Leon Redbone – Think of Me, Thinking of You
Leon Redbone – Think of Me, Thinking of You
Instantly as recognizable for his gravelly baritone as for his trademark fedora and sunglasses, Leon Redbone’s style is probably best described as neo-vaudeville. He mines nostalgic veins of jazz and ragtime and country and blues and popular song (back when that meant Kern and Porter instead of Lennon and McCartney) and melds them into a pleasing, laid-back jambalaya. He is also so fiercely protective of his privacy that nobody knows much about where he came from or how. Rumor also has it that his distinctive physical persona is purely disguise. Instead of having to go out in a hat and shades to avoid being recognized in public, he sheds his hat and shades when he gets off stage and nobody recognizes him.
Redbone records some wonderful old-timey music, perfect for sittin’ on the porch and sippin’ a lemonade to. Unfortunately, I don’t have much time these days for lemonade, so I don’t listen to his music much anymore. Plus, I hate to say it, but it all starts to sound kind of the same after a while. Not that there aren’t perfect gems to be found in his catalogue. My favorite album of his is the polished and infectious Red to Blue, which covers his takes on New Orleans Dixieland (Salty Dog), blues (Steal Away Blues), and country (Hank Williams’ hit Lovesick Blues, which features a spoken conversational intro with Hank Williams Jr.).
Although I first heard of him through a fellow dancer at Interlochen (Andrew), I didn’t take to him until Eric turned me on to this album while I was visiting him once from Hampshire, several years later. I had just recently broken through some stylistic stereotypes that were preventing me from enjoying whole genres of music (like country), and I was captivated by these silky songs and the reassuring delivery of the singer. Red to Blue features a great call-and-response track with the Roches (Reaching for Someone and Not Finding Anyone There) and one of the most wistfully beautiful songs of all time, the album closer, Think of Me, Thinking of You.
Hot on him after this album, I bought his next album, No Regrets, when it came out, during the spring of my last year at Hampshire. It became one of the most played albums in the very early days of my relationship with G. As that summer faded and we prepared to go our separate ways (she was off to England for grad school, I was headed back to New York for god knows what reason – mostly that I had some friends there and I didn’t need a car), No Regrets took on a bittersweet flavor (like the Nylons' One Size Fits All). Hearing in it the coming demise of our relationship, it became a powerful totem of sadness to come, especially his version of Elvis Presley’s chestnut, Are You Lonesome Tonight. That album soaked up so much despair that, to this day, neither G nor I can listen to it.
Leon’s reputation was somewhat tarnished for me when he started doing ad jingles, most recognizably in an All detergent campaign. If he was such a principled, quietly dignified, private person, what the hell was he doing hawking laundry detergent? But I guess being a principled, quietly dignified, private person doesn’t get the bills paid (hell, I know that from experience), so I guess I shouldn’t begrudge him taking a little green from a deep-pocketed sponsor.
I had the pleasure of seeing Leon Redbone perform once, in a small room in an old, luxurious Roosevelt hotel in Los Angeles. It was everything I expected – extremely low-key, with deadpan anecdotes and corny old jokes. No wailing, no thrashing, no inciting the crowd, Redbone harked back to a mythical gentler time, when life was kinder and slower, and people sang real songs with real melodies and played real instruments. It was all so civilized and when it was over, we floated out into the warm night, basking in the nostalgic glow of a time gone by that never was.