Summary

The web content is an exploration of Tom Jones' enduring appeal and presence in pop culture, emphasizing his adaptability from the era of variety shows to the digital age of YouTube.

Abstract

The article delves into the cultural significance of Tom Jones, highlighting his transition from a staple of 1970s variety shows to a viral sensation on the internet. It reflects on the singer's ability to captivate audiences across generations, from his early days with "Chills & Fever" to his modern renditions of classics like Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." The piece underscores the role of the internet in reviving interest in Tom Jones, particularly among younger audiences who discover his performances through platforms like YouTube. The author also touches on the singer's dynamic stage presence, his memorable duets with other iconic artists, and the enduring nature of his music, suggesting that Tom Jones' talent is indeed timeless.

Opinions

The author suggests that hipsters, known for their appreciation of vintage culture, are likely well-acquainted with Tom Jones' music.
Tom Jones is described as inherently internet-ready, with his charisma and performances being ripe for viral consumption.
The article implies a fondness for the simplicity and unpredictability of variety shows from the past, contrasting them with the curated content of today's media landscape.
The author expresses admiration for Tom Jones' versatility, noting his seamless transition across different music genres and his successful collaborations with a wide range of artists.
There is a hint of humor in the article, particularly in the mock "patient-doctor" exchange about being unable to get Tom Jones' songs out of one's head, coining the term "Tom Jones disease."
The piece praises Tom Jones for continuing to perform and adapt his music into his later years, maintaining relevance and entertainment value.
The author values the input of the online community, acknowledging the contributions of readers who shared rare and entertaining Tom Jones videos.

Are the Hipsters Hip to Tom Jones?

Yesterday alto had a post about Airport ’75 that was really about appreciating the cheesy colossus that was Charlton Heston. The post warmed my heart. I watched the Airport ’75 trailer that he linked to, and it brought me much joy. Don’t deny yourself. You should click on that link, read his post, watch the trailer, and then come back here.

Alto’s post made me wonder; are the hipsters hip to all of the great offerings of yesteryear? My guess is they are. I was listening to “The Wind Cries Mary” one day and one of my younger relatives identified it as a Hendrix tune. I asked how he was so well versed in Hendrix, and he said he knew it from playing Guitar Hero.

But what about Tom Jones? They must know Tom Jones, right? Of course. How could a hipster not already be drunk on Tom Jones? Tom Jones is like a cat. He was Internet ready before there was an Internet. His voice booms out from the age of crappy television, and every wiggle, vocal inflection, and game introduction was captured on tape. His career was custom made for YouTube mastication.

You see, in the old days we had these things called “variety shows”, and, I’m not going to lie to you, they made “Pickers” look an episode of Sherlock. There were hours and hours of bad television. There were dismal skits, tepid songs, soulless dances, and corny jokes, but we watched all of it, and every once in a while there would be a number, or an act, that would wake you up, and then someone in the room would say, “now, that’s entertainment.”

Thanks to the Internet, we don’t have to endure the flab. We can cut right to the quick, and watch the entertainer entertain.

That’s the most popular Tom Jones video on YouTube, for good reason. It’s got it all. I lead with my trump suit. It’s all down hill from here. You should get out now.

Tom Jones took his name from a 1963 movie based on a Henry Fielding novel. It’s the kind of book nobody reads any more. It was a great movie starring a young Albert Finney. If you watch it, you realize why Albert Finney gets to be in so many movies. You make a movie like that, you should just be granted parts for the rest of your life to make sure you don’t starve. Here is the eating scene, which is the best eating scene on film.

Back to Tom Jones. He started out with a band called Tommy Scott and the Senators. I don’t think any footage of them exists. Here he is singing “Chills & Fever” that he recorded with them, but the name on the drum kit says “Tom Jones”, so this 1964 clip might be after he struck out on his own. The soundtrack is off, but it is worth watching.

From there we jump to a great version of It’s Not Unusual on the Ed Sullivan Show. Watch for the aggressive finger snapping, stay for the dance move.

Patient: Doctor, I can’t get the song The Green Green Grass of Home out of my head.

Doctor: You have Tom Jones disease.

Patient: Is it common?

Doctor: It’s not unusual

We move to later Tom Jones. Here is his tribute to his good friend Elvis, which I find unwatchable once he starts singing. The spoken part is… well… surreal.

You can find lots of duets with Tom Jones. He had his own show, so there are duets with Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, Cass Elliot, Dusty Springfield, etc.

Here he is getting upstaged by Aretha Franklin.

He’s on better ground with Little Richard. It seems like Tom Jones was built to sing this era of Rock ‘n Roll.

This one with Janis Joplin is pretty fun.

Finally, I like when singers and musicians keep singing right up until their dying day. I am a fan of the current incarnations of Bob Dylan, Mick Jagger, Jeff Beck, Van Morrison, and Jorma Kaukonen.

Tom Jones may have most of them beat. Whatever you think about Tom Jones singing Leonard Cohen, you have to admit that somehow this totally Tom Jones, and that’s entertainment.

UPDATE:

Since responses are so easy to overlook, I wanted to add the contributions of two intrepid Webgonauts. You should read their comments, because both set up the clips perfectly. DCI Wooderson, who beats me at the “find the best video” game every time we play, uncovered this gem:

and Heath Houston, found, what I think is the “Winnar of Winnars.”

What was that?