while I rot
With the rest of those whose lives are lonely, too…
I have no problem with your complaints about the lack of culture in America, but pardon me if I disagree. This is not an intellectual argument, so anyone of you that considers yourself to be part of the culturally elite will be required to put your hearts in front of your minds.
I am writing this while listening to Nat King Cole sing some of the American Songbook. But before I get to that- there would be no cinema without our cinema. And though we didn't invent the theater, our Broadway rules the world.
Now I realize you alluded to this songbook in your reference to Jazz, but you grossly underestimate its American motivated power, passion, cleverness and romanticism. This 20th century phenomenon doesn’t smother or belittle the Asian and European cultures of food, art, design, it celebrates life and love – and best of all- it blesses and enriches all who hear it. As masterful as any master of any art, our songbook rules the world with its romance and emotion.
Hey Tony, is there a more sophisticated tune and verse than Billy Strayhorn’s
Lush Life? He was a teenager when he wrote it.
I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come what may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life...
From jazz and cocktails.
The girls I knew had sad and sullen gray faces
With distant gay traces
That used to be there you could see where theyd been washed away
By too many through the day...
Twelve oclock tales.T
hen you came along with your siren of song
To tempt me to madness!
I thought for a while that your poignant smile was tinged with the sadness
Of a great love for me.
Ah yes! I was wrong...
Again,I was wrong.
Life is lonely again,
And only last year everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A troughful of hearts could only be a bore.
A week in paris will ease the bite of it,
All I care is to smile in spite of it.
Ill forget you, I will
While yet you are still burning inside my brain.
Romance is mush,
Stifling those who strive.
Ill live a lush life in some small dive...
And there I’ll be, while I rot
With the rest of those whose lives are lonely, too…
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