Chet Baker

I haven't paid much attention to Chet Baker.  I knew him mostly as the trumpeter who slid from prominence to the abyss of drug-induced stupor.  I had vaguely heard his songs, so when I heard his rendition of I Get Along Without You Very Well being played in Harbor City, I reached out for a copy of the CD compilation.  He wasn't as well known as Louis Armstrong or Charlie Parker, but his singing style, almost like a phrased narrative, struck me with a positive chord.  The Thrill is Gone, Time After Time, My Funny Valentine and Someone to Watch Over Me are just some of the standards that he sings with relative ease. The delivery isn't studied, comes across as like singing to oneself, which is in line with the fact that Baker didn't read notes, and played oido.  But the one song in the compilation that haunts me is The Night We Called It A Day, which is painful to listen to, almost grieving in tone and character.  Such a pity that the man slumped into decadence, but still, the world is richer with his music.