Scat singing is vocal improvisation with wordless, nonsense syllables. Scat singing lets singers do the equivalent of an instrumental solo, using their voice.

It’s a jazz thing. God, I loathe jazz. Maybe that’s not quite true. Sometimes jazz spends time being blues (Ella Fitzgerald, sometimes), and then I can put up with it. But the more like jazz it gets, the more I hate it.

And the jazziest thing of them all, even jazzier than bass solos, is scat singing.

However, I will not hear a word against Cab Calloway.

You know when it’s coming: you’ve just had a long bit where someone goes squeak and squonk on the sax, and goes back to the ranks while the audience gives them a well-bred round of considered applause, and then the singer comes out looking as happy as the Persian cat that engulfed the moon, and begins:

“Squiddily dap dap dap scat a doogity boogity willong scat scat dap whap.”

You just know they plan to keep on doing that for longer than you can possibly stay in the same room as them. Death to scat. I really really will not do sexual play involving shit, but I think the singing might actually be worse.