Ms. Jenkins' performances were frequently sold out, and the press extolled them. Much of her performing skill can be attributed not to her vocal abilities (which, if you have clicked on the link above, you know to be nil), but to her costume design. If I might quote Mr. Robinson's article for a moment: "No Jenkins recital was accompanied by less than three changes. In 'Angel of Inspiration' a very substantial and matronly apparition, all wings and tinsel and tulle, made its way through potted palms to the curve of the grand piano."
In 1943, she was in a taxicab accident that left her with the ability to sing "a higher F than ever before." Perhaps inspired by her newfound range, she was finally convinced by admirers to perform a concert at Carnegie Hall, which sold out weeks before the scheduled appearance on October 25, 1944, at age 76. Tragically, one month later she was dead, depriving the Earth of further "Glory of the Human Voice."
Basically, she was the worst singer ever. Anyone who's been watching American Idol for the last few weeks can attest to the large numbers of people who fervently believe they are on par with Justin Timberlake, but are more likely to be compared to a drunken Bea Arthur. Florence Foster Jenkins spent the last half of her life using her considerable fortune and social power to make recordings and perform. If she were born in 1980 and wasn't rich, she'd have lasted about 15 seconds into her audition before Simon stabbed her in the eye with a prison shank.
I don't bring this up as a lead-in to a lengthy discourse on American Idol, however. Why the lengthy biography? Two words:
Just to make sure we're all on the same wavelength: we can all agree that J. Lo sucks, right? If she was on the street singing, with a hat in front of her holding a few lonely nickels, most folks wouldn't even drop a penny in. In fact, most folks would steal the hat. A few would try to stab her with a shank.
To the few poor, disillusioned folks who believe J. Lo to be the hottest thing since Norma Jean Mortensen got high at a party and signed a contract with Columbia: I didn't say she wasn't hot. She's got a badunkadunk with orbiting satellites and legs like bronzed butter. But she can't sing.
She's not the first person to try and cross over from one artistic style to another, but she's easily the most successful (as measured in album sales, not actual talent). Shaquille O'Neal has attempted both acting and rapping, which disastrous results. William Shatner's 1968 spoken word album has made him the butt of jokes for nigh on thirty-five years. Britney Spears' acting debut, "Crossroads," is ranked as the 42nd worst movie of all time by the Internet Movie Database, even worse than such gems as "Barb Wire" and "Police Academy 4: Citizens on Patrol" (although to be fair, Plan 9 From Outer Space is listed there, and as I've said in a previous column, P9FOS is the "Best Bad Movie Ever"). Clearly, performing in multiple genres is difficult (not to mention time consuming). So what Jello is pulling off is admirable.
But . . . does she ever do anything but duets with established stars? Let's go down the list:
| All I Have | Recent single, shooting up the charts . . . recorded with L.L. Cool J., widely regarded as the smoovest rappin' mofo evah. (At least by himself.) |
| I'm Real | Recorded with Ja Rule (who seems to make a large number of duet recordings himself . . . hmmmmmmmm). |
| Ain't It Funny | Ja Rule again. |
| My Love Don't Cost A Thing | Solo single; the exception that proves the rule. |
| Jenny On The Block | Another solo single, but it's telling that I had never heard of it until my boy Kyle rumored that it took about 10 people to write it. What's it about? She's rich but unchanged? HA! |
Hey, the girl can dance. And I think she's a pretty fair actress, actually. But she can't sing any more than I can give birth. Sure, it's sort of in tune, and it's not actually unpleasant, but considering how much digital obfuscation is on any CD, the irony of singing "I'm Real" is . . . well, it's a wonder she can buy pants that fit over the two huge brass ones she's got hanging. The voice itself, even digitally modified, is soft and plaintive, with no actual power or emotion. She sounds like a little boy, honestly.
My point (yes, I have a point) is that, like Florence Foster Jenkins, J. Lo has bought herself a music career. Not necessarily with her own money, but with her prestige. She uses the power of name association to attract big names to sing with her, and relies on the fans' obsession with her movies to carry over to her recordings. Not surprisingly, it works. Good for her. Bad for my ears.