Tammy Grimes - the Columbia LPs

When we last heard from Tammy Grimes, it was 1959 and she was presenting a new cabaret act at Julius Monk's Downstairs at the Upstairs in New York. Her appearances caused at least a mild sensation, attracting the likes of Noël Coward to see the show.

Coward in particular became a fan, immediately casting her in his next play, the comedy Look After Lulu, based on Georges Feydeau's 1908 farce Occupe-toi d'Amelie. Grimes would seem to have been invented for the genre, but for whatever reason, the show was a flop, opening March 3, 1959 and closing April 4, 1959.  Coward would return to Grimes with another, more successful project a few years later.

With Harve Presnell, The Unsinkable Molly Brown

Lulu may have foundered, but Grimes kept on sailing. There were specials on television (the download includes a long New York Times interview connected with one of them), then she enjoyed one of her biggest successes, the title role in Meredith Willson's musical The Unsinkable Molly Brown. It opened in November 1960 and stayed at the Winter Garden until February 1962 with Grimes in the lead role,  wowing the customers with the opening number, "I Ain't Down Yet." She then was the lead in the show's national tour. She won a Tony, and the original cast album on Capitol was a healthy seller.

Columbia Records took note of her growing fame and signed her to a contract. Her first solo LP came out in May 1962, the second in March 1963. Today's post presents both. Spoiler: the first is uneven, but the second is mostly terrific.

Tammy Grimes

For Grimes' first LP, Columbia did give her something of the star treatment, with striking photos by Richard Avedon on the front and back covers, and liner notes consisting of rave reviews by the New York critics, who again competed to provide the most colorful descriptions of her voice and personality.

These tortured encomiums, presumably inspired by Molly Brown, included:

Walter Kerr, New York Herald-Tribune: "Out of this improbable rag doll, with its faraway stares comes a falsetto baritone that seems to be a distillation of all the sweet-tempered steampipes that ever played vaudeville.” 

John Wilson, New York Times: "Miss Grimes has an astonishing sweet-and-sour voice — at one moment as grindingly-penetrating as a dentist’s drill, but then miraculously all softness and tenderness."

Back cover photo by Richard Avedon

Joseph Wershba, New York Post: "Her voice ... has been aptly described as half velvet, half gravel and all magically rusty - set in a stage personality of rock-candy hardness."

The anonymous critic for Show Magazine was perhaps most on the mark with this notice: "Tammy Grimes is an artful, introspective comedienne with irresistible bounce, a hauntingly scratchy voice, and a face that is minxlike and memorable."

What did Columbia do with this magical, miraculous, haunting, irresistible voice? It toned it down. On this first Columbia LP, she sounds like no one so much as Eartha Kitt.

The album starts off with some real oldies - Sissle and Blake's "I'm Just Wild About Harry" from 1921 and the Hanley-McDonald "Rose of Washington Square" from 1920. She has fun with the former, name-checking bandleader Luther Henderson and producer Mike Berniker. But Henderson produced an old-timey arrangement for the latter, circumscribing what she could do with it. Great to hear the verse, though!

"I'll Be Seeing You" comes from 1938 but didn't make the charts until 1944. This use of the Fain-Kahal song was possibly inspired by its appearance on Frank Sinatra's LP I Remember Tommy in 1961. The lyrics' sentiments don't play to her strengths.

The Julius Monk LP had included a song called "Doodle Doo Doo." It also appears here under its correct title, "Doodle Dee Ooo." (She pronounces it "Doodle Lee Doo" anyway.) It's fun, but once was enough.

Luther Henderson

"You Came a Long Way from St. Louis," the John Benson Brooks-Bob Russell tune from 1948, does give Grimes something to work with, having a strong point of view that she could exploit - which she does at full throttle. Henderson's rock 'n' roll chart compliments it nicely.

Back to the oldies with "On the Sunny Side of the Street," a Depression song by Dorothy Fields and Jimmy McHugh. (Some say Fats Waller sold it to the latter.) Not a favorite of mine, and it does not lend itself to whimsy. Henderson's easy-going chart is enjoyable, but Tammy's intonation can be off, and she resorts to shouting.

Cole Porter's aesthetic would seem suited to Grimes' talents, and she is adept with one of his biggest hits, "Anything Goes." The chart is cluttered, though.

Next she ventured into Gershwin territory with "How Long Has This Been Going On." The problem with her approach is that she has a hard time - at least here - switching gears and expressing emotion. This isn't entirely convincing.

If you ever wanted to hear "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows" sung in a staccato manner, introduced by a snatch of "La Marseillaise," with a slide whistle and calliope thrown in, this is for you. Well, Chopin wrote the melody in France, so framing it with the French national anthem sort of makes sense.

Another relic, "If I Had You," is one of the best things on the LP, although the chart is again not much help. Grimes' singing is mainly sprechstimme.

Someone had the idea of including the 1958 pop hit "Tom Dooley," supposedly written by the Kingston Trio's Dave Guard, but actually a old folk song. This is at once overwrought and insincere, and the arrangement is clunky.

The LP does end on a high note with the 1930 entreaty, "Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone." Tammy seems into the song and the simple chart helps her, for once. She ends strongly, in true vaudeville fashion.

My copy of this LP is in mono, but the sound is very, very good, processed in ambient stereo.

The Unmistakable Tammy Grimes

The Columbia moguls must have been happy with the first LP - they brought back the same team for a second effort: arranger Luther Henderson, producer Mike Berniker and a similar bill of fare, with a few newer items added. The album came out in March 1963.

Columbia engaged the Vogue illustrator René Bouché for the stylish cover illustration, making his name bigger than that of Grimes. Apparently his name sold records. 

It is a fine likeness, with the artist turning her famously tousled hair into a Medusa-like apparition, perhaps a comment on Grimes' temperamental reputation.

For the back cover, Columbia turned to another famous photographer, Milton Greene, for one of the singer's most flattering portraits. Here, she's not dressed in leather, smoking a cigarette or disheveled.

Back cover with Milton Greene photo

As with the first album, Columbia went straight back to the early 1920s for the first song, "Toot, Toot, Toosie (Goo'Bye!)," associated with both Al Jolson and Eddie Cantor, two other powerful stage personalities. Both singer and arranger are reasonably straightforward with their respective duties, and the song comes off well. (Not as well as Jolie, though.)

"Miss Otis Regrets" is one of my least favorite Cole Porter songs, but Grimes plays it against the grain, in other words straight, without any knowing side-glances or innuendo, and it's effective. Luther Henderson is in tune with this approach.

We're back to the Twenties for "Bye Bye Blackbird," the Mort Dixon-Ray Henderson standard of 1926. Grimes and Henderson are integrated for this one, and Grimes sells it strongly.

I don't know who came up with the idea of including the quasi-spiritual "Gonna Build a Mountain" in this program, but I would have told them it was a horrible idea. And I would have been wrong. Grimes and Henderson do it without condescension, unlike the performances of its creator, Anthony Newley, which sound synthetic. Leslie Bricusse was the co-author.

I would have been even more emphatic about not programming "Hi-Lili, Hi-Lo," which, you may recall, was sung to a puppet by Leslie Caron in the 1953 film Lili. Again I would have been mistaken. It's a gorgeous song, although quite simple, and Grimes has the good sense to include Bronislaw Kaper's accomplished verse. She doesn't kid Helen Deutsch's lyrics in the least.

The Rattle of a Simple Man, 1963

Tammy is in a knowing mood for "Just Squeeze Me (But Don't Tease Me)," a 1941 Duke Ellington-Lee Gaines song that she does brilliantly, with Henderson adding an unexpected rock 'n' roll arrangement. (I assume Ellington didn't object - Henderson was associated with the Duke for many years.) This is great.

Even better is Henderson's take on the spiritual "Hold On," which comes off superbly here, rhythmic and inspiring.

Grimes is in commanding form in "My Man," reviving the Maurice Yvain song written for Mistinguett in 1920 and brought to the US for Fanny Brice in 1921. Henderson's choppy arrangement just doesn't work here; it seems to fight her rather than supporting her. "My Man" was adopted to great effect by another powerful personality a few years later.

"Time After Time" is a great Styne-Cahn song that Grimes sings ably, although she doesn't have quite enough vocal control to bring it off completely. It is affecting, however, and skillfully supported by the orchestra.

With Beatrice Lillie, High Spirits, 1964

They went back to rummaging around the music trunk for "Lullaby of Broadway," the Warren-Dubin song from 1935. Another fine tune, which Luther Henderson thought needed a Latin beat. Tammy doesn't have the chops for this one, in truth.

She does have fun with the old Ink Spots specialty "Java Jive" and Henderson's arrangement is in tune with her.

Tammy finishes the LP with "I'd Do Anything" from Lionel Bart's Oliver! It's a strong song from a recent show, but it works best as a duet. Henderson thought it required a Guy Lombardo-style brass chorus; not sure I agree.

This second LP ended Grimes' recording career with Columbia. The label almost simultaneously released the first album by the other powerful personality I noted above - Barbra Streisand. There are many parallels between the early careers of Grimes and Streisand. For the latter: cabaret show - check, at the Bob Soir and then Blue Angel. Broadway stardom - yes, in I Can Get It for You Wholesale. Distinctive appearance and singing style - check and check. Incandescent personality - oh yes. Now add Columbia Records, producer Mike Berniker, a different arranger (Peter Matz), a similar although more focused repertoire, and a great deal of talent, and a mega-star emerges.

But Tammy Grimes went on to her own great things on the stage and elsewhere - a triumph in Noël Coward's High Spirits in 1964, and another Tony for Coward's Private Lives in 1970, along with many more accomplishments. She deserves to be remembered.

My copy of this second LP is in stereo, and the sound is very fine.

The Only Game in Town, 1968

Tammy Grimes - the Early Recordings

Actor-singer Tammy Grimes was something of an entertainment world phenomenon in the 1960s. She was a Noël Coward protege, won Tonys, made records, and was ever-present on American television.

Critics strained to invent colorful descriptions of her singing: "pliable frog voice," "afflicted with a permanent case of laryngitis," "rusty-coated," etc.

The landmarks of her career were a Tony for the title character in The Unsinkable Molly Brown and another for a revival of Coward's Private Lives, the leading role in Coward's musical version of Blithe Spirit (High Spirits), two Columbia LPs, and her own, brief television series.

But in my estimation some of her best work was done before the 1960s, particularly in the remarkably good cabaret act she mounted in 1958-59, and before that in her songs in 1956's The Littlest Revue. In this article we'll explore those recordings. A second post will present her 1962-63 Columbia LPs.

Julius Monk Presents Tammy Grimes

Grimes (1934-2016) was from the Boston area, but moved to New York as a young adult. Her earliest real success was in 1956's The Littlest Revue, with songs primarily by Vernon Duke and Ogden Nash. We'll get to her numbers from that show below.

Cabaret producer Julius Monk saw her in a non-singing role and somehow decided she would make a good chanteuse, or so it is said. I think it's more likely that he saw The Littlest Revue and knew she had a strong voice, powerful personality and off-kilter charm.

Grimes at The Downstairs

Whatever the background, Monk and Grimes developed a superb cabaret act, and deployed it at his Downstairs at the Upstairs nightspot in December 1958. It soon became a popular success - so much so that it merited a page of photos in Life magazine, one of the principal chronicles of the time. (The article is in the download.)

Monk quickly produced an LP of the act, which came out on the small Off-Broadway label. I like the reaction by the High Fidelity reviewer: "Miss Grimes is a singer of remarkable range: she can be subdued and touching in a song like 'Molly Malone' or strident and brash in Cole Porter’s 'From Alpha to Omega'; she relishes the point of 'Take Him' from Pal Joey, yet can also toss off the inconsequentialities of 'Doodle Doo Doo' with unbounded good nature."

Julius Monk

Her choice of material is strikingly good. Cabaret expert James Gavin insists that Monk selected the repertoire: "Grimes had never heard these songs, so the experience was like learning a new role - or a dozen - on short notice," he wrote in his book Intimate Nights.

The record begins with Monk himself announcing Grimes in his affected manner, backed by Stan Keen and Carl Norman at the pianos, playing Bart Howard's "Upstairs at the Downstairs Waltz." Keen and Norman were among Monk's house pianists; they also appear on his own revue LPs.

Night club acts often begin with an up-tempo number, and Grimes tears through "Fit as a Fiddle," a 1932 song that had been revived in 1952 by Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor in Singin' in the Rain.

Next, the singer launches into a wonderfully affecting version of one of the best but little-remembered  songs by Rodgers and Hart, "We'll Be the Same," which is memorable both in words and music. It comes from 1930's America's Sweetheart.

A Sammy Fain-Yip Harburg faux-madrigal, "The Springtime Cometh," is next, followed by her knowing reading of "Take Him." The Arlen-Harburg-Gershwin "Let's Take a Walk Around the Block" (from 1934's Life Begins at 8:20) could hardly be bettered. As with all relevant numbers, she sings the verse, handling it in a delightfully extroverted manner.

'Let's Take a Walk Around the Block'

I am no fan of the maudlin "Molly Malone" - although Grimes does it sensitively - but I do love "Limehouse Blues," written for a West End revue, made famous by Gertrude Lawrence and later a jazz standard. 

Next, three Cole Porter songs  - "From Alpha to Omega," "What Shall I Do" and "I Loved Him But He Didn't Love Me" (an exceptional performance). The first two are from You Never Know; the latter from Wake Up and Dream.

Arlen, Harburg and Gershwin (and the score of Life Begins at 8:40) return with "Shoein' the Mare," followed by Oscar Levant's greatest hit, "Blame It on My Youth," which benefits from including the verse. Eddie Heyman was the lyricist.

Harburg appears again with the delightful "Something Sort of Grandish," which he wrote with Burton Lane for Finian's Rainbow. Its wordplay is perfect for Grimes. The jazz age "Doodle Dee Ooo" (called "Doodle Doo Doo" here) must have appealed to the singer - she included it on her first Columbia LP as well. Here she presents it as a torch song.

The principal issue with this terrific LP is its sound. This could be understandable if it had been recorded in situ, but this appears to be a studio recreation - there is no audience present. The music as reproduced had almost no bass, a strident upper mid range and shrieking highs. I've rebalanced it, added a small amount of room tone and processed the mono-only recording in ambient stereo. It sounds good now, and hopefully does justice to this remarkable singer.

Songs from The Littlest Revue

The young producer Ben Bagley had some success with the Shoestring Revue in 1955, and even managed to get it recorded. He returned the next year with The Littlest Revue, and Epic was there to record it as well, even though it ran for only a month.

Grimes was one of the eight cast members, who also included Joel Grey and two of the wackiest comic actors of the time, Charlotte Rae and Larry Storch.

The revue's main songwriters were Vernon Duke and Ogden Nash, with additional contributions from John Latouche, Sheldon Harnick, Strouse and Adams, Michael Brown and others.

Both of Grimes' songs were by Duke and Nash, and can be best described as mildly amusing, although strongly presented by the vocalist. The first, "Madly in Love" is a take-off on "The Boy Next Door" and similar songs. Perhaps the "boy next door" in this case was Larry Storch?

The Littlest Revue - Tammy Grimes and Larry Storch

"I'm Glad I'm Not a Man" is predictable in its implications and reflective of the time, but Grimes is again commanding. Epic's sound is very good.

Next time, we'll look into how the singer changed her approach for a major label, Columbia. Thanks to my friend jake for inspiring this brief series!