My passion for singers and their songs from the 1920s and 30s baffles my classically-minded friends. I won’t even try to explain it – they just hit me – hard – in a whole different place from Puccini or Bach.
Those French chanteuses whose influence was so evident later in the singing of Edith Piaf. And Marlene Dietrich (but only in her early days and only in German). And oh – Mae West – seriously, she was sensational – the archetypal bad girl.
But today, let’s talk about the one – the only – the original red hot mamma – Miss Sophie Tucker (1884-1966). In fact, give me a spangly frock & feather fascinator and I’ll sit right down at the piano and do one of her numbers for you…
One of my mother’s favourite songs was My Yiddishe Momme and I realise now that it was Sophie singing it. Now, Mother knew not a schmidish of Yiddish and if her Presbyterian soul had known of Miss Tucker’s background, she’d maybe have reconsidered. But that’s where I first heard Sophie Tucker.
Later, I bought the sheet music (with English words) and sang it to death, bashing out those sentimental chords on the piano. But only in private. I’ve harboured a longing for a long time to get out there – in some old fashioned fleapit of a bar – and sing those songs, but of course I never will. Besides, Bette Midler got there first – and oh boy can that girl sing!
Now I have a few 78s of the lady herself. I wish I had more. They’re perfect for mechanical sound – on CD she can sound anodyne. On shellac, it’s like you’re sitting at the nearest table to the bar and Sophie’s perched up there on the mahogany, belting it out.
Here she is singing what was to become her signature number – Some of These Days – on the original cylinder recording of 1911. I’ve heard this played on a contemporary phonograph – fabulous. The 78 I have is the 1926 version with Ted Lewis, which is much smoother. I admit I prefer the rawness of the original – after all, raw and punchy was what Sophie did best!
Life begins at forty is half-spoken and you can just see that raised eyebrow, the hand on hip – once a vaudevillian, always a vaudevillian. It’s teamed with the classic Gershwin The man I love which we more commonly associate with Billie Holliday. Sophie manages it surprisingly well – it’s not Billie but it’s good and original. So too is Bill, from what was then the smash hit Broadway musical - Showboat. It’s proof that she couldn’t only do red-hot but sweet & straight too.
But it’s Yiddishe momme that I play again and again. Side one is sung and in English and Sophie wrings every ounce of emotion from it without piling on the schmaltz. On the other side, the band plays the song and Sophie speaks the words – in Yiddish. Outstanding.
