Rant ‘N’ Roll: Sarah Vaughan Forever

You could make a case for Newark’s own Sarah Vaughan [1924-1990] as the greatest American voice of them all. They called her “The Divine One.” On March 29, at the Sarah Vaughan Concert Hall at Newark Symphony Hall, the United States Postal Service honored her legacy by issuing a “Commemorative Forever Stamp.” Live At Rosy’s (Resonance Records), a 2-CD set recorded live in New Orleans with pianist Carl Schroeder, bassist Walter Booker and drummer Jimmy Cobb but unreleased until now includes nearly 90 minutes of what was only supposed to be a one-time only National Public Radio Jazz Alive! broadcast. Instead, it’s an absolute treasure, sure to be savored for generations to come. (The stamp is the seventh in a series after Ray Charles, Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, Janis Joplin, Johnny Cash and Hank Williams.)

“Sassy,” as they called her, attended East Side High School, then Arts High, before making her way to Harlem to sing at the Apollo where her three-octave range brought her to the attention of bandleader Billy Eckstine in 1942 who welcomed her into his big-band. It didn’t take long for her to become a star. In her hands, songs went through dramatic reinterpretations. It’s almost as if she used her own vocabulary. She’d swoop down into a lower register after scatting brilliantly in falsetto or midrange like an acrobat without a net. She knew her powers and she even played with them because if it’s one thing she had over and above her natural gift, was a wicked sense of humor. (They also called her “Sailor” for her profane backstage banter.)

I will never forget the time I saw her live. I do believe it might have been at Barney Josephson’s Cookery in Manhattan. We were right up front. Memory being what it is, the most I can recall about the evening was her excessive sweating. It might have even been on the same tour as the one that landed her at Rosy’s in The Crescent City on May 31, 1978. She was on a roll that year, 54, at the height of her powers, with two new studio albums and gigs galore. Plus, she was in great spirits that night for these 22 songs, maybe because she was in love again. Two weeks later, she’d marry trumpeter Waymon Reed who became her manager.

Highlights abound. A voice/bass duet on “East Of The Sun (And West Of The Moon)” is playful. George and Ira Gershwin’s 1924 “Fascinating Rhythm” is done at breakneck tempo. The other Gershwin is “The Man I Love,” a song she positively owns. The sound on all songs is great, amazing even, when you consider how gigs were recorded back in the day. “Time After Time,” the song Sinatra introduced in his 1947 It Happened In Brooklyn movie, features one of those daring vocal swoops as she descends mightily only to climb back up to the top of her range. It’s a stunning moment and the crowd responds in kind.

From Michel Legrand’s “Watch What Happens” and “A Lot Of Livin’ To Do” from Bye Bye Birdie to Sondheim’s “Send In The Clowns,” Ellington’s 1941 “I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good),” she kills ‘em all. At one point, her oversized personality takes control and after introducing the band, she tells the audience that she is Carmen McRae. And when some drunk mistakenly calls out for “A Tisket A Tasket,” Ella Fitzgerald’s first hit, the band knows it, so she does it. Spending time like this with Sarah Vaughan is like going back in time. Close your eyes and listen.