Lesley Gore: "It's My Party"

June 3, 1963 (3 weeks)

So, due to a combination of economics, changes in taste, creative ambitions, a musicians' union ban on recordings and a fateful and mysterious plane crash over the English Channel, the old big bands of jazz began to fade away during the forties. Managing a group of erratic and volatile individuals isn't the easiest of tasks as it is but now the conditions were such that it became damn-near impossible. Some of the established names managed to carry on — Duke Ellington's orchestra would remain a popular attraction for the rest of his life — but many were reduced to getting together much more sporadically — Benny Goodman's band gradually disintegrated until the LP release of their renowned Carnegie Hall concert in the early fifties.

Trios, quartets and quintets began to be the norm.  Yet many of the major practitioners of what would become bop still felt the pull of the orchestras in which many of them had cut their teeth. Charlie Parker satiated this need to some extent by recording some magnificent session with string sections while his longtime collaborator Dizzy Gillespie even attempted to put together big bands of his own — but these were anything but permanent setups. The trumpeter did sessions for what would become his brilliant album Afro on May 24 and June 3 of 1954 using entirely different groups. With Gillespie the chief soloist, one of the backing trumpeters was a young player named Quincy Jones, who would also assume the role of musical director.

When I was first getting into jazz, I head his name on occasion and instantly made the connection to Michael Jackson. Jones produced the fantastic Off the Wall, the slightly overrated Thriller and the very overrated Bad. What I wondered about was how he got from toiling in the dying jazz big bands to being behind the control desk for the biggest pop star in the world. Clearly this wasn't a leap he made over a short period of time but still it seemed like an odd career path. Was Quincy Jones just another case of a sell out or was there something else going on?

I still remember the first time I heard "It's My Party". I was probably about seven years old and it was at Grandma Betty's place. It must have come on over the radio or a snippet of it was featured in one of those KTel commercials but from then on I began to associate it with my grandmother. Never mind the fact that it came out in 1963 and was clearly aimed at my mum's generation instead: I encountered it at my Grandma's place and that sealed it. Funnily enough, I might not have been all that wrong because of Quincy Jones' involvement. His years of toiling for meager pay and next to no job security with Lionel Hampton and Dizzy Gillespie had paid off. For while Lesley Gore may have initially sold it, it is the arrangement and production of "It's My Party" that still makes it a top tier single to this day.

I've written before about singles that seem to play better in one's imagination than they do when you actually sit down to listen to them but this isn't one of them. If anything, it only gets more potent with subsequent listens. Having not heard it in quite some time, I had approached "It's My Party" a little reticently. "Oh great," I thought to myself, "A poor little rich girl whining about how she didn't quite get her way at her sweet 16 and so she throws a giant hissy fit". (And, to be fair, someone in tears at a party is one of those inevitabilities and it's only right that there should be at least one song about the phenomenon) But then I put it on and remembered that Lesley has a perfectly good reason to be in such a state — and at her own party to boot.

But to hell with the narrative, it's the tune that is what really matters here. The horn section is an absolute delight. At first it sounds like an especially vigorous Stax or Tamla Motown number but it's too sophisticated for a simple Memphis horn section. While not exactly Johnny Hodges, Ray Nance and Ben Webster playing in Duke Ellington's band, it's more like a semi-pro jazz orchestra had been commissioned to play on a pop song, helmed by one of the finest musical minds of the twentieth century. While adjectives such as 'catchy' and 'fun' can easily be applied, it's also surprisingly thrilling — and it isn't simply down to the horns. The rhythm section is tight and forceful. I know we're supposed to save the term for long haired dudes playing guitars as basically as possible but you know what else "It's My Party" does? It rocks and rocks hard.

Lesley Gore also plays her part even if she's a lot more subtle than the instrumentalists. While I'm undecided as to the overall quality of her voice, I think it's clear that no one could've done it better (and, indeed, no one has been remotely close in spite of many cover versions over more than sixty years). Though retelling a tale about this disastrous party in a commendably measured tone, the chorus brings about the hysterics. I think the contrast of her sounding as if she's neutrally reporting an incident before revealing her true feelings is the perfect approach. Yet, I don't quite believe her. So, does she expect us to believe that had she been at someone else's party that she wouldn't be crying even with Johnny still going off with Johnny? I don't buy it. I'm guessing that she has a crush on him but she never had the nerve to approach him and now she's bitter that someone else has stepped in. (I've been trying to detect a lesbian subtext to work with seeing as how Gore was part of the LGBTQ community but it doesn't quite fit — but, who knows, maybe she's secretly been in love with this Judy all along) 

As opposed to, say, fellow trumpeter Lee Morgan, Jones was unable or unwilling to make the jump from dues paying in an orchestra to leading a jazz combo of his own. Rather, he took much of what he learned from from Dizzy Gillespie and applied it to pop arrangement. It worked well as he did film soundtracks and eventually began working with Frank Sinatra. I'm still not quite seeing a through line from "It's My Party" to "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" but that will require a deeper dive. Yet, there's a definite connection leading him from jazz to pop and there's nothing to suggest selling out had anything to do with it. Thank god.

Score: 8

~~~~~

Can Con

Hmm, I'm sensing a shift. Canadians are appearing on the CHUM charts and it isn't simply Paul-bloody-Anka. It's almost as if a music scene was in the midst of developing organically or something. London, Ontario's Larry Lee seems to have a bone to pick with those ladies who stand him up and I know what he means. I mean, I was never stood up as such but I have had girls cancel on me and there was this one time I emailed one in my pre-cell phone days who supposedly didn't get the message I sent her and we ended up meeting at separate places. But, yeah, it must suck being such a loser that you end up getting stood up on multiple occasions. He might have wanted to look in the mirror at some point. At any rate, his Top 30 hit "Stood Up" is a punchy C&W 45 with a welcome dose of humour with some zany musical touches. He hammers the point home however which leads me to conclude that if there's anything I can't stand it's two-minute pop songs that outstay their welcome. Yeah, it's not as catchy a statement as old Larry's, I know.