In times of upheaval, I lean on touchstones–works of art that have shaped me and the continue to be sources of inspiration, influence, and solace. It might be rereading a favorite novel, a cherished poem, a movie, or (especially often) a favorite album with a good pair of headphones.
I came by a love of Tom Lehrer naturally – my father is also a big fan, and his sister and brother-in-law heard Lehrer play live in clubs around Harvard when they were all students there in the early ’50s.
So I grew up with Tom Lehrer, and my exposure to his three classic albums was an important part of my musical-comedic development in my teens. I memorized each of the albums – the tunes, lyrics, and even the patter and spoken introductions. I was borderline-obsessed.
In college, I heard several voice majors included his classic “Masochism Tango” as a “lighter” song near the end of their junior or senior recitals. I was pleased but secretly felt that they had chosen one of his less-interesting pieces. For me, the magic of Tom Lehrer is in his brilliantly witty lyrics, and especially the multiple levels of musical and lyrical references. For example, consider his clever interpolations of Cole Porter, Mozart, Beat Poetry, and more in his rendition of “Clementine.”
And of course, his third album, which was much more overtly political, remains almost shockingly relevant in its focuses on racism, geopolitics, the environment, math education, and more.
I wrote multiple a cappella arrangements of Lehrer’s songs in my college years – some of my earliest works – and still giggle when I play the record.
Tom Lehrer remains a creative touchstone for me because he has created great art, art that delights with its lightness. And he remains a touchstone for his public cleverness – wit, intellect, and charm all combined in a brilliant package.
He recorded only three albums – just thirty-seven songs, not counting the re-releases and later works for PBS – and that’s okay to me. His songwriting stands up next to his celebrated peers – the logical comparisons include Stephen Sondheim. He is effectively without equal in the world of funny songwriting, and has profoundly influenced my own thinking about humor in music.
Touchstones is an ongoing series of posts I’ll be writing during the COVID-19 season, reflecting on the works of art that support me in times of upheaval. I encourage you to make a list of your own “touchstones” and if you like, share them with me to publish here.