Blue, Almost
When Elvis C. Met Chet B.
The trumpeter and vocalist Chet Baker first came to fame on the strength of a ballad, “My Funny Valentine,” introduced by composers Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart in 1937. Near the end of his career, four decades later, Baker became associated with another ballad, “Almost Blue,” this one written by Elvis Costello in 1982. Both tunes elicited gorgeous performances from the ill-fated Baker — though considerably more of the former, as he seemed obliged to revisit “Valentine,” his calling card, nearly every time he took the stage. Judging from the myriad recordings he left of the song, Baker clearly had a genuine affection for this skillfully wrought composition— a tune that became his calling card after he recorded it as a member of Gerry Mulligan’s quartet in 1953.
The handful of recordings of “Almost Blue” that have surfaced since Baker’s death in 1988 demonstrate a similar affection. Little wonder: The Costello song was written specifically with Baker in mind.
The two artists’ paths first crossed in 1982, early in Costello’s career. I remember reading about Costello’s admiration for Baker and how the then-celebrated though not yet iconic jazzman had influenced his singing. I initially dismissed this as a rock-star affectation on Costello’s part, but I have since revised that knee-jerk judgment. Baker and Costello shared similar qualities as singers. Each was forced to make the most of a limited vocal range and modest technical resources. Although Costello didn’t possess the poignant, androgynous tone that had made Baker a sensation, he did absorb Baker’s resourceful rhythmic cunning into his own style. And while, to his great credit, Costello never tried to sound overtly “jazzy,” he shaped his vocal phrasing in a manner that echoed Baker’s economy and pinpoint expressiveness. You can detect this influence as early as “Alison,” Costello’s signature ballad from his 1977 debut album, My Aim Is True.
In 1982, Costello and producer Clive Langer enlisted Baker to add trumpet obbligatos and a compact solo to “Shipbuilding,” a piercingly understated protest song about the Falklands War, that Costello and Langer co-wrote. The song appeared the following year on Costello’s album Punch the Clock.
“Almost Blue” was also born that year. An artist who seems to thrive on continual challenges, Costello set himself the task of writing a ballad specifically inspired by Baker — one that, in Costello’s ideal scenario, Baker himself might perform. The source material, as Costello has acknowledged, was Baker’s recording of “The Thrill Is Gone” from the 1954 album Chet Baker Sings. (The 1931 pop song should not be confused with B.B. King’s signature blues anthem of the same name.)
“Almost Blue” found a home on Costello’s 1982 album Imperial Bedroom. The song clearly draws on “The Thrill Is Gone” as a melodic and harmonic model, but the lyrical conceits are pure Costello: “Flirting with this disaster became me / It named me as the fool who only aimed to be / Almost blue.”
Costello eventually got the song to Baker, and in time his dream was realized. By 1987, when director Bruce Weber was shooting his Baker bio-fantasia, Let’s Get Lost, Baker was performing the song. There is a touching version in the film, but the performance that Baker fans (myself included) cherish appears on Chet Baker in Tokyo, a superb live album recorded less than a year before his death. Baker is in excellent form as both horn player and singer, and his quartet — with the fine pianist Harold Danko —responds in kind.
Danko’s sensitive accompaniment to Baker’s stark, achingly beautiful trumpet reading of Costello’s melody reveals their shared respect for the song. Danko follows with a delicate improvisation suggestive of Bill Evans at his early best. Then Baker returns, bringing the song to melancholy life through his singing. The intimacy of his delivery is startling; he sounds as if he were confiding this tale of shattered romance to a handful of listeners perched on bar stools, rather than addressing a full concert hall. As the performance nears its conclusion, he reaches for the high notes and, almost daring us to doubt him, nails them.
A masterpiece. Elvis should be proud.