Introduction

What is The New Yorker? I know it’s a great magazine and that it’s a tremendous source of pleasure in my life. But what exactly is it? This blog’s premise is that The New Yorker is a work of art, as worthy of comment and analysis as, say, Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Each week I review one or more aspects of the magazine’s latest issue. I suppose it’s possible to describe and analyze an entire issue, but I prefer to keep my reviews brief, and so I usually focus on just one or two pieces, to explore in each the signature style of its author. A piece by Nick Paumgarten is not like a piece by Jill Lepore, and neither is like a piece by Ian Frazier. One could not mistake Collins for Seabrook, or Bilger for Galchen, or Mogelson for Kolbert. Each has found a style, and it is that style that I respond to as I read, and want to understand and describe.

Tuesday, April 14, 2026

Stacey Kent's Superb "You're Looking at Me"

Recently, cycling the back roads of Tavira, Portugal, I found myself humming a fragment of melody that I couldn’t quite identify. Then it came to me – Diana Krall’s rendition of “You’re Looking at Me.” There was a time back in the nineties when I collected Krall albums. I adored her singing. “You’re Looking at Me” is on her 1996 album All for You: A Dedication to the Nat King Cole Trio

When I returned home, I delved into my jazz collection. I listened to Krall’s “You’re Looking at Me.” It’s very good. But I found an even better version on Stacey Kent’s 2001 Dreamsville. Kent sings it slightly faster. Her exquisite crystalline voice intoxicates.   

A quick Google search discloses that “You’re Looking at Me” was composed by jazz pianist Bobby Troup in 1953. It’s been recorded by Nat “King” Cole, Carmen McRae, Cleo Laine, and John Pizzarelli, among others. It’s a superb melodic song – a wry, self-mocking meditation on romantic disillusion. I love its opening line: “Who had the boys turning hand springs?” And the clear, precise way Kent enunciates “ridiculous” in the line “Believed every word of this ridiculous tale” is pure poetry. I can’t get this song out of my head. It’s indelible. 

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