Little-Known Facts
Is anyone surprised that Rick Thompson says he’s played South Pacific more than any other album in his collection? Or that Don Gibbs’ champ is West Side Story, or that Alfonzo Tyson’s is My Fair Lady? You’d expect hits to show up as answers to my recently posed question, “What album do you think you’ve played more times than any other?” But as someone who has an interest in neglected Broadway musicals, I was intrigued to see that many of you declared titles that aren’t household names as your Most-Played Albums.
Imagine my delight when Stu Gross mentioned A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, Kwamina, and Do I Hear A Waltz? Or when Chris Van Ness said, “Kean — not so much for the score, which is about two notches above passable, but for the memories of a glorious evening in the theater.” I smiled when Jim Lockwood named “Maggie May, the 1964 West End hit. I played that LP till the scratches seemed louder than the lyrics. I recently purchased the re-release of the CD, which still gets a lot of play.”
I grinned widely when Tom Cicero noted, “For some strange reason, I keep going back to Celebration.” I cocked my head with interest when Chad Kirvan decided, “No album has been such a must-have for me as Closer Than Ever. I’m a huge Maltby and Shire fan, and this album is SO well done.” Then I shook my head from side to side when I read what Albert F. Koenig, Jr. wrote: “I k-n-o-w you hate the title song — I am an avid reader — but I play Happy Hunting the most.” Hey, anything that gives you pleasure is fine with me, Albert !
Others went into more detail, such as John W. Griffin: “Asking me to summarize my life in three sentences might be easier that deciding which album I’ve listened to the most. But the champ probably is one of the worst albums ever made: The soundtrack of At Long Last Love, where you can hear off-key Burt Reynolds spitting water in Cybill Shepherd’s face during the middle of ‘It’s De-Lovely.’ Didn’t matter. Still doesn’t. That was my introduction to Cole Porter, and I simply could not get enough of those lyrics or those melodies.”
Glenn Atchison named “Pipe Dream. I was into pre-rock ’50s pop music, and though I didn’t know it, many of the songs I most warmed to came from musicals. I lived in Nova Scotia but could pick up WHDH-Boston, where my all-time favourite d.j. played the new pop releases. Some from RCA caught my ear in 1955: ‘The Next Time It Happens’ as sung by the Ames Brothers, ‘All at Once You Love Her’ as sung by Perry Como, and ‘Everybody’s Got a Home but Me’ as sung by Eddie Fisher. Once I discovered that all of these came from a Broadway musical called Pipe Dream, I scraped together the $4.98 to buy the LP, thinking that the other songs on the album must be as good. I put the needle on the first track, something called ‘Overture,’ and the goose bumps began. Fifty years later, I still get a thrill from it.”
William E.Lurie wrote, “Easy: Al Carmines’ Promenade, which I have listened to on a regular basis ever since I first got the LP. I recently listened again as I contemplated Carmines’ death and the lack of coverage it got in the media. To me, he was Reverend Al — not Sharpton. As for runners up, another Carmines is right there towards the top: W.C., along with Billy, Windy City, and Bar Mitzvah Boy.”
“Coco,” declared Douglas Braverman. “No, I don’t listen to it for Katharine Hepburn’s singing voice but because I am constantly amazed by the extraordinary wit of the lyrics and the surprisingly tuneful score. I actually saw Hepburn in Coco and don’t remember being especially impressed by the music. However, I purchased the CD about two years ago and was surprised and delighted by how much I enjoyed listening to it. I wasn’t aware of how often I listened to it until you asked your question; then I realized that I keep Coco in my portable CD player and listen to it every time I travel, which is frequently.”
Dallas Street picked the album of a show that was a hit in its day but now seems largely forgotten: Irma La Douce. “In 1988, I decided to broaden my musical theater horizons from Phantom,” he wrote. “At a used record store, I spied Irma — it must have been that David Merrick red. Once home, I put it on and, to my surprise, I found that I already knew the overture from the ’88 Calgary Winter Olympics, where it had been used in the Ladies Figure Skating Competition. I soon found out that the rest of the score was just as jaunty as the overture, and I have never burnt out on this show. I wish we had a new mounting of Irma — no pun intended.”
But the most moving answer came from Ed Weissman: “The original Broadway cast album of Candide. Why? Some people may play the greatest of all musicals (Gypsy), or the musical they admire the most (1776), or their first musicals (Wonderful Town, By the Beautiful Sea, Kismet), or one with their favorite star (Gwen Verdon), or one they went to with their first love. My first love was the musical itself, so that’s not relevant here. But Candide changed my life and helped me to grow. I saw the original when I was 13, loved it, and knew it was great — even though the reviews were not good and the show closed quickly. (At least I got to move to a better seat.) Candide taught me to trust my judgment. Over the years, I played it to shore up my self-confidence and to remember who I used to be. All the while, my gardens have grown, indeed.”
Thanks to Ed and to everyone else who wrote in. On Friday, we’ll take a look at the Broadway musical creator whose show albums were most often listed as people’s favorites. Have you already guessed who it is?
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[To contact Peter Filichia directly, e-mail him at pfilichia@theatermania.com]
