I had a Julia Barbie doll that I adored. Carroll was a beautiful, talented woman, who apparently got her heart ripped out by Sidney Poitier! (If you’re going to get crushed, better by someone fab, I always say.) Here she is with Frank and Dean, in 1965. The first two songs are only Frank and Dean, but they are so great I decided to post this longer clip.
Sheesh, she was gorgeous. At the risk of sounding like my curmudgeonly self, they don’t make entertainers like these three anymore, and that is a tragedy.
Mark Steyn selected George Harrison’s Something, as his song of the week recently, and I could not be happier. It is one of my favourites. Steyn praises Shirley Bassey’s version of the song, and it is lovely, but my favourite version will always be Sinatra’s, here:
Giant, giant talent. If you read French click here for a tribute at Le Figaro. They called him France’s Sinatra, and what is interesting is that he introduced Sinatra when the latter sang at the Olympia in Paris in 1962. The recording is here. (It is a fantastic recording, in spite of what some of the dopey reviewers assert.) It would be impossible for me to choose one favourite Aznavour song, but this one is always in my top five.
One time when my dad was inebriated (which could have been one of virtually any night – or day – during a decades-long period) he told me that he thought there were “five great voices” out there. He began listing them: Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Bobby Darin, Tony Bennett and…he was stumbling around trying to remember the fifth and finally he added “Vic Damone!”
Totally agree. And I think this version of this song is magnificent. I seem to recall it was used in one of the early episodes (maybe the first) of “Mad Men,” when we saw what a cad Don Draper was.
Hello, dear readers, and welcome to the third incarnation of my website. My previous incarnation has not been destroyed, but I am trying to decide whether to link to it or not. There is something to be said for cyber-decluttering, yes? Currently, this site is a tad bare-bones, but for now that should do.
For my first post, I’d like to pay tribute to Rod McKuen, who died recently, and who, throughout his career, got much mockery as a poet. There was a scene in Woody Allen’s wonderful Sleeper, where Diane Keaton, as a poet of the future, recites one of her terrible poems and someone tells her he can hear the influence of McKuen in it.
But heck, he wrote some lovely hokey songs. One of my favourites, sung by the genius himself, Frank Sinatra.