SECRET LOVE

Once I had a secret love,
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love,
Became impatient to be free

Grown ups have their lullabies too, you know.

One of sweetest I can think of is 'Secret Love', composed by Sammy Fain (music) and Paul Francis Webster (lyrics) for 'Calamity Jane' (1953) starring Doris Day. It has been covered from everyone from Slim Whitman to George Michael and I only just recently noticed its love struck melody snuck in and referenced at the beginning of Billy Paul's famous Philly soul track 'Me and Mrs Jones' which caught me by surprise.

Yesterday afternoon, attending the 2024 Cheltenham Jazz Festival I was deeply moved to hear 'Secret Love' played by pianist Brad Mehldau and his trio with their exquisite interpretation of the timeless song. It provided a welcome meditative cooling down from what had been a highly engaged and energetic set up to that point. The perfect timing of this moment of musical reflection with 'Secret Love' seemed to hit deeper for it being placed at a point in the concert where one knew the finish was not too far off but where one still wanted to luxuriate in the brilliance of the players on stage for just a little while longer.

Hearing the tear drop piano notes fall in between brief silences made me not only shed a tear or two of my own that I caught on the side of my hand but also appreciate the profound transience of live music. Here, phrases fall away before you catch them and you're always just one step behind each new section of melodic motion as you're still responding to what's just gone and vanished and pierced your tender heart, like an invisible assassin.

So I told a friendly star,
The way that dreamers often do
Just how wonderful you are,
And why I'm so in love with you

As Mehldau's trio improvisation echoed around Cheltenham Town Hall, I couldn't help but remember my late father's love of Doris Day and especially 'Secret Love'. His introduction to it would be back in 1953 when he was eleven years old. Now listening to it in 2024, I'm aware of both the song's 70 year history and its unique ability to sound as if it was just freshly composed here and now.

The travelling through time of a song like 'Secret Love' is a genuine miracle when you think of this essentially invisible thing not bound by anything other than it being passed on by either recording or live performance. It is the musical equivalent of an oral transmission - in this particular instance a lineage that derives from The Great American Songbook where torch songs like 'Secret Love' are passed from one generation of 'standard bearers' to another like sacred heirlooms.

Now, I shout it from the highest hills
Even told the golden daffodils
At last my hearts an open door,
And my secret love's
No secret anymore.