A moving work of autobiographical fiction, That Lucky Old Son takes readers on a journey of adventure, danger, and self-discovery as the author weaves his own memories with his father’s experiences in Bomber Command with No. 158 Squadron RAF during the Second World War. Writing from a child’s point of view, Mark Cote combines known facts with what he imagines his father doing from basic training through to being shot down and captured by the Germans. He poignantly communicates the terror, uncertainty, and fleeting hope felt by the crew, transporting readers back in time to 1940s Europe. Having lost his father when he was only eight years old, Cote embarks on a quest to discover the man who left him too soon, but who left behind a legacy of courage, love, and faith. That Lucky Old Son is a book that will educate, inform, move, and inspire readers of all ages.

Who Should Sing "Ol' Man River"?: The Lives of an American Song tells the almost eighty-year performance history of a great popular song. Examining over two hundred recorded and filmed versions of Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II's classic song, the book reveals the power of performers to remake one popular song into many different guises.

A comprehensive anthology bringing together more than one thousand of the best American and English song lyrics of the twentieth century; an extraordinary celebration of a unique art form and an indispensable reference work and history that celebrates one of the twentieth century’s most enduring and cherished legacies. Reading Lyrics begins with the first masters of the colloquial phrase, including George M. Cohan (“Give My Regards to Broadway”), P. G. Wodehouse (“Till the Clouds Roll By”), and Irving Berlin, whose versatility and career span the period from “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” to “Annie Get Your Gun” and beyond. The Broadway musical emerges as a distinct dramatic form in the 1920s and 1930s, its evolution propelled by a trio of lyricists—Cole Porter, Ira Gershwin, and Lorenz Hart—whose explorations of the psychological and emotional nuances of falling in and out of love have lost none of their wit and sophistication. Their songs, including “Night and Day,” “The Man I Love,” and “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” have become standards performed and recorded by generation after generation of singers. The lure of Broadway and Hollywood and the performing genius of such artists as Al Jolson, Fred Astaire, Ethel Waters, Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra, and Ethel Merman inspired a remarkable array of talented writers, including Dorothy Fields (“A Fine Romance,” “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love”), Frank Loesser (“Guys and Dolls”), Oscar Hammerstein II (from the groundbreaking “Show Boat” of 1927 through his extraordinary collaboration with Richard Rodgers), Johnny Mercer, Yip Harburg, Andy Razaf, Noël Coward, and Stephen Sondheim. Reading Lyrics also celebrates the work of dozens of superb craftsmen whose songs remain known, but who today are themselves less known—writers like Haven Gillespie (whose “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” may be the most widely recorded song of its era); Herman Hupfeld (not only the composer/lyricist of “As Time Goes By” but also of “Are You Makin’ Any Money?” and “When Yuba Plays the Rumba on the Tuba”); the great light versifier Ogden Nash (“Speak Low,” “I’m a Stranger Here Myself,” and, yes, “The Sea-Gull and the Ea-Gull”); Don Raye (“Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy,” “Mister Five by Five,” and, of course, “Milkman, Keep Those Bottles Quiet”); Bobby Troup (“Route 66”); Billy Strayhorn (not only for the omnipresent “Lush Life” but for “Something to Live For” and “A Lonely Coed”); Peggy Lee (not only a superb singer but also an original and appealing lyricist); and the unique Dave Frishberg (“I’m Hip,” “Peel Me a Grape,” “Van Lingo Mungo”). The lyricists are presented chronologically, each introduced by a succinct biography and the incisive commentary of Robert Gottlieb and Robert Kimball.

In its 114th year, Billboard remains the world's premier weekly music publication and a diverse digital, events, brand, content and data licensing platform. Billboard publishes the most trusted charts and offers unrivaled reporting about the latest music, video, gaming, media, digital and mobile entertainment issues and trends.

""African American gospel singer Mahalia Jackson was just sixty years old when her heart finally gave out on January 27, 1972, as she lay alone in her sick bed at Little Company of Mary Hospital just south of Chicago. Obituaries faithfully recounted the best-known story lines of her unlikely career: how the power of her voice was rooted in her devout Baptist upbringing; her birth in 1911 and rise from dire poverty in Uptown New Orleans to international celebrity; a dedication to the black freedom struggle that further elevated her to the status of cultural and political symbol. Together, Jackson's voice, faith, prestige, and activism, made her at the time of her death, in the assessment of her friend Harry Belafonte, "the single most powerful black woman in the United States." Yet her reputation is also complex. Invoking the charisma of Martin and Malcolm, the persuasion of statesmen and despots, and the splendor of divas and diadems, Maceo Bowie's letter to the editor of the Chicago Defender seems to both celebrate and grapple with the substance of Jackson dynamism as a gospel singer and her consequence as an illustrious black public figure. In an editorial in the Defender following Jackson's death, E. Duke McNeil acknowledged Jackson's habitual acclaim as the "Queen of the gospel singers," while also observing: "You can almost say that Mahalia was the 'greatest' because she was the only gospel singer known everywhere." Indeed, for scholars of black gospel, the music itself is often hidden in plain sight. On the one hand, gospel voices are inescapable, audible not just within the music industry, where they have become a lingua franca for pop singers, but also in recurring representations of the black church, in the omnipresent sound of the black gospel choir, and in the personal histories of many black artists. On the other, in comparison with such genres as jazz, blues, country music, and hip hop, documentation of black gospel music, which has thrived in in-group settings, is relatively scant, leaving researchers with limited sources and largely reliant on oral history. Fortunately, the scope and coverage of Jackson's caereer produced a paper trail that enables us to study her personal and professional life while gaining insight into the black gospel field of which she was such an integral part. In compiling a wide swath of these sources on Jackson, The Mahalia Jackson Reader seeks to paint a fuller and more vivid picture of one of the most resonant musical figures of the second half of the twentieth century. This volume offers a wealth of biographical detail about Jackson, though it also reveals that Jackson was many things to many people. This is reflected in the book's organization by topic and type of writing, though, as often as possible, Jackson's own voice joins the dialogue, offering her side of the story. Jackson always identified as a child of New Orleans and the documents in Part I convey her recognition of the singularity of that city and of her legacy as the grandaughter of enslaved and emancipated African Americans. Stories about Jackson's upbringing are recounted by the esteemed critics and commentators in Part II, though these writers also ruminate upon the essence of her artistry, her relationship to jazz, her significance as an African American woman in the public eye, and the ways in which she became an increasingly complicated crossover figure as her visibility grew beyond the bounds of the black church. Newspaper coverage in Part III offers "hot takes" on Jackson's appearances, the pop-cultural cachet of postwar gospel singing, and the singer's transatlantic reception. Already in the 1950s, though even more in subsequent decades, it is evident that beyond being an exemplar of gospel singing, Jackson was read through various investments in the sociopolitical significance of black expressive culture. In 1931, Jackson moved from New Orleans to Chicago where she became immediately immersed in a burgeoning modern gospel movement. The testimony of Jackson and her associates in Part IV are more personal and allow us to understand her less as an exceptional individual than as a musical colleague and as a member of a black South Side community. Yet another perspective on Jackson emerges from the writing directed toward a scholarly audience in Part V, which seeks to contextualize the singer historically and offer enterprising interpretive claims"--