In the Mood

Through a typically circuitous course of random cognitive meanderings* while out walking this afternoon, I found myself humming - or boppita-pop-pop-ing and doodle-oodl-ing, rather - Glenn Miller's "In The Mood".

I'd never really thought about the tune beyond the fact that it's one the best known compositions of its era. I'm certainly not a jazz buff; jazz is mostly the stuff that my parents' and grandparents' generations used to listen to, and kind of the background to the stuff I grew up with. Most adults alive today can't remember when "In the Mood" came out, and probably a majority can't even name it, but play them the opening measures, and most will say, "Sure, I've heard that before." It's a classic. And I think I've figured out why. (I'm sure this is no great revelation to people who think about this sort of stuff all the time, but it was to me, so I'm sharing.)

It all starts - literally - with those opening bars. Ironically, they're almost impossible to dance to, which seems odd for a swing number. After all, the whole social function of the genre was to provide music for dancing. But those introductory bars aren't for dancing: they're an announcement. It's a trumpet fanfare, to get your attention, telling you that the dance music is about to start.

This gives all the fellas a chance to turn to their sweeties (or vice versa) and say, "Let's dance!" By the time they make it to the dance floor, the band has finished the fanfare and has settled into a melody that's as easily danceable as the intro is not. It's got a smooth beat that's easy to follow at first, with just enough syncopation to be fun, and by the time it gets to the trickier part where the musicians get to briefly indulge themselves, the dancers will be loosened up enough to deal with it. Even middle-class white guys can cut a rug to "In the Mood".

The annals of pop music are littered with recordings that start (and somtimes drone on and on) encouraging people to get up and dance. Miller's tune does it even more effectively, and without stooping to using words, like "everybody dance now". It's pure, unfettered music, and people just respond to it.

(*The news of Righteous Brother Bobby Hatfield's death started it. It got me thinking about the phenomenon of white guys doing soul music. I also remembered thinking when I first heard the title "Unchained Melody" way back when, that it was a jazz number by someone like Dave Brubeck. Which led me to thinking about white guys doing jazz, which brought me quite naturally to Glenn Miller.)