Lounge-a-palooza

Sharps and Flats is a daily music review.

By Dawn Eden

Oct 1, 1997 | Call it what you will -- lounge music, cocktail music, exotica or even space-age bachelor pad music -- but the laid-back rhythms of '50s and early '60s adult pop are back in the spotlight. This time around, however, it's mostly a media phenomenon. Oh, fans will point to the success of Capitol's "UltraLounge" series -- now up to 20 volumes -- and Bar/None's Esquivel compilations, but who knows anyone who actually listens to those recordings? True enthusiasts do exist, but in numbers far smaller than the Esquire-reading trendies for whom Les Baxter is merely this year's Dick Dale.

"Lounge-a-Palooza," the first major label compilation to cash in on the lounge music revival, makes a grand attempt to attract both trendies and true believers. It's a strange mix of modern rock acts trying their hands at cocktail chestnuts and veteran lounge singers warbling alternahits. Two newly penned tunes in the bachelor pad spirit provide the olive in the sonic martini; Poe's "A Rose Is a Rose" and Presidents of the U.S.A. singer Chris Ballew's "Robert Goulet (On the River Nile)."

Lounge music's strong point has always been its ability to create a romantic atmosphere, usually with at least a hint of melancholia. While the genre's current fans claim to love the way it conveys deep emotions, many of them seem afraid to appear affected by it: Irony, which was almost completely absent from original lounge, is a major part of the cocktail mix of the '90s.

The problem, which "Lounge-a-Palooza" makes clear, is that, once you've enjoyed the Pizzicato Five's gleefully schizophrenic take on "The Girl From Ipanema" (which was a joke even in its time), there aren't that many levels of irony left to explore. Picture the Dick Van Dyke Show's Rob and Laura Petrie having Buddy and Sally over for a few gin and tonics. Rob, under the influence, makes a good-natured crack about Mel Cooley. Once Buddy's chimed in with some more barbs about their bald boss, that line of conversation becomes tired and they move on to deeper subjects, such as why walnuts are pouring out of the hall closet.

To be sure, any swiller worth his salt shaker would have to have the button-down mind of Mel Cooley not to appreciate "Lounge-a-Palooza's" best shots. Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormi's lushly orchestrated four-and-a-half-minute take on Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun" exceeds one's wildest expectations. They probably don't understand lyrics like "call my name through the cream" any more than the rest of us do, but they belt 'em out as though it were their last shot at a follow-up to "Go Away Little Girl." Which it probably is.

What makes Steve and Eydie's performance great is that they clearly respect the original version of the song, something that, judging by what's in the grooves, cannot be said of the Fun Lovin' Criminals' somnolent take on 10cc's "I'm Not In Love." Other Lounge-a-Paloozers seem to respect the originals too much. Glen Campbell and Michelle Shocked's attempt to recreate Campbell's godlike "Wichita Lineman" has predictably secular results, while Edwyn Collins's "Witchcraft" and Fastball's "This Guy's in Love With You" only serve to highlight the singers' pitch problems.

Fortunately, a few artists, like Combustible Edison (joined by lounge legend Esquivel on "Miniskirt") and the James Taylor Quartet (doing the Bob Crewe Generation's "Music to Watch Girls By") are willing to take a chance, mixing reverence with passion. Dedicated fans of lounge music will undoubtedly recognize those acts' ebullient performances as the genuine article. It's a relief to see that someone on "Lounge-a-Palooza" understands that to fully enjoy a great cocktail, you have to remove your tongue from your cheek.

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