the rix mix

Night.  Fifties. Long ride back from South Jersey shore or Lake Mohawk. Squeezed between Dad & Mom in the front seat or, when we had a modest station wagon, in the back seat or cargo space. Three older siblings & a small, panting, carsick dog. Dad twiddling with the radio dial. What is he looking for? Operetta? Music from the TV show Victory at Sea?  I catch intriguing snippets of doo wop, R&B, distant baseball games, religious blabbermouths. As often as not Dad turns off the radio in frustration. If he lands on the lovely, evocative "Old Cape Cod" & stays there, I know that's the best we're gonna get. Who wouldn't rather be on Cape Cod instead of riding in this car?

Fifties pop was not generally good. One realizes how exceptional Sinatra's Capitol recordings were, & why Peggy Lee worked so stubbornly to control her career. One appreciates that Count Basie held a band together, changed to the magnificent "atomic" lineup & style. One may even appreciate the pernicious influence of record label executive Mitch Miller & his ilk, wasting the talents of great singers but driving millions of teenagers to embrace rock & roll,

Labels: growing up, music, obituary, video