Bad Ideas

I am one of those people who will touch a bruise to make sure it still hurts. So are you surprised when I mention that this little gem (emphasis on little) passed through my hands at the library during a delete of Celtic music. Elsa Lanchester Sings Bawdy Cockney Songs who could resist? The Celtic music had a niche waiting for it in my music collection, but this CD is neither Celtic nor music. I kept thinking one day I would listening to it and see, just how awful it was. Maybe it would not be that terrible, I thought.
The New Yorker Magazine said of this disc, "A breath of fresh air in our smoky night life. Elsa with her abstract face, her thicket of apricot hair...oddly diverting...A weird and wondrous will-of-the wisp, being female, street urchin and witty in rapid succession...an interesting pair of sheep's eyes." Okay, but did they like it? Or did comparing her to barnyard animals mean she brayed like a cow in season. The magazine continues with, "There is a desperate quality about her art; in some curious way she takes her listeners out of a close, tidy world and into a disquieting place filled with sharp winds and unsteady laughter." Ah! They didn't like her music, but liked that she was making everyone uncomfortable with her bawdy cockney songs.
Touching the bruise, I admit I flinched as I suffered through the whole CD from Fiji Fanny to Mrs. Badger-Butts. The cacophony of her voice was like hearing your grandmother singing, "Darling Nikki," off key. I especially like that they were so desperate for someone to buy this CD that they put Elsa's Bride of Frankenstein photo on the cover. Trust me a whole CD of her hissing would have been much better.

I want to throw this monstrosity away, but maybe there is someone out there that just LOVES Elsa Lanchester. Act now and just maybe you too can feel the burn of this treasure.