There’s a musicians’ joke that goes something like this: “How
many jazz singers does it take to sing ‘My Funny Valentine’ [or ‘Summertime’ or
‘(Get Your Kicks on) Route 66’ or ‘All of Me’]?”
Answer: “Apparently all of them.”
Bah-dum-dum.
Only it’s no joke. Too many singers, and wannabees, go right to
the tiredest of tunes in the Great American Songbook. It’s not that these are
bad songs. Far from it. But the new purveyors show NO imagination. And most
times they’re doing the great tunes an injustice.
They fail to seek out and freshen other excellent songs that
they can identify with, illuminate and present to ears who might like to hear
something different. Something that may have bypassed the listeners’ own radar
screens, or something they loved but haven’t heard in a while. A singer's failure
to do that is lazy - and insulting to his/her audience.