I knew it was written for the 1981 musical 'Cats '. I knew about Webber writing 'Cats ', didn’t know about Nunn and knew it was based on ‘Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats ’ by Eliot. But the surprise was that the lyrics for 'Memory' were based on two other poems by Eliot entitled ‘Preludes’ and ‘Rhapsody on a Windy Night’.It didn’t take long to follow this rabbit hole.
Andrew Lloyd Webber originally composed the tune for a proposed Puccini project that he later abandoned. Although the tune was intentionally written in the style of Puccini, Lloyd Webber was concerned that he had unknowingly lifted it from one of Puccini's own works. He asked his father, a noted expert on Puccini, for his opinion on whether it sounded like one of the composer's works; according to Lloyd Webber, his father responded: "It sounds like a million dollars!" Prior to its inclusion in 'Cats ', the composition had also been earmarked for his early draft of Sunset Boulevard.I found it fascinating that composers will change keys so as to keep the song within a comfortable range for a particular voice. Apparently, this song starts off in the key of B-flat major, switches to G-flat major then changes again to D-flat major for the climax. A complete mystery to me.It was released in early 1981 by MCA Records to promote 'Cats ' while the musical was still in development. The singer, Elaine Paige, heard this version driving home one evening and rushed into the house to record it from the radio, vowing to contact Lloyd Webber to insist on recording a vocal version of it. Before she was able to do so, the following morning he rang her to ask whether she would, at short notice, replace the injured Judi Dench as Grizabella in the London production of 'Cats '. Paige later recalled that the opportunity to sing ‘Memory’ was the principal reason for agreeing.
Trevor Nunn, Valerie Eliot, Gillian Lynne and Andrew Lloyd Webber
Lloyd Webber and Nunn wrote two versions of the song: one for the stage production and another for a single that Elaine Paige recorded. In the stage version, the second bridge of the song is sung an octave higher by the kitten Jemima, with Grizabella joining her for the second half of said bridge; the reasoning was that the low pitch (as sung by Grizabella in the single) would be difficult to hear in the live theater setting and moreover, this duet would allow for a visual contrast between the innocent young kitten and the fallen Grizabella in the stage show.I’ll finish off by saying that the ‘Memories ’ album won Brit Award for British Album of the Year as Best Selling Album at the 1983 Brit Awards. It sold over 10 million copies worldwide.And here is one of the two poems by T S Eliot:Rhapsody On A Windy Night
Twelve o’clock.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Half-past one,
The street-lamp sputtered,
The street-lamp muttered,
The street-lamp said, "Regard that woman
Who hesitates towards you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin."
The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Half-past two,
The street lamp said,
"Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter."
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.
I could see nothing behind that child¹s eye.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.
The lamp hummed:
"Regard the moon,
La lune ne guarde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smooths the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and eau de Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain."
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
The lamp said,
"Four o’clock,
Here is the number on the door.
Memory!
You have the key,
The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair.
Mount.
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,
Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life."
The last twist of the knife. T. S. Eliot
Thanks for reading, Terry Q. Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to Facebook
