Julie London
Julie Is Her Name

<<Mr. Miller? Why you drink so much?>>
<<Just a habit, I suppose>>
<<A giiirl habit?>>
<<Girl!? EHEH, nooo. I have got no girl>>
<<If it was Julie London, she wasn't very bright>>

And indeed he comes home completely drunk, but the London records are already all set up.
And there's absolutely nothing better in the world to recover from a melancholic hangover, dear Mr. Miller, than listening to your fetish woman sing a cold revenge song. Right?

Now you say you're lonely
You cried the long night through

And there she appears like a ghost, sitting in the kitchen while you keep pouring yourself a drink.

Now you say you're sorry
For being so untrue

And no dear, now she looks at you from the couch with a stern gaze and a revealing dress.

You drove me, nearly drove me
Out of my head
While you never shed a tear

She tells you this languorously lying in bed.
With a red lipstick she probably never wore in real life.
You'd like that, huh?

And now you say you love me
Well, just to prove you do

She asks you from the stairs, leaning towards you.
You've never seen that décolleté so close.

Come on and cry me a river
Cry me a river

But is she begging you now? Maybe it's time to wash your face, don't you think?

I cried a river over you

She turns and leaves, fluttering her veils. She disappears, looking at you and repeating that she cried a river of tears for you.
And you're left alone, my dear.

Mr. Miller in the film experiences this song like an erotic dream, in which the subject is a vamp you can't even engage with amidst the alcohol vapors.
Such an impossible love that even one's subconscious sets a brake on it.
And so the wild and lustful love turns into a threat, or rather, the illusion of being threatened for an alleged unfaithfulness to the woman who could never be had.
What torture!

Yet it's precisely this subtle duplicity that makes "Cry Me A River" the monument it is.
And it is precisely through London's interpretation that this song becomes immortal.

What better interpreter than a former Hollywood diva convinced she was on her way to decline, who starts singing almost as a joke, to bring this dangerously decadent and aristocratic sensuality to life?

Julie London's second career begins by chance: she's at home with friends and starts singing as a joke.
But among the friends is also Bobby Troup, who is captivated by her elegant singing and decides (probably in this order):
- to take her to bed
- to make her record an album
Bobby seemed to be a bit more savvy than the film's Mr. Miller because he succeeds in both goals, and the first song Julie London records is "Cry Me A River".
And apparently, London was quite savvy herself, as she manages to take the song from the soundtrack of a film by her husband (probably already unknowingly her ex at that point), which was supposed to be performed by Ella Fitzgerald.
Ella (as in Fitzgerald) would record her version of Cry Me A River years later, but it must be said that there was never a bolder and more successful theft: she would indeed fail to recreate that lascivious and aristocratic duplicity perfectly interpreted by London.

The song clearly becomes a success (after all, we're still talking about it 70 years later) immediately followed by "Julie Is Her Name," her first LP.
A collection of songs where we can find her smooth whispers accompanied by guitar and double bass, which skillfully embellish them with drapery and undoubtedly valuable flights and flourishes.
It's an album overshadowed without doubt by the fame of its most famous song, but still deserves the time for a listen, an interpreter worth remembering.

The album is not only recommended to vocal jazz lovers; indeed, it will probably be more appreciated by those familiar with the rosy satellites reminiscent of Nick Drake.