Woefully Out of Touch

This was an eye opener for me. It's like my brain took its own Nestea plunge.

It's a summer Saturday night in Los Angeles. Where the hell else would I be but the Hollywood Bowl? Next to Dodger Stadium, this is one of my truly happy places out here. And, in some respects, the Bowl has a leg up on Chavez Ravine. Unlike the Dodger starting staff, members of the LA Philharmonic tend to last the whole evening. But, I digress...

So, last Saturday, a group of my friends makes the shlep up the big hill to enjoy a night of soft breezes and cool music. When I book my tickets way back in March, I sometimes only pay partial attention to what I am ordering. As long as it's Saturday and it's not classical, they can go ahead and swipe my credit card. This particular bill of fare was called "Cool Britannia" and was pre-sold as a salute to the "shagadelic" sounds of British pop. Sounds good to me. As a method of orientation, I pull out my Best of Herman's Hermits CD.

What throws me is the listing of a special guest? Somebody named Jamie Cullum. His picture makes him look like a pre-pubescent Leonardo DiCaprio. But, beyond that, I have no clue.

WTF.

The sheer mention of his name Saturday night sent some of the crowd into a frenzy.

Who?

Maybe he's the son of Broadway actor John Cullum?

Who?

In the first half of the show, it's all LA Phil. The conductor was Bramwell Tovey, some British guy who was hilarious everytime he opened his mouth. Put the baton down and head over to the Laugh Factory, please. The orchestra played a nifty James Bond suite, some wartime ditties, a bunch of Noel Coward songs, and, finally, some stuff from the Austin Powers soundtrack. There would be a short intermission and then Jamie Cullum would be out.

Wild screams.

Who???

Okay, I'd like to think that I am semi well-versed in the musical world. Sure, I won't know the underground bands playing in back alleys across Los Angeles, but I'd like to think my tastes are eclectic enough to have a satisfactory knowledge of who's doing what these days.

Jamie Cullum.

Who?

There were clearly lots of people in the crowd who knew who the heck he was. The couple next to us apparently saw him in Reno a few years ago. There were folks who obviously knew album cuts and song titles.

Who?

Is this information printed in a magazine someplace because, apparently, I have missed a few issues? I was totally clueless about this guy who has developed what seemed to be a fairly sizeable following. And, just so I know it's not me, my friends were in the dark as well.

Well, now I know. And I like.

He's totally a unique performer. A little bit of standard, mixed in with jazz, some rap. He looked totally comfortable mixing this altogether. And, for me, it worked. He's like a scruffy, un-ironed, version of Michael Buble. But, the latter has never developed his own style. He simply copies whoever's song he is singing at the time. Not Jamie Cullum. His version of "I Get a Kick Out of You" was his and not one else's. When he announced he was going to do some of his own songs, I cringed and braced myself for the brain freeze. But, the stuff was good. The lyrics were clever, even funny. I got home that night and searched him out on the web and ITunes. Yep, he's been around. Here's a fairly watchable snippet that was obviously shot on somebody's cell phone.

Who knew?

I certainly didn't.

Dinner last night: steak and grilled shrimp at Saltgrass in Dallas.