Artist: Julie WilsonLP: Julie Wilson at the St. Regis
Song: "A Woman Without Experience"
[ listen ]
Song: "Twelve Good Men and True"
[ listen ]
Song: "A Woman Without Experience"
[ listen ]
Song: "Twelve Good Men and True"
[ listen ]
My friend here in Seattle who's also named Julie Wilson and I concur: If we'd been born 45 years earlier, we'd be this other Julie Wilson's best and closest friends. We'd take her to the airport in L.A. when she had shows in London, we'd babysit her Shih Tzu and water her plants while she was out of town and we'd even pick up her red sequined gown from the cleaners if she asked us to. But at night, the three of us would take the town by storm! You can find a list of Julie's TV and film appearances here, see her perform "A Bad Bad Woman" here and read all about Julie's exciting life and career and find out what she's up to nowadays on her official website here. These are the notes from the back of the LP:
JULIE WILSON AT THE ST. REGIS
with The Marshall Grant Trio
ABOUT JULIE
Naïve little Marylou Wilson made up her mind she was going
to become a star, and no one in Omaha, where she was
born, had any doubts that she would make it. From the
day Julie named herself Marylou after one of her dolls,
she was acting and she liked every minute of it—
so did her audience.
Julie wasted no time—she was determined and willing to
work hard. In her anxiety to rush her career, she entered
the Miss America Beauty Contest and was chosen Miss
Nebraska; however, since she was under 18 Julie
was disqualified. Drama classes at Omaha University,
singing in a trio with Earl Carroll's Vanities, dancing in
the line at the Copacabana and modeling followed.
All of a sudden, people sat up and took notice of a svelte
and sophisticated beauty appearing in motion pictures,
musical comedy, and supper club performances. No longer
wearing a calico gown, but sleek and chic creations and
having a twinkle in her eye, Julie now sings about the
naïve little girl who left the farm for the big city.
Julie made it. How could she miss. She can charm her
audience with a warm smile, tease them, flirt a little bit,
and at the same time, reassure them that it is one
great big wonderful party—and it's all in fun.
— Ethel Nagy
* * * * * * *
ABOUT THE ALBUM
If you were sitting ringside at the Maisonette (as I was)
near the witching hour on May 27, 1957, you would have
been thoroughly enchanted by a sultry-voiced young
woman who looked awfully good in the spotlight. Julie
Wilson grinned at the people, flicked a hip, and tore into
a tune with her distinctive brand of naughty nasality:
"I'm a bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad
woman...." Behind her the piano made mad arpeggios;
she waited a moment for the giggles to subside, then
threw back her pretty curls and roared "...but
I'm good good good company."
Everyone—but everyone—in the plush St. Regis nightery
agreed. Lovely-to-look-at, delightful-to-know and heaven-
to-hear Julie Wilson was living it up in her most sophisticated,
tongue-in-cheek fashion—and the crowd loved every minute
of it. Lurking behind a richly brocaded curtain, by the merest
chance, a crew from Vik was taking it all down on tape
for our permanent delectation.
Deft comedienne Julie has had the great good sense to
attach herself in this collection to the witty, literate and
unabashed lyrics of wizard word-wielders Cole Porter,
Allan Roberts, Rowland Leigh and Bob Allan, to name a
few. Armed with the wicked where-withal, Julie belts out
comments on such brazen big-city phenomena as the
sugar daddy, the gold digger, and the terribly transient
nature of Man. After listening to JULIE WILSON AT THE
ST. REGIS, you'll agree that this miss has a name (plus
a voice and a style) you simply can't forget.
— Hugh M. Hefner, Editor-Publisher—Playboy
* * * * * * *
THE REVIEWS
"Julie Wilson's song style combines the smooth, the smoky
and the sultry. She's the perfect supper club performer—as
easy on the ears as she is on the eyes."
— Dorothy Kilgallen
"Lovely Julie Wilson is one of the most refreshing talents
I've ever presented on my show, and a swell girl."
— Ed Sullivan
"She's not my daughter, but after hearing this I am sorry she isn't."
— Earl Wilson
* * * * * * *
Recorded at the Maisonette in the St. Regis Hotel, New York
City, May 29, 1957. Arranged and conducted by Marshall
Grant. Produced and directed by Herman Diaz, Jr.
with The Marshall Grant Trio
ABOUT JULIE
Naïve little Marylou Wilson made up her mind she was going
to become a star, and no one in Omaha, where she was
born, had any doubts that she would make it. From the
day Julie named herself Marylou after one of her dolls,
she was acting and she liked every minute of it—
so did her audience.
Julie wasted no time—she was determined and willing to
work hard. In her anxiety to rush her career, she entered
the Miss America Beauty Contest and was chosen Miss
Nebraska; however, since she was under 18 Julie
was disqualified. Drama classes at Omaha University,
singing in a trio with Earl Carroll's Vanities, dancing in
the line at the Copacabana and modeling followed.
All of a sudden, people sat up and took notice of a svelte
and sophisticated beauty appearing in motion pictures,
musical comedy, and supper club performances. No longer
wearing a calico gown, but sleek and chic creations and
having a twinkle in her eye, Julie now sings about the
naïve little girl who left the farm for the big city.
Julie made it. How could she miss. She can charm her
audience with a warm smile, tease them, flirt a little bit,
and at the same time, reassure them that it is one
great big wonderful party—and it's all in fun.
— Ethel Nagy
* * * * * * *
ABOUT THE ALBUM
If you were sitting ringside at the Maisonette (as I was)
near the witching hour on May 27, 1957, you would have
been thoroughly enchanted by a sultry-voiced young
woman who looked awfully good in the spotlight. Julie
Wilson grinned at the people, flicked a hip, and tore into
a tune with her distinctive brand of naughty nasality:
"I'm a bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad
woman...." Behind her the piano made mad arpeggios;
she waited a moment for the giggles to subside, then
threw back her pretty curls and roared "...but
I'm good good good company."
Everyone—but everyone—in the plush St. Regis nightery
agreed. Lovely-to-look-at, delightful-to-know and heaven-
to-hear Julie Wilson was living it up in her most sophisticated,
tongue-in-cheek fashion—and the crowd loved every minute
of it. Lurking behind a richly brocaded curtain, by the merest
chance, a crew from Vik was taking it all down on tape
for our permanent delectation.
Deft comedienne Julie has had the great good sense to
attach herself in this collection to the witty, literate and
unabashed lyrics of wizard word-wielders Cole Porter,
Allan Roberts, Rowland Leigh and Bob Allan, to name a
few. Armed with the wicked where-withal, Julie belts out
comments on such brazen big-city phenomena as the
sugar daddy, the gold digger, and the terribly transient
nature of Man. After listening to JULIE WILSON AT THE
ST. REGIS, you'll agree that this miss has a name (plus
a voice and a style) you simply can't forget.
— Hugh M. Hefner, Editor-Publisher—Playboy
* * * * * * *
THE REVIEWS
"Julie Wilson's song style combines the smooth, the smoky
and the sultry. She's the perfect supper club performer—as
easy on the ears as she is on the eyes."
— Dorothy Kilgallen
"Lovely Julie Wilson is one of the most refreshing talents
I've ever presented on my show, and a swell girl."
— Ed Sullivan
"She's not my daughter, but after hearing this I am sorry she isn't."
— Earl Wilson
* * * * * * *
Recorded at the Maisonette in the St. Regis Hotel, New York
City, May 29, 1957. Arranged and conducted by Marshall
Grant. Produced and directed by Herman Diaz, Jr.
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