Monday, February 8, 1999
Odd couple tells true story of jazz band’s earliest days
MUSIC: Love of singing, sensuous lyrics unite lounge performers’
act
By Brent Hopkins
Daily Bruin Staff
The hour grows late, the bottle of whiskey lays drained, and
it’s time to go home. A pair – young, one man, one woman – makes
its way slowly down the street, returning to his apartment. Once
there, they peel off their coats, buoyed by the heady rush of the
booze. Facing one another, they get down to business.
The business of singing, that is.
New York lounge veterans Dave’s True Story, now on a West Coast
tour, had a fairly unusual beginning. Then again, guitarist David
Cantor and singer Kelly Flint are an unusual band.
"I think he thought he was going to get lucky," Flint says.
"Fortunately for me, and I guess maybe fortunately for him, all I
did was learn one of his songs."
From there on in, it’s been an odd ride. Cantor taught Flint to
sing a jazz song, and they decided to give performing a try. Both
had worked as musicians previously but never together as a lounge
duo. But after just a few shows, they realized they had something
special. Cantor’s quirky, intelligent lyrics lent themselves
perfectly to Flint’s softly emotional voice.
Though Flint was initially uncertain whether she could perform
jazz vocals, she found them less daunting than she’d imagined.
"I hadn’t ever really sung standards, I hadn’t listened to Ella
Fitzgerald Billie Holliday, or any of those people," she says. But
once she began to listen to Cantor’s music, though, she was
hooked.
"I found the melodies to be fascinating," Flint says.
At the time, lounge was languishing on the musical back burner.
The laid-back, cabaret style jazz has gained a boost from the
recent nostalgia wave, but Cantor has been writing the classic
tunes since the days before the hype – as far back as 1989, long
before lounge and swing were thrust into the public eye. When he
strode into an open mic night in New York’s Speakeasy club, guitar
in hand, fedoras and leopard skin were still relics of the past.
And though the music wasn’t groundbreaking, it was definitely a
departure from the usual rock songs du jour.
"There was no conscious effort, it was just that I had gone away
from music for a long time and tried to write plays
unsuccessfully," Cantor says. "I started writing these jazz songs,
even though I don’t really have a history of (writing)
standards."
The result was a pleasant one, though.
"Whereas when I tried to write rock songs, it sounded rather
crappy, and (jazz) sounded kind of legitimate. That basically
encouraged me to keep writing that way."
So far, it’s worked. DTS hasn’t gained major fame, but it has
built a loyal following in seven years of working East Coast clubs.
In this time, DTS has also recorded two albums, 1993’s self-titled
release, and 1997’s "Sex Without Bodies." The most recent disc was
released on Chesky Records, but the duo’s first effort was entirely
self-released, with only limited distribution. In fact, the one
market where Kelly and Dave received some of the best reception
seems a little incongruous.
"We killed in Taiwan," Cantor chuckles, referring to the band’s
success there.
The album didn’t fare quite so well here, mainly from the lack
of marketing. Flint estimates the number of copies sold to be in
the thousands, a respectable number for a self-release. Signing to
Chesky, however, has allowed the band to focus on other things.
"It’s been a lot easier for us since we’ve gotten this record
deal," Flint says. "(We’re) able to focus on what really brought us
together in the first place."
That uniting element, of course, is Cantor’s music. Personal,
introspective and sharply witty, the songs are a blend of both
clever lyrics and subtle instrumentation. Though many critics get
caught up in the sexual elements that pervade tunes like the
innuendo-laden "Flexible Man," Cantor’s songs are not merely
limited to passionate lust. They cover a range of topics, from
wistful reflection on a life in its twilight hour, to soured
relationships. The sexual element is hard to ignore in "Flexible
Man," however.
"I can rock you till you sputter/ I can rock you till you ache/
I could cover you with butter/ and feed you apricots and cake,"
Flint sings, oozing sensuality.
Being so sexually frank when performing doesn’t bother her,
though. When asked if singing so openly is uncomfortable in front
of crowds, Flint doesn’t hesitate.
"No, not at all," she says, "the only thing that I do feel
uncomfortable singing, is self-pitying types of lyrics.
Fortunately, that’s not something that Dave tends to write." What
does Cantor focus on, then? The underlying theme of DTS is simple.
There is none.
"We have no message. We just want to have a good time," she
says.
From the sound of things, they certainly are. So long as Cantor
and Flint keep it up, the good times ought to last a little
longer.Chesky Records
Kelly Flint and Dave Cantor make up the lounge band Dave’s True
Story. The band will appear at Luna Park on Feb. 11.
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