Alone for several hours yesterday, I treated myself to some Monk, then some Gillespie, and finished up with Frank. I managed sixteen tracks before my wife returned full of the joys of spring after meeting her sister (a kind of suburban gorgon of a familiar type) before heading off with their Christmas wreaths for 'Mum' (reduced to ashes back in 2013, God rot her soul).
Transports you to another, better world, doesn't he? 'My Way' is not a huge favourite but 'It Was A Very Good Year' had me in tears. 'Moon River' and 'Strangers In The Night' I remember very well indeed from the mid-60s: played by my Sinatra-loving mother (about the only fine quality she had, frankly - no pun intended).
Just about to re-read the Shaw biography, which I think might have been among the first.
They isn't a superlative out there that does the man justice.
You can split his career into three distinctive chapters:
The early years with James, Dorsey and Columbia. Oh look at me now with the Pied Pipers on b/v's is highly recommended. Avid issued two re-mastered compilations. The Formative Years and The Early Years. The latter contains a breathtaking version of The Night We Called It A Day. Incidentally this was co-written by Matt Dennis who was a very cool cabaret star in his own right.
The Sinatra most people are familiar with is the Capitol artist. 14 albums over 9 years. Most of them genuine masterpieces. Big band swingers through to late night emotional rollercoasters. As a body of work it really does stand the test of time. What appears to be a really simple formula is executed peerlessly time after time - hand pick great songs, use talented arrangers, record with the best musicians.
His final period from '61 -81 is, in my book, the most interesting as it's the most varied. Here you'll find everything from his career defining work with Basie, to Bossa with Jobim and a stab at folk. Like many artists of his generation he struggled to keep relevant hence so much variety. For anyone interested, the 70's provided two superb examples of Sinatra at his best - Some Nice Things I've Missed contains an absolutely beautiful version of the Bergmans What Are You Doing The Rest of Your Life and the other is live album The Main Event.
I appreciate he recorded the LA Is My Lady album and Duets after '81 but I don't think they're worth comparing to anything that went before.
For anybody still reading this, that I haven't managed to bore rigid, please check out these two albums:
She shot me down. In '81 Sinatra stopped trying to please people and recorded an album that mirrored the maturity of his voice. Superb saloon songs sung by a superb saloon singer. The title track alone is worth the price of the album.
Everything happens to me. This compilation was supposedly hand picked by Sinatra. It contains a number of unusual choices given how large his discography is. Highly, highly recommended.
Last edited by AlveySinger (2021-12-23 10:23:34)
My dad was a Sinatra fan so I naturally resisted . One of my mates sisters was a really big fan and went to his concerts when she was in her early 20s. We used to rib her about her musical tastes. But when my dad died I got it. We played My Way at his funeral, corny I know but back then it wasn't so usual. I inherited his record collection and then I understood.
Dad was also a Matt Munro fan and that I got as well. Still trying to understand his love of Herb Albert.
Night & Day with Nelson Riddles arrangement is sublime and probably my favourite Sinatra track. My Dad is a huge Sinatra fan and has been for all of the time I've been on this planet. He has a lot of his Capital recordings on Vinyl many bought in the late 50's along with a lot from the swing era.
Robbie, 'This Guy's In Love With You' is a pretty good tune. Schmaltzy, yes, maybe, but a good tune.
Alvey is something of a specialist.
I'm going to be buying more and more of The Great American Songbook come the New Year.
I agree with "She shot me down" - largely overlooked, and his version of "Thanks for the memory" is sublime.
'I'll Be Around' gets me every time.
When John Simons was a Robert Elms' 'Listed Londoner' did you hear the story he told about being left in charge of Frank's wardrobe while he was playing in London in the late 60s? John was given strict instructions not to look at or try anything on. "And did you?" asked Robert "Of course I did!" said John "I tried it all on. He was a 39 short".
I'd completely forgotten that story!
Growing up Sunday lunchtime was really important. It was the only lunch we sat down to as a family. I hated it. 2pm on the dot I was treated like a god -served burnt offerings. Roast potatoes that resembled cricket balls. Beef or lamb that you could resole your loafers in. Gravy so pungent and thick it looked like cheap toffee. The radio would always be on in the background.
Anyhow, one Sunday I faintly hear the DJ/Presenter play Diane Schuur. I can't believe it. Here's someone from the soul jazz funk underground being played on BBC Radio 2. Next Sunday I listen out again hoping to hear more of the same. Unfortunately, nothing but it's still life defining moment as I hear Wes Montgomery Hear's That Rainy Day for the first time. I listen intently to rest of the show. it was Benny Green's Art of The Songwriter. An hour of the best of the American Songbook. He was a massive Sinatra fan and had written the sleeve notes to Great songs From Great Britain. Typically each show would contain a Sinatra song or reference.
Within 12 months I become pretty knowledgable about Sinatra and the great songwriters, had been introduced the amazing Ella songbook series, liked Mel Torme recordings on Concord, Bobby Darin's albums - never singles, Micheal Feinstein, Tony Bennett's mid career stuff. I started buying books on American songwriters and would regularly go hunting for vocal jazz/easy listening albums. At the time it was unusual as I was only in my early twenties.
Sunday lunch was wonderful. Marvellous scoff.
On the wireless was ‘Round the Horne’ which was either passed fit for Sabbath listening, or the powers that be did not understand it.
There was also ‘The Clitheroe Kid’ and ‘The Navy Lark’ which were tolerable. ‘The Billy Cotton Band’ show was time to switch off ‘Wakey, Wakey!’
Sunday lunch was okay, the bonus being sandwiches on a Monday. I sold these at school. Twenty five pee a time. Not bad money in 1971/72.
I then worked a fiddle on my paper round. More overtly criminal acts came later.
I adored Jimmy Clitheroe and the chap who played his sister's boyfriend. Kingers will remember.
Benny Green! A hero to all right-thinking music fans!
Poor old Jimmy Clitheroe had a sad end on the day of his mother’s funeral.
He did indeed.
I loved him on TV, too, when I was about seven or so. Mid-60s?
I seemed to remember Alan "Fluff" Freemans Pick of the Pops on a Sunday lunchtime, then watching the Big Match afterwards, I think the telly was switched off and Radio 2 put back on.
Sunday's for me as a young boy was Church in the morning, Roast dinner, Church in the afternoon and the rest of the day free. I remember being bored. Parents not even religious and they didn't go to church.
When I was in my twenties it was much better. Swimming in the morning, four points of Stella up the Retreat, Chigwell Row, back home to mum and dad's for a heated up roast in front of the Big Match, couple of ours sleep and then club in Epping or Hainault till midnight, back home for six hours sleep then up for work on a Monday.
Last edited by RobbieB (2021-12-24 12:22:11)
Nothing much to do with Francis Albert, but our mothers, being English, were perhaps not the most subtle or inventive of cooks. Who amongst us now would dream of boiling instead of steaming vegetables?
But, yes, there was nearly always music or something amusing in the background. I have a very vivid memory of 'Eleanor Rigby' playing on the transistor in the Giant vibrator while my mother prepared her own mint sauce (fresh mint from the garden) and my Dad was pouring beer into pewter tankards.