Tom Lehrer, the Ivy League mathematician whose acerbic satirical songs delighted fans and outraged civic and religious establishments, has died at 97.
Lehrer was a math prodigy who enrolled at Harvard University at 15, subsequently taught there and at Wellesley College, Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the University of California at Santa Cruz, and worked for the Atomic Energy Commission and National Security Agency in the early 1950s.
A pianist since his childhood in New York, Lehrer doted on Broadway show tunes, Gilbert & Sullivan operettas and Tin Pan Alley-vintage songs. They were echoed in the peppy and faux-sentimental tunes to which he set his pointed lyrics.
In his student years, he began writing comic songs – “Fight Fiercely, Harvard” was a campus favorite – and recorded them to make side money. Subsequent stints in the US Army and nuclear and security agencies inspired darker takes on Cold War themes, such as “So Long Mom (a Song for World War III),” “We Will All Go Together When We Go” and “Wernher von Braun,” a takedown of the Nazi rocket scientist who became a leading figure in the US aerospace program.
Lehrer also cast a jaundiced eye on society at large, targeting mainstays of mid-century, middle-class America, including the Boy Scouts (in “Be Prepared”) and, most notoriously, the Catholic Church (in “The Vatican Rag”). A more whimsical side came through in such numbers as a patter song running through the periodic table of chemical elements (set to the tune of “I am a modern major general” from “The Pirates of Penzance”) and “Silent E” (“Who can turn a cub into a cube?”), written for the children’s television show “The Electric Company.”
Outfitted professorially, with thick-framed glasses, suit and tie, singing like an old-school vaudevillian while cheerfully tickling the ivories, Lehrer performed intermittently in concert and nightclub dates in the ’50s and ’60s, leaving the stage for good after a 1967 Scandinavian tour.
His output was not large – “37 songs in 20 years,” by his count, recorded on three studio albums with some reprised on a live recording; but their appeal was lasting. His albums sold hundreds of thousands of copies in the US, Britain and elsewhere, largely without radio airplay because of their provocative lyrics.
“Lacking exposure in the media, my songs spread slowly,” Lehrer remarked. “Like herpes, rather than ebola.”
That spread continued long after his retirement from performing and recording, thanks to the Dr. Demento radio show, Cameron Mackintosh’s British stage revue “Tomfoolery,” and a nerdy-young-professional grapevine that had fueled his popularity from the start.
In 2020, he put his lyrics and original tunes into the public domain.
Lehrer continued his teaching career, dividing his time between Massachusetts and California, adding sessions on musical theater to his math classes at Santa Cruz.
An obituary by Richard Severo and Peter Keepnews for The New York Times:
One of Lehrer’s last shows, a televised concert from 1967:
POSTSCRIPT: Lehrer was among the last masters of the American comic popular song, a genre that really needs to be revived, not necessarily for satire. Funny tunes have gotten people through wars, depressions and other turmoil for generations. Our time sure could use that kind of comic relief.
In current popular music, wittiness pops through in comic rap (very niche), from some country singers (notably, Brad Paisley) and some musicals (think “Hamilton” and “The Book of Mormon”), and most prominently in drag cabaret (mostly reviving vintage songs). But when was the last time a comic or novelty tune made the top 40?
You’d think that today’s pop stars, with their gym-toned abs and glutes, A-list mingling and mating prospects and no-expenses-spared lifestyles, could turn off their usual modes of expression (ticked-off, ironic, distantly lovelorn) and give us the occasional laugh.
Does AI have a sense of humor?
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