Dylan Jones: If You Ask Me

Friday 16 May 2008 19:00 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

If you ask me, "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is the greatest seduction tool known to mankind. Or at least an alternative to three or four pints of Wife Beater, half a dozen flaming sambucas, a rented kebab (let's face it, they're not often kept for long) and a night in the cells. I was reaquainted with it a few weeks ago via a YouTube clip of a breathtaking performance of the song by Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Shore from Shore's own TV show in 1959. It's regarded by many aficionados as one of the greatest jazz performances ever, and the duo's vocal dexterity is something to behold.

The song is a double hander written by Frank Loesser (think: "Luck Be a Lady", "Two Sleepy People" and "Slow Boat To China") in 1944, starring a dinner-jacketed chap ("the wolf") smitten with a gal ("the mouse") who's got to get home by curfew (real or imagined). It's a classic case of insincere pleading and indecisive protests and is consequently extremely sexy.

Most seduction songs envelope you in swirls of either maudlin or libidinous instrumentation, or tug at your heart strings with melodramatic lyrics (and if we're honest, the best do both). But few simply plonk you down in the middle of a cocktail party, stick a martini glass in your hand and let you fend for yourself. This is what gives Loesser's song such depth, and like a lot of other Cole Porter-style-white-tie-and-cigarette-holder tunes from that era, it reinforces the fact that frivolity can be so moving. To wit: "The neighbours might think ... Baby, it's bad out there / Say, what's in this drink ... No cabs to be had out there / I wish I knew how ... Your eyes are like starlight now..." etc etc.

In 1948, after years of informally performing it at parties (the writer had premiered the song at a housewarming party, singing it with his wife), Loesser sold the rights to MGM, which inserted it into the 1949 film, Neptune's Daughter, earning Loesser an Oscar in the process. When the song was at its most popular (and in the 1950s it was covered as often as "Angels" is now sung by drunk secretaries on karaoke evenings) it was usually only played around Christmas, due to its wintry lyrics – although as popular culture increasingly thrives on incongruity, I'm lobbying for it to become an ironic summer standard.

Take care out there: wear a coat.

Dylan Jones is the editor of 'GQ'

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in