“I discovered the album quite by accident in 1981 when, drawn to the George Hurrell cover and my love for Melissa, I rented it from the East Brunswick Public Library and played the song over and over one day when I was home from school with a bad cold. I recall so vividly how the song transported me from dolorous East Brunswick, New Jersey and, for that single day that I played the song continuously, I soared across America—from Detroit to Des Moines—on a magic carpet woven of Melissa’s mellifluous vibrato and DayQuil.”
What is it about this song that makes it so enduring? Perhaps it’s the way its simple, relatable lyrical concept is married to its emotionally elegiacal melody. Like most great songs, it’s hard to imagine the lyrics and melody existing apart from each other—as if they were created as one. Because “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” translates so well from genre to genre, language to language, and decade to decade, it has become one of the great copyrights—a published song with multiple recordings—of its era (or any era, for that matter).
“By seeding money to nearly every reputable LGBT-related not-for-profit, from the Elton John AIDS Foundation, to amFar. These organizations and those that benefit from their work, know that they have a friend in Ivan Wilzig.”
“Streisand’s support of Abzug culminated that year in her headlining the “Broadway for Bella” concert at Madison Square Garden’s Felt Forum on November 1, 1970. My dear friend John Richkus, whom I’ve known since the early 1980s, recently reminded me that he actually went to the “Broadway for Bella” concert. I was fascinated as he shared his memories of how he attended the concert by himself, not just because it was full of anecdotal theater lore, but also because as he told me the story, I realized it was a turning point in his life; you see John was only thirteen years old in November, 1970.”
“Liza was still in her fine mid-1990s post-Betty Ford fighting form, but Luciano is just a quivering lump of bearded vibrato.”
Being a lifelong outsider had informed everything about Lauper’s work, both musical and philanthropic. Her empathy has motivated her tireless work on behalf of the LGBT community over the years, despite being neither L, G, B, or T. She is only “C,” for “Cyndi,” but wholly “one of us.”
In 1978, Ethel’s voice was still as efficient a killing machine as it was in the 1930s. Taking aim on the lovely set decorated for Christmas, Merm launches into the Strouse/Charnin standard with the intensity of a category five hurricane and proceeds to do to Sesame Street in 1978 what Godzilla did to Tokyo in 1956.
“I am so enamored of ‘Something about December’ because of its beautiful melody and simple, heartfelt lyrics. The song and production have an elegance and ease about them. Christina Perri ballad is a wonderful example of the importance of economy in songwriting.”
Ben Platt’s performance is a potent reminder that excellence in vocal performance is about communicating, evoking feeling, and connecting emotionally. Good singing in any context, but especially in the theater, depends on singing well but also to greater or lesser degrees, on skillful acting; Ben Platt is both.
In 1981, at fifteen, I got my first job at a Philly record store called “The Listening Booth.” I flirted with the kinda slimy guy with the coke pinky who worked in the stereo department so he would play the in-store music that I liked. Of course that included Teddy and Rick and Marvin and Prince and my all time heroine, Teena Marie, the one person who made me feel that it was okay to be who I was and respect what I loved. I was asked to leave after I asked stereo guy to play Vaughn Mason’s Jammin’ My Big Guitar in the store. It was Christmas season and it didn’t go over too well with management.