Anita O’Day, Still Swinging at 70, Will Sing in Newport
“The method doesn’t change. You bring out a few tunes, you blow a few choruses, you bring in some of that nostalgia pitch, and you throw in a few songs from the ‘40s. Then you add a couple of things from today, songs that are like the standards, and that’s it.”
Anita O’Day--who will make rare Orange County appearances Sunday at noon and 3 p.m. at Cafe Lido in Newport Beach--was describing the method that has worked for her since she burst onto the public stage 50 years ago with the Gene Krupa band.
It’s a method that has kept her going through failed marriages, back-room abortions, heroin addiction (and near death from a drug overdose) and a year in prison.
Through it all, O’Day, 70, has never lost her ability to swing or her sense of humor. The feisty, lay-it-on-the-line approach she takes to life mirrors the no-nonsense, in-the-groove way she deals with her music.
“My problem,” she said with a laugh, “has always been honesty. That’s why I’m in the hole now; I trusted everybody. The IRS just left me 300 bucks in the bank, and they want $5,000 a quarter from me. I don’t know how they’re going to get it. I guess I’ll have to die, commit suicide or go to jail.”
Financial problems are nothing new for her. As long ago as the mid-’50s, her wages were being attached to cover $41,000 in debts dating back to the ‘40s. More recently, a partner allegedly took off with both the profits and the master recording tapes from O’Day’s record company, Emily Records (named after her pet dog).
“Yeah, the dog died, and it’s all over,” she said sardonically on the phone from Hemet, where she lives alone in a three-room trailer. “I don’t have a record company anymore. My partner ripped me off and didn’t send me a dime. But I’m still here. I didn’t really lose anything except him, and that’s what I wanted to lose.
“The truth is that every girl singer I know has had similar problems. Maybe in slightly different ways, but the effect is the same. You’re out there taking care of the music and the job, and your partner’s taking care of the bank account for himself. And you wind up owing the taxes.”
But O’Day, who tried to medicate the wounds of an abused childhood by hitting the streets of Chicago in search of jazz when she was 15, continues to find many of the answers to her problems inside the music.
“The music is still giving it to me,” she said. “I’m still learning things every day. You can keep growing if you work at it. It’s like if you dig a hole, it gets deeper. You learn more. I’ve got a new album in the works, and I do a little bit on it every day. There’ll be some new tunes--not really new , but new to me. I keep going back and back and back to find some of the goodies that I missed that nobody wanted to pay me to sing. Now I’m just picking out the good ones and putting them on tape.”
This time, she promises herself, the tape will go to a record company that will handle the marketing and financing in an above-the-board fashion. Finally (assuming the IRS doesn’t intrude), she appears to have found a stable lifestyle. Bookings come in every day, as she has begun to receive belated recognition as one of the few truly innovative jazz singers.
And, in typically spunky fashion, she insists on keeping everything in perspective.
“Hey, I don’t want to work any more than I already do,” she said. “I’m 70 years old. What the hell do I want to be on the buses and the airplanes for? It’s terrible out there. People are terrible. The food is terrible. Everything’s bad.
“But when I’m on the bandstand, if I got the cats that play my kind of music, that’s where I am. That’s all I’ve got to give, and that’s fine.”
“I’m no different from what I’ve ever been,” she added. “I’m just me. All I know is what I’ve been, where I’ve been and who I am. Like Popeye the Sailor: I am what I am.”
Anita O’Day sings Sunday at noon and 3 p.m. at Cafe Lido, 501 30th St., Newport Beach. Admission: $50. Information: (714) 675-2968.