Etta James: Something's Got a Hold on Me

To continue a bit of Etta James nostalgia, here's one of her hit songs from 1962 and a 2003 interview reflecting on her career.

Etta James: Something's Got a Hold on Me

Etta James: 2003 CNN interview
(Sorry, no embedding allowed, you'll have to click on the link.)

Cornelius Eady: The Gardenia

I listened this weekend to Etta James' Mystery Lady: Songs of Billie Holiday and it put me in mind of Corneilius Eady's poem about Billie Holiday. I love the anguish of this poem. The wish to take back sadness and pain, to change the course of history. And the realization that, like it or not, our histories--where we come from and the things we go through--shape who we are. They shape what we bring to the world.

The Gardenia
by Cornelius Eady

The trouble is, you can never take
That flower from Billie's hair.
She is always walking too fast
and try as we might,

there's no talking her into slowing.
Don't go down into that basement,
we'd like to scream. What will it take
to bargain her blues,

To retire that term when it comes
to her? But the grain and the cigarettes,
the narcs and the fancy-dressed boys,
the sediment in her throat.

That's the soil those petals spring from,
Like a fist, if a fist could sing.

Etta James: Sunday Kind of Love

Kevin told me over the phone this morning that Etta James died, and my sister emailed to say "I just heard the news...thinking of you guys!" Isn't it funny how the musicians, writers, and artists we love can become such a part of our lives that we think of them almost like family? We carry their words, songs, and images with us into the most important moments of our lives. They become part of our own stories.

In December of 1999, I was finishing up my last year of graduate school. Kevin and I had been dating for a year, but he had finished his degree the previous spring and moved back to Los Angeles. He wanted me to come visit for his birthday, but I (ever frugal and goal-oriented) dragged my feet. It would cost a lot. I had my thesis to finish. Come, he said. It'll be worth it.

When I arrived in L.A., I opened a newspaper and gasped. "Etta James is playing at the House of Blues this weekend!" I cried. "Let's go!" Kevin shook his head and pointed to the SOLD OUT notice stamped on the ad. Besides, he had other plans for that night.

Plans, indeed. First, he took me to a swanky restaurant where I had the most elaborate dessert of my life. A cream puff swan in a pond of caramel next to a chocolate gazebo. I kid you not. It was art of the most delicious kind. And with my dessert, the waiter delivered a sweet anniversary card Kevin had made up ahead of time. Aw.

Then, we went to the Griffith Observatory, my favorite place to visit in L.A. Not only does the park figure prominently in "A Rebel Without a Cause," but it also has the best view in L.A. (you can actually see stars--the real kind), and it has endlessly fascinating scientific games and exhibits. Unfortunately, the Observatory was closing in 15 minutes, so I made a beeline for the scientific games. I wanted to check out at least a couple exhibits and get a look through the telescope before the building closed.

Kevin had other ideas.

In fact, Kevin had been acting weird all night. Sweaty palms, easily distracted. And now he didn't want to look at the scientific games. He wanted to walk up the hill. The hill? But the telescope would be locked up in a matter of minutes! Kevin pulled me away from the crowd so we could look up at the stars. And then he went down on one knee and held out a sparkly ring. Honestly. After a few tearful kisses, we even had time to go look at the moon through the telescope before the park closed.

As we drove home, we neared the House of Blues and I sighed. The night we'd had was better than an Etta James concert, but still...

And that's when Kevin turned into the parking lot. He'd had tickets to the concert all along. We walked in, a new ring on my finger, a flutter in my heart, and listened to Etta James sing. Only she didn't just sing. She crooned, she howled, she poured everything she had into those songs. Honesty, frustration, sadness, and joy. I will never forget that on one of the most important nights of my life, Etta James let it all out for us to share.

“A lot of people think the blues is depressing,” she told The Los Angeles Times in 1992, “but that’s not the blues I’m singing. When I’m singing blues, I’m singing life. People that can’t stand to listen to the blues, they’ve got to be phonies.” (From today's NYT)

Etta James: Sunday Kind of Love

Etta James: Swing Low Sweet Chariot

I had a blast at yesterday's Songs of the Civil War Era concert, despite the fire alarm that went off about 7 minutes into the program (no joke!) We stood outside, shivered, and got to know each other for about 20 minutes and then everyone kindly filed back in to finish the show.

There was a fabulously full, responsive audience of Bowdoin College students, Longfellow Elementary School fifth graders, and members of the local community. They all did a great job singing the popular spiritual "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" in call and response style! There was also a reporter from MPBN there, so I'll keep you posted if all those lovely voices end up on the radio. :)

In thanks to everyone who came and participated (and waited around in the cold), here is a great version of "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" by the imperially soulful Etta James. Enjoy!

Etta James: A Sunday Kind of Love

Happy Valentine's Day!
In honor of the day, I thought I'd share one of the truest love songs I know: A Sunday Kind of Love, sung by the queen of romance, Etta James. Aside from the gorgeous melody and Ms. James' emotional delivery, it's the lyrics I love about this song. It's a pop song about love that isn't all hyped up and idealized and glam. It's simple and true and real. Who doesn't want love like this?

I want a Sunday kind of love
A love to last past Saturday night
I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight
I want a Sunday kind of love

Download from iTunes here

Listen to new Etta James tunes (including her version of "Purple Rain") on the Etta James Official Website

Side note: my husband took me to an Etta James concert the night he proposed to me...smart guy, huh?