I’M ALWAYS DRUNK IN SAN FRANCISCO by Carmen McRae (Atlantic, 1968)

Here’s my San Francisco story: In the 1980s, Chemayne and I went there on our honeymoon, spending a week before flying to Hawaii. We stayed at The Red Victorian, a reconverted townhouse in the Haight run by a dedicated, middle aged hippie, Sammy Sun-Child. It was adjacent to the Red Vic movie house, where you lounged on comfortable couches and ate homemade delicacies. The movie that week was Meryl Streep’s Dingo ate my baby film “Cry in the Dark”. We made the pilgrimage, and had martinis at John’s Grill, the legendary steakhouse where Dashiell Hammett wrote The Maltese Falcon. It was a week lovingly emblazoned on my memory forever.

This song evokes these ruminations. The piano playing chanteuse, Carmen McRae weaves a sophisticated memoir of ironic delight, and I am in the throes of her conjurations. I discovered the tune on an obscure Atlantic box set entitled The Ertegun’s New York: New York Cabaret Music, meant to memorialize that special, hoity-toity Manhattan crowd, and it’s mythic entertainers. This version was released on the label’s 1968 album “Portrait of Carmen”, arranged and conducted by Benny Carter, in a much more fleshed out version.

Carmen, who started off aspiring to be like her mentor, Billie Holiday, perfected her own brand of behind the beat phrasing and ironic interpretation, finding her unique voice and style as a story teller of the first rank, honed by way of a disciplined acting training, which led to her success in the worlds of Cabaret, television, and film.