The only way I seem to be able to neutralize the mood is by playing
something less heartbreaking by Mario ...e.g. "one alone", one of my
favs. I was wondering if any of the other members have a reaction like
this?
It's ironic to me that you turn to Mario's One Alone to "neutralize"
your mood, as I find that recording, if anything, even more
heartbreaking than his 1958 Fenesta che Lucive! (I'm assuming, of
course, that you're referring to the 1959 recording, and not the Coke
version.) I always play the magnificent "raw" version of One Alone
(ie, without the overlaid chorus):
http://www.4shared.com/file/176096730/ac92f09b/One_Alone.html
The burnished quality of Lanza's voice here is incredible, as is the
pathos of his delivery. It's a beautifully recorded rendition too; if
only RCA had applied the same care to all Mario's 1959 sessions!
Amazing to think that the man had less than two months to live when he
recorded this.
"Well. I am glad I am not alone! ( say hi to Dad for me). Yes, it WAS
the 1959 recording that I had in mind, however, I must also confess
that the Coke version, while less polished, has some exciting raw
electricity which I DO like. I change my mood in steps Derek, I may go
from Fenesta, to One Alone and then to When you are in love, for
example, to get back to "normal". His voice can just "mold" my mood .
Few singers could ever do that to me; Lanza is just so special in ways
much beyond the power and beauty of his voice. While I am on this
subject, two other songs he recorded also have the same effect on me:
"The Thrill is Gone" and "Hills of Home" ( I know you do not care for
the latter, but it makes me homesick every time I hear it.)"
And my reply:
Hi Joe: I don't actually dislike Mario's rendition of The Hills of
Home, though I do prefer the unreleased broadcast version to the
alternate take that's been released on LP ("The Touch of Your Hand")
and CD ("You'll Never Walk Alone" and "Original Album Classics"). For
one thing, the ending is better on the broadcast version. But I have
to say that the song itself doesn't do a lot for me melodically, and
it never really "peaks".
In fact (the ending aside), some of the things that bother me about
the commercial version are, if anything, accentuated on the broadcast
version. RCA *did* release the better take in this instance.
Incidentally, the released version sounds the best I've heard it on
the new Original Album Classic release (on "The Touch of Your Hand"
disc). Check it out, Joe: you'll be very happy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhozLVGJQnA&feature=related
Siepi has a great voice, but the song still doesn't do much for me. Sorry, Joe!
If you'd like to post a comment on this thread, please click on
"reply" to **this** post, rather than the earlier ones; otherwise the
thread will automatically revert to its original title.
A year or so later, I learned that having a song or tune stuck in
one's head is a phenomenon that afflicts 99% of the people at one time
or other. It even has several names. Psychoanalyst and author Theodor
Reik, who was haunted by the chorale in Mahler's Resurrection
symphony, calls it "haunting melody." Some researchers refer to it as
"stuck song syndrome," "repetunitis," "audio virus," and a variety of
other terms, but it is best known (somewhat creepily so) as an
"earworm," so called because the song seems to "crawl in" through
one's ears and burrow in one's brain. Some people are reportedly able
to rid themselves of earworms by singing or listening to "eraser
tunes," songs or tunes that have a seemingly magical ability to get
other songs out of one's head. The catch is that the eraser tune can
become the next earworm.
Want to know more about the song-stuck-in-your-head phenomenon? Here's
a link for starters:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2006/jun/22/popandrock
Recently, my haunting song is Senza Nisciuno, particularly the
repeated
Che malasciorte, ahimé!
Sulo,
senza nisciuno...
e tu...
tu morta si' pe' me...
tu morta si' pe' me...
No particular reason; its an extraordinarily profound, yet restrained
cry, with beautiful phrasing and it just sticks. Best, Lee Ann