George Shearing “My Ship”

One of the later (1975) Shearing records in my collection, on the MPS label—it’s all solo piano, standards mostly, a few of them being songs you might be happy not hearing again until the afterlife—but the playing is interesting, at least. I’m not sophisticated enough to talk about it, so I’ll rely on the extensive, uncredited, liner notes (internet says it’s Klaus Scholz). Bring along your reading glasses, and some wine, because they take up nearly the whole back cover in small print—and dry? Actually, not dry, and quite fascinating. For one thing, half of it is a concise bio of George Shearing, pretty good—and especially riveting is the story of the creation of “The Shearing Sound.” I’m not going to paraphrase it here, but as I’ve said before (a million times) it was that unique style and instrumental combination that was the soundtrack to my young life. I can’t help but think if my parents were Beatles or Dylan fanatics, I’d be a very different person—but here we are. The front cover, by the way, doesn’t feature a beautiful woman but rather George behind a reflective, black piano, big dark glasses, loud jacket, and tie. Behind him, large windows open on a night garden in which werewolves no doubt dwell.

The remainder of the liner notes discusses the songs and recordings on this record. Since I can’t do a better job, I’m just going to do a worse one. “My Ship” is a good opener and name for this album—after all, don’t you wish you’d thought of that as a title for your autobiography? (I’m speaking to myself, here—I mean, rather than Schmo from Kokomo.) So, I guess this song was for a Broadway musical called Lady in the Dark (not a bad title, either)—it was written by Kurt Weill. It’s an instrumental here, but I’m guaranteeing that 9 out of 10 people, hearing it for the first time, would say, this song sounds like it should be called: “My Ship.” I guess lyrics were by Ira Gershwin—which maybe I’ll hear someday—but had I written lyrics to a song by that title, they would have been about a guy who’s a domineering regular at a local diner—you know, kind of “big shit on turd island.” “Yesterdays” (Kern/Harbach) I’m oddly familiar with but can’t place, and it’s an overwhelmingly lovely song—certainly this rendition of it. It was recorded by everyone—and I probably have some version or other among my paltry 700 records—but I’m not going to spend the afternoon looking. We have an afternoon of nice music, here (especially if you can get your turntable to repeat), familiar stuff that Shearing’s giving a fresh feel to—with just a fucking piano! There’s a couple of my all-time favorites on the record—“April in Paris” and “Autumn in New York” (has anyone ever written “Autumn in Paris” or “April in New York”??)—as well as a few unmentionables that—if I never hear again (other than the versions here)—I’d be okay. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard George Shearing sing before, but that’s apparently him rendering “Send in The Clowns” (a sentimental favorite, and now my favorite take on it)—and, I don’t know, maybe he continues to sing on every record after this one—the dude made a billion records.

11.1.24