My first introduction to Randy Newman,
as a 13 year old boy of diminutive stature,
was “Short People,” and then, probably
decades later, it was “You Got A Friend
in Me,” the soundtrack tune for the
Toy Story film. And then, sometime after
that, it came to my attention that Randy
Newman was a significant figure, not
just because of a couple of hits, but for an
entire catalog and career of award-winning,
highly influential work in music composition
for record and for film, and at some point,
around 2011, with the release of The Randy
Newman Songbook, Volume One, I decided to take
the plunge. It was one of those situations.
I just felt, more than any kind of strong
attraction to his stuff, like he might be a
missing part of my pop music education.
After a couple of CD’s in the collection from
his 21st century output and a renewed
appreciation for Newman’s craft,
mostly as a skillful lyricist who could just
as easily pull off the romantic love song as
he could the biting satire and social commentary,
along with his fascinating point of view experiments,
I picked up three used classic LP’s from the 70’s
to round out my Newman experience.
I don’t remember the last time I spun these
records all the way through. It’s even possible
that I filed them away in the collection without
a single listen. Outside of the hits and the tunes
from these albums that he rerecorded for the
Songbook collection, I find the songs on these
albums almost entirely new to me, and again,
still, what strikes me most is the literary aspect
first, and the wide stylistic musical turns next,
from the show tune to the ballad to the jazz
to the rock to the orchestral–musically there’s
rarely a dull moment despite the fact that it only
occasionally moves me in a serious way.
When it does move me, mostly toward laughter
but sometimes hitting a deeper, more serious
vein, I am reminded of the genius here. Even
though his singing voice is reminiscent of a
drunken uncle telling stories at the bar,
there is a wealth of intelligence and humor
in Newman’s music, there is a weightiness
to it, a hefty sophistication. I recognize his
greatness, even though I know these are records
that won’t get spun repeatedly. I am happy to
have them in my collection.
Notes on the vinyl editions: Sail Away, Reprise Records, 1972, black vinyl, used in good condition; Little Criminals, Warner Brothers Records, 1977, black vinyl, used in good condition; Born Again, Warner Brothers Records, 1979, used cut-out copy purchased for $1 in good condition.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 