About the only LPs I’ve saved are those disastrously bad personality platters like A Dramatic Reading With Music (MGM), Sebastian Cabot’s 1967 hilariously pompous interpretations of Bob Dylan songs. Then there’s Way Out West (Tower), Mae West’s campy rock ‘n’ roll album, on which the aged comedy legend croaks out “Day Tripper.” Shakespeare, Tchaikovsky & Me (MGM) was Jayne Mansfield’s fabulously bizarre recitation of poetry and sonnets. And, of course, who can forget the notorious 1968 William Shatner album The Transformed Man (Decca). Captain Kirk mangles “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds,” “Mr. Tambourine Man,” and others. But there are some other ludicrous celebrity CDs out there that could clear a party just as fast.
Edward Furlong, Hold On Tight (Pony Canyon) One of two pop CDs the young Terminator 2 star was probably mortified into making, mercifully only available in Japan. With bouncy boy band tunes like “Give Your Heart To Me” and “I’ll Be Waiting,” he even does his own frighteningly atonal take on the Doors’ “People Are Strange” and closes with “It’s Christmas Time” (“under the mistletoe….we’ll kiss goodnight…because it’s Christmas time.”)
Tony Perkins, On A Rainy Afternoon (RCA) Norman Bates sings! A reprint of the 1958 album by Anthony Perkins, who actually had a musical theater background and sang on Broadway. He’s got a nice tenor voice (if a tad dull) and sings such standards as “I Remember You,” “Why Was I Born?” and Cole Porter’s “Miss Otis Regrets.” Why is it that you expect him to cry out “Mother! Mother! BLOOD! BLOOD!” in the middle of every song?
Maya Angelou, Miss Calypso (Scamp Records) Famed African-American poetess (I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings) cut this oddity in 1957 (at the height of calypso fever) described as “a liberal sprinkling of Afro-Cuban, with a dash of blues mixed together with delicate jazz.” More Tracy Chapman than Harry Belefonte, Angelou gets down with songs like “Run Joe,” “Mambo In Africa,” and “Stone Cold Dead In The Market,” and it’s recorded in “Spectra-Sonic-Sound!” Day-O!!!
Judy Garland Speaks! (Mad Deadly…) The notorious audio-tapes poor doomed songbird Judy Garland made in a vain attempt to write a book. Taped during the end of her life in the dead of night, fueled by pills and liquor, most of it is wild, angry harangues against ex-husband Sid Luft. “He’s a thief…a blackmailer…a sadist!” whom she wished into “the La Brea Tar Pits!” There are proud mama cooings over children Liza, Lorna and Joey, and heartbreaking admissions: “I tried my damnedest to believe in the rainbow that I tried to get over and I couldn’t…so WHAT.” “I’ve pleased your children, I’ve pleased your wives, I’ve pleased you- you sons of bitches!” she rails. This torturous two-CD set should come with a straight razor to cut your wrists after listening to it.
John Travolta Sings (Varesse Sarabande) Speaking of torture, this compilation of two albums John Travolta made in the 1970s, during the height of his Barbarino popularity in TV’s Welcome Back, Kotter. His bubblegum vocals on songs like “I Don’t Know What I Like About You,” “Never Gonna Fall In Love again,” and “Let her In” will have everyone wondering if this album is used to brainwash Scientology recruits by forcing new members to listen to it repeatedly until they, screaming, promise to pledge lifetime loyalty just to shut it off.
Miss Bette Davis (DRG) What queen talked the great actress into doing this? Bette Davis could burn a hole in the screen with her blazing intensity, but when she sings standards like “Until It’s Time For You To Go,” you really want to jump out the window. Mercifully there are campy cover versions of Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? and Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte, and a dramatic reading from All About Eve. Boy, would I have liked to have been a fly on the wall watching the musician’s faces accompanying her in a studio during the recording of this aural nightmare.
Orson Welles, I Know What It Is To be Young (But You Don’t Know What It Is To be Old) (Crescendo Records) Yes, the legendary director of Citizen Kane sings two songs (actually just dramatically reciting the lyrics, backed by the Ray Charles Singers and the Nick Perito Orchestra). That familiar deep voice melodiously croons: “So my friend, let’s make music together…I’ll play the old while you sing me the new.” Let’s not.
Leona Anderson, Music To Suffer By (Trunk Records) This astounding album was made in 1958, way before irony was popular, ushering in questionable talents like Mrs. Miller and Tiny Tim. Leona Anderson (1885-1973) was a silent film star and best remembered as the scary blind housekeeper in House On Haunted Hill. Anderson cut a comedy record Fish and sang it on TV, which led to this studio recording. It’s filled with bizarre songs like “Limburger Lover,” a croaking version of “I Love Paris” and the unforgettable “Rats In My Room,” with these lyrics: “Rats in my room- I can’t face all those rats in my room. I’m afraid that I’ll go bats in my room. Because of all those nasty rats in my room. Rats, rats, rats, rats!”
Jack Webb, Just The Tracks Ma’am: The Warner Brothers Recordings (Rhino Handmade) Famous for his monotone performance as Sgt. Joe Friday on the long-running TV cop series Dragnet, Webb was an avid jazz fan. Supposedly he owned over 6,000 jazz records. His talk-sing versions of standards like “When Sunny Gets Blue,” “I Thought About Marie,” “But Beautiful” conjure up a playboy sitting in his bathrobe before a roaring fire with a pipe in one hand and a martini in the other. But his version of Otis Redding’s “Try A Little Tenderness” is so hilariously wrong it’s right.
Ann-Margret (1961-1966) (Bear Family records) An amazing (and preposterously pricey) box set from Germany of the musical work of Ann-Margret. Five CDs cover her entire professional output through the 1960s, singing with Al Hirt, in the musical Bye Bye Birdie, and duets with Elvis Presley in Viva Las Vegas. It comes with a hardcover photo book with text by Todd Everett charting the talented redhead’s incredible career. This was a gift I received one Christmas that I love to pull out to astonish my friends. It practically cries out, “Just how much Ann-Margret can you stand?”
I have the Orson Welles single, which I found at a thrift store some time ago. I have a thing for novelty records and when famous folk sing them then all the better. I recommend any of the “Golden Throats” compilations to anyone who wants to dip their toe into celebrity songs. I must mention an other favourite of mine, Jack Palance singing “Meanest Guy That Ever Lived”. Gets me every time. 🙂