Soon after "The Sopranos" debuted, HBO held a symposium with the creators and talent that was, needless to say, jam-packed. James Gandolfini, aka Tony Sorpano, talked about his own Italian-American upbringing, remarking "I was taught to judge people based on their shoes."
Call me naive, but when my Midwestern-Jewish wife heard the comment, she thought it was hysterical and absurd. I, the son of a New York Italian mother raised in L.A.'s suburbs, thought it was generational rather than an ethnic tick. Besides, I was also taught to look at the watch, too.
The same holds true for Louis Prima. When the film "Big Night"; was released in 1998, any number of people - even those who loved the film - responded, "who's Louis Prima" or questioned how big a deal Prima might be.
Seeing as how Prima was one of the single biggest-selling artists of the pre-rock 'n' roll era, one would think that his name would flow off the tongue as easily as the names Sinatra and Bennett. In truth, though, Sinatra's fans were the youths of the '30s and '40s; Bennett's name held forth in the trinity in Astoria, Queens, in the 1950s and then North Beach come 1962 but nothign like he has enjoyed over the last decade and a half. It was Prima, though, who united the generations - and he kicked his career into second gear at time when Mussolini was the most famous Italian name in the world.
The reintroduction of Prima to American culture - via David Lee Roth, Brian Setzer and the Gap - has always felt steps away from the depth of his artistry. Keely Smith restored some of that spirit in a recent album that took her back to Las Vegas in 1958 and re-created their shows of the time. The substance there, however, related to Keely as she was coming into her own, drawing raves for her singing and comedic timing. She and Prima would be among the winners at the first-ever Grammy Awards at the time.
The spirit of Smith and Prima is on display in a delightful show receiving its world premiere at L.A.'s Sacred Fools Theater. I think it has tremendous potential; the LA Weekly thinks it's great as is.
Anyone who sees it - provided they entered as a fan of the singers - should see that this is an era of multiple untold stories: The effect of rock 'n' roll on anyone who made a living playing music prior to its arrival, specifically the jazz players stuck in a post-big band, post-bebop world in desperate need of visionaries. The pop and country worlds, too, were fraying and R&B, beyond Ray Charles, was in a transition from the big voices to the smooth harmonies. It's much like today: stars of a decade ago are no longer employable at their star levels and modern pop music is driven by songs rather than artists.
Prima stood tall in that era and he got there through perseverance and dedication to both craft; and his audience as "Louis and Keely Live at the Sahara"; Keely revisited the era with her "Vegas '58 - Today"; album in 2005 - she is now working on an album of duets - and Prima's work gets in due in sots through reissues of the earliest jazz work, the Capitol years and the later records. Those are strong bodies of work, it's not just "Jump, Jive and Wail."
That was a tough time that history has treated as some sort of paranoid wasteland. WWII ends and over time they become the greatest generation; JFK, the Beatles, the Pill and protests define the next set.
Pop culture, meanwhile, locks in the artists from the years between V-Day and Elvis's initial hits in iconographic poses that represent a single trait. Marlon Brando, the picture of toughness, gets reduced to shouting "Stella" in a sweat-stained T-shirt and complaining about his lack of a boxing career; Jackie Gleason, the Great One, is stuck in a loop of a wordless stammer; James Dean is commercialized cool, celebrated for the way he stood rather than his acting talent. Too often they are used strictly as symbols of a time or a mood - Chet Baker, anyone? - and not given their due as artists. Count Prima in that class.
The amount of dissertation spent on the artistry of the late 1940s/early '50s; pales in comparison to all the nooks and crannies of WWII and the '60s that have been explored. The retelling of history of that period has never thoroughly come down from the top shelf of Sinatra, Brando, Ed Sullivan, Walt Disney, Ike, Charlie Parker and Brother Ray. We're stuck looking at that period through mythology, the "Happy Days" and "American Hot Wax"; versions. It makes show like "Louis & Keely" that much more important.

Went to three concerts and saw six acts to take the year's tally to 66/183 in my quest to hit 100 concerts/300 acts.