Hello, wonderful readers! To continue and hopefully conclude this melancholic March, let’s look at “It’s a Blue World” by Mel Tormé, an album by a semi-popular and underrated vocalist from the mid-to-late 20th century.
Though his name may not ring a bell, you’ve at least heard one song he wrote with Robert Wells, titled “The Christmas Song.” Popularized by the Nat King Cole Trio, much of Tormé’s legacy is based on this song from when he was 20 years old, yet he has plenty to be proud of apart from it.
“It’s a Blue World” is one of Tormé’s first albums, recorded a decade after he and Wells penned “The Christmas Song.” I emphasize his role as a songwriter because this album, and most of his other ones, see him covering already-written songs by famous musicians like Duke Ellington. This was the standard for singers of the day, as it was rare for an artist to take on both roles of songwriter and singer in tandem.
Now that we’ve covered our bases, “It’s a Blue World” begins with “I Got It Bad (and That Ain’t Good).” A 20-second orchestral introduction leads into Tormé’s soothing vocals, as the sad strings spotlight the song’s title on the first quatrain.
In the developed verse later in the song, the woodwinds are in their own world while Tormé drags out the word “crying” and rushes “Make her love me,” giving urgency to the request. The orchestra comes to a resolution a little over two minutes in with cymbals, bringing a final minute of calm before strings close the track.
The whimsical “Till the Clouds Roll By” is more stable mood-wise than the previous song, but Tormé trills the phrase “Helter skelter” in such a way that it had to have telepathically communicated with Paul McCartney to one day write the Beatles’ 1968 hit. On a more serious note, “Isn’t It Romantic?” finds Tormé in tune with the orchestra once again, my favorite part being when it stops before he sings “romance” instead of “romantic,” highlighting the change in tone by the speaker.
“All This and Heaven” earns its spot on the record for its mentions of “the moon in the blue” and “Sweet to my ear is the song every bluebird sings.” I appreciate the song structure when Tormé sings “by the dew;” he starts the phrase off high and the strings respond by reaching high notes. And I generally don’t mind “It’s a Blue World” featuring no original lyrics, but I’m sure Tormé could’ve conjured up something better than “I know how Columbus felt / Finding another world” on “How Long Has This Been Going On?”
The best usage of the harp on the record is in “Polka Dots and Moonbeams.” A triangle and woodwind burst onto the scene when the speaker first sees the polka dots and moonbeams, stylistically reminiscent of many moments from Gustav Holst’s “The Planets” by underscoring some epiphany. I love the collaborative work of composer Tommy Dorsey and Frank Sinatra, yet their version of the song pales in comparison to Tormé’s heartfelt rendition.
“You Leave Me Breathless” contains potent lyricism that Tormé delivers with such nuance, “That little grin of yours, that funny chin of yours / Means so much to my heart.” Details like these are easy to overlook in a person but culminate in this effect of leaving one breathless when they’re recognized.
“Million Dollar Baby,” not to be confused with Tommy Richman’s hit, is the most impassioned cut on “It’s a Blue World.” The barebones yet intimate acoustic balladry at the two-minute mark makes one wonder how Tormé would be perceived today if he went the singer-songwriter route.
Tormé matches the energy of the tragic title track’s lyrics, singing longingly, “My days and nights that once were filled with heaven / With you away, how empty they have grown.” Songs from an earlier era in the same lyrical vein often have contrasting attitudes when the vocalist is lamenting and the orchestra is going crazy style, so I bond with this track’s consistent low spirits.
As with last week’s record, “Pink Moon” by Nick Drake, the outro track is more uplifting than everything that preceded it. “Stay as Sweet as You Are” echoes the sentiment of “Never change” as Tormé throws in some humming and “da-da-da-dum” for good measure. With 12 tracks totaling 42-and-a-half minutes, “It’s a Blue World” accomplishes what it needs to, and quickly.
Tormé doesn’t have the resumé of his peers. Nevertheless, he’s a damn good singer, maintaining quite the ear for his own pitch and the orchestral accompaniments alongside him. He passed at the turn of the 21st century, so even if most people only know him for roasting chestnuts on an open fire, it’s a miracle that modern listeners can still enjoy the labor of love that is Mel Tormé’s music career.