Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most - Jazz Music's Biggest Troll

Since it is officially spring - never mind the snow and lack of flowers, warmth or sunshine - I figured I'd write about something spring-related. For some reason jazz musicians seem to love the topic of spring. I had my pick of Joy Spring, Up Jumped Spring, You Must Believe in Spring, It Might as Well Be Spring, etc. I went with:

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most has always amused me. I don't know much about the composer, Tommy Wolf, but I'm going to guess that he hated singers. Parts are almost unsingable, guaranteed to weed out weak vocalists. Just look at the verse:

That second line is rough. (:16-:30 in the clip above) It requires picking notes out of the air that are very much not in the chord/key that you are currently in, several times in a row.

The bulk of the song itself is not too bad, totally singable:

I especially love what happens at the end of the bridge. After a little hairiness, it's like Mr. Wolf wrote himself into a corner with the ii-V leading back to G, not the song's key of C. So rather than rework it, he does the first measure of the last "A" section in G, then abruptly goes back to C. Brilliant.

The Coda is where he really kicks you in the mouth. (5:07 in the clip) If you miss the coda of this song, you are boned. That Eb-7, and the melody over it, come out of nowhere. It's a pretty long coda, which is refreshing, and the composer makes sure to get a few more jabs in before the end. The whole last line is pretty acrobatic, with big leaps, then a descending line with two consecutive half-steps to end on what is a pretty low note for most singers. If you can tell the character of composers from their work, I would guess that Tommy Wolf was a very clever, total pain in the ass.

Add to these things a pretty large vocal range and an obscene amount of verses and lyrics - it is no surprise that the song is not performed very often. Its obnoxiousness is no accident; this is the work of someone who wanted to make singers unhappy. I can't help but admire.