The following post has nothing to do with violent death, cannibalism, or hideous savagery...

Because I find it hard to focus on those things now that I own the Complete Ella Fitzgerald Song Books box set. It’s 16 long, luxurious compact discs of Ella singing Cole Porter, Duke Ellington, Howard Arlen, the Gershwins, and a whole bunch of others. Generally, I don’t have much affection for anything that might be considered a “showtune” (and don’t get me started on the Rent soundtrack, which is an appalling affront to all that is decent and non-sucky in music), but here we have wonderful, classy songs made even better by Ella’s brilliant interpretations. The music is, for the most part, elaborately arranged–washes of strings, bursts of brass, the whole bit. This is something that a person like me–raised on punk rock–has to get used to, but it’s worth the effort when the rewards are so great. Still, I think the Duke Ellington discs (all three of them!) Give the set a bit of variety. These recordings are, by comparison, unpolished and wild. They seem more improvised and far, far looser. In them, we are able to see different dimensions of Ella’s genius. We can hear her as the vital jazz performer, not just America’s greater interpreter of popular music. It is a range that’s breathtaking, and every minute of it is a joy.

I’m totally in love with this thing and I’ve only listened to about a fourth of it so far. The next few days promise a whole lot of happy listening, that’s for sure...