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Today, after some time, I decide to go to the usual little shop in search of some records.
A desire for vintage-flavored melancholy. With the same money, I could have gotten a nice best of old Frank (maybe with Drinkin' Again), but this cover catches my eye, screaming "Andy Warhol!" from every corner.
One (of many) collection of fourteen tracks written by different authors (Newman, Robin, Roberts, to name a few) interpreted by Monroe for the soundtracks of her famous films.
Jazz arrangements and lyrics about distant loves, diamonds, and nostalgia that are firmly entrenched in pop culture from post-war to today, needing no introduction.
The German label Popcorn flaunts its logo on the cover and a brief presentation in the booklet of the blonde.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I think nothing is sadder than a fake smile.
Everyone talked about her, praised her beauty, and admired her many facets. But not everything that glitters is gold, and just a look at two or three photos will tell you. How much insecurity and sadness were her eyes, the eyes of the "diva," trying to hide.
The dumb blonde of Hollywood movies became mega-millionaire, and her iconic poses made the girl a mass object. Yes, object.
She was also tired, but fame has such a high price that even her death was shrouded in an annoying aura of fake mystery (she killed herself, let's stop seeking absurd truths in the departure of rock stars and actors). Brian Jones drowned high in a swimming pool, and Cobain shot himself in the head, and in any case, the vultures fed on their remains.
It seems a cliché to talk about Marilyn Monroe today, but I still believe that some nice tracks in this compilation (I'm through with love my favorite) stand out.
It's sad to hear that diamonds are a girl’s best friend or that every lady needs a "daddy." After all, these are songs written in the first half of the last century, when people's mentality was very different from today.
I believe that the exaltation of a character in the collective imagination should happen in the right proportions and with the right dynamics.
I like to think that Monroe had fun recording these songs, maybe she liked singing, maybe not.
The usual story and presentation were always expected from Monroe, and I think anyone would have unplugged at a certain point, but in this case, such was the extent of her alter ego that it wouldn't have been possible.
She was called baby face and made up like a whore.
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