Album Review: Frank Sinatra Lost and Found: The Radio Years (2015)

Album cover of Frank Sinatra Lost and Found: The Radio Years, 2015.

Frank Sinatra with an NBC microphone, 1940's.

Frank Sinatra hosted several radio shows during the 1940’s, and he recorded many songs on these shows that he never recorded for Columbia, his record label at the time. Fortunately for Sinatraphiles, many of those radio shows were recorded and have since been released, either officially or unofficially. Frank Sinatra Lost and Found: The Radio Years features 23 previously unreleased Sinatra radio performances. This CD was issued in 2015, and it’s only sold through the Smithsonian. If you’re a fan of Sinatra’s Columbia recordings, it’s a must-have. I wrote a lengthy overview of Sinatra’s Columbia period, 1943-1952, here.

The performances on Lost and Found: The Radio Years were recorded between 1942 and 1949, and they find Sinatra in excellent voice throughout. The Sinatra of the 1940’s possessed a warm baritone voice that had a strikingly pure tone. The intimacy of Sinatra’s vocal delivery was a key to his appeal—by some magical trick, it felt as though he was singing directly to the listener. Millions of young women across the country felt this way, and when you consider that this beautiful voice came out of a young man with piercing blue eyes, a winning smile, and a generous amount of dark, wavy hair—yes, he actually did have hair in those days—it’s no wonder that he became such a heartthrob. 

Those millions of young women were absolutely right to adore Sinatra, as his singing style marked a definite break with the male crooners who had come before him. Although Sinatra was influenced by Bing Crosby, he didn’t sound like Crosby, and didn’t try to. Sinatra didn’t sound like anyone. His approach to phrasing was also very different from other singers—Sinatra was trying to make his phrases as long as possible, in order to sustain the proper mood and feeling of a song. Although Sinatra didn’t even have a high school diploma, he was an autodidact who brought forth a highly developed psychological astuteness to the songs he sang. Sinatra carefully considered every phrase of the lyrics that he sang, and this brought an emotional depth to his interpretations of songs that other singers simply didn’t have. 

Lost and Found: The Radio Years previews some songs that would eventually become some of Sinatra’s most famous—“I Get a Kick Out of You,” “Just One of Those Things,” and “I Won’t Dance.” While these early versions are lovely, and very interesting to hear, they don’t have the same swing that Sinatra’s more famous recordings of them from the 1950’s do. Sinatra was looser in the 1950’s, unafraid to experiment with the rhythm and timing of his vocals. The 1940’s versions are also lacking the excellent Nelson Riddle arrangements that these tunes sported when Sinatra re-recorded them in the 1950’s. Although it was actually George Siravo who did the arrangement for the 1953 version of “I Get a Kick Out of You.” (You can read all about that on my review of Songs for Young Lovers and Swing Easy.) There’s a fun moment on the version of “I Get a Kick Out of You” on Lost and Found when the girls scream in protest as Sinatra sings the lyric, “you obviously don’t adore me.”  

Other highlights of the disc include two transportation-themed songs both introduced by Judy Garland—“The Trolley Song” from Meet Me in St. Louis, and “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe,” from The Harvey Girls. This was the only time Sinatra recorded these songs, and they’re enjoyable rarities to have. It’s also fun to hear the audience reaction to Sinatra on “I’ll Get By,” where you can hear the girls scream for him. Frank even mocks their reaction by squealing himself, which of course makes the girls squeal louder. “Ballerina” is a superb example of Sinatra bringing his excellent interpretative powers to a typical pop song and creating something that stirs an emotional response in the listener. There’s also a lovely version of “I Found a New Baby” with the Nat King Cole Trio. Unfortunately, Cole is only playing piano and doesn’t sing with Sinatra, but it’s still a nice moment to have. Cole accompanies Sinatra superbly, and then double-times his solo before slowing back down when Frank re-enters at the end. Frank also sings two songs more closely associated with his Rat Pack buddy Dean Martin, “Powder Your Face with Sunshine (Smile, Smile, Smile)” Dino’s first Top Ten hit from 1949, and “You’ll Always Be the One I Love,” the B-side of Martin’s 1964 version of “You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You.” 

Lost and Found: The Radio Years is yet more proof of the remarkable depth of Frank Sinatra’s recorded legacy. More than seventy years after these radio shows were recorded, they add to our knowledge and appreciation of Sinatra’s art.

Album Review: Frank Sinatra Live at the Meadowlands (2009)

Album cover of Frank Sinatra Live at the Meadowlands, a 1986 concert that was released in 2009.

Frank Sinatra in concert in the 1980's.

The 2009 CD Frank Sinatra Live at the Meadowlands is a recording of Sinatra’s concert on March 14, 1986. It’s an excellent concert recording from late in Sinatra’s career. By this point in his career, Sinatra’s voice was not what it once had been. However, on this recording he sounds very good and his phrasing was still immaculate, as always. This isn’t just a great concert for late-period Sinatra; it’s a great Sinatra concert, regardless of the time period. The set list is an interesting mix, and it only has seven songs in common with Sinatra’s 1987 Dallas concert that was just released on this year’s Standing Room Only boxed set, which I reviewed here. 

Some highlights of the show are the lovely “Where or When,” “Nice ‘n’ Easy,” which Sinatra didn’t often sing in concert, and the beautiful “My Heart Stood Still,” which features Frank holding the last note for about ten seconds. It’s a wonderful thing to hear. There’s a nice, swinging version of Irving Berlin’s “Change Partners.” Sinatra never recorded that arrangement, so it’s a nice rarity. He recorded a gorgeous bossa nova version in 1967 for the sublime Francis Albert Sinatra & Antonio Carlos Jobim album.

You can hear how Sinatra would always change his phrasing on songs like “It Was a Very Good Year,” where his inflections are quite different from the 1965 studio version. On the studio version, he smoothly connects the phrase “for blue-blooded girls, of independent means,” but here he sings “of in-de-pen-dent means.” 

This concert also features a fantastic version of “You Make Me Feel So Young.” It’s never been my favorite Sinatra song, but his subtle changes in phrasing might make this my favorite version of the song. He just sounds so exuberant singing it; it’s very fun to hear. 

There are superb versions of the ballads “The Gal that Got Away” and “Come Rain or Come Shine.” “Come Rain or Come Shine” has long been one of my favorite Sinatra recordings, with a stirring arrangement by Don Costa.

The swinging side of Sinatra is also well represented by exemplary versions of “Theme from New York, New York,” “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” and Frank’s take on “Mack the Knife.” I love Bobby Darin’s version of “Mack the Knife,” but I love Frank’s version too. In it, Sinatra credits the singers who have sung the song before him, as he sings, “Old Satchmo-Louis Armstrong, Bobby Darin/they did this song nice, Lady Ella too/they all sang it with so much feeling/that Old Blue Eyes he ain’t gonna add nothing new.” Sinatra then sings: “But with this great big band right behind me/swingin’ hard, Jack, I know I can’t lose.” He then name-checks his rhythm section: “We got Don Baldini we got William Miller we got Tony Mottola Irv Cottler bringin’ up the rear/all these bad cats are in this band now/they make the greatest sounds/you ever gonna hear.” It might sound cheesy, but I really like it, maybe because it’s just fun to hear Frank singing about singing. 

Sinatra obviously enjoyed “Moonlight in Vermont,” as it shows up on other concert recordings of the period. He’s no longer able to do the marvelous phrasing device he does on the 1957 recording on Come Fly with Me, where he strings together the phrase “people who meet in this romantic setting are so hypnotized by the lovely evening summer breeze.” He elongates the e at the end of “lovely,” holds the note, and then connects it to the e at the beginning of “evening.” It’s a spine-tingling moment. I read an interview with Steve Lawrence, who was saying that he was discussing “Moonlight in Vermont” with Sinatra, and Lawrence pointed out to Sinatra that the song didn’t rhyme. For all of his close attention to lyrics, Sinatra hadn’t noticed that before. 

As in other concerts of this period, Sinatra mentions the songwriter and the arranger before almost every song, and always says what a fantastic song it is. I feel as though in those little moments we get a sense of Sinatra the musician, the artist behind the icon, the singer who is interpreting the lyrics to the best of his considerable talents. I have no doubt that Frank Sinatra was a difficult man at times, and that he had a more than healthy ego; however, what I hear in those little moments is the humble Frank Sinatra, the one who knew that it was through the hard work and great talents of many other people, including songwriters, arrangers, and musicians, that he was able to express himself through song, and to present his amazing talent to the world. In the twenty years since Sinatra left us, his artistic legacy is stronger than ever, and Live at the Meadowlands is a reminder of how great Sinatra was.

Frank Sinatra's 100th Birthday

Frank Sinatra, 1950's.

The greatest singer ever, in action during the 1950's.

One hundred years ago today, Frank Sinatra was born. Sinatra would go on to become one of the major entertainers of the 20^th century. His performing career spanned 60 years, from his days singing on the “Major Bowes Amateur Hour” radio show to headlining at majors concert hall in the United States and around the world. (Sinatra would sometimes use the phrase “Major Bowes Amateur Hour Loser” as a put-down.) Similar to Bing Crosby, Sinatra’s popularity stretched across several different mediums as Sinatra became a star on radio, television, and film. Also like Crosby, Sinatra won an Academy Award for his acting. Crosby once memorably said of Sinatra, “A fellow like that only comes around once in a lifetime. Why did it have to be mine?”

Sinatra’s recording career went through several different phases. His first recordings were made with the big band of Harry James. Sinatra left James’ band to join trombonist Tommy Dorsey’s band from 1940 to 1942, and they made many hit singles together. When Sinatra left Dorsey’s band, it was a risky move, trading the sure thing for the chance to have more artistic freedom over his work. Even in Sinatra’s early records you can hear something in his voice that set him apart from the other male big band vocalists of his era. While others tried to do their own version of Crosby’s crooning style, Sinatra, though obviously influenced by Crosby, didn’t try to imitate Bing. Sinatra was always his own man, and his singing style, full of sensual romantic yearning, set bobby soxer’s hearts aflame. The girls who were screaming for Frank at the Paramount Theater in the 1940’s understood that he was making love to them through his songs. Sinatra might not have been conventionally handsome, but he had very striking features, including a winning smile, piercing blue eyes, and at this time, a head full of dark, wavy hair. He also had a strong personal magnetism and loads of charisma. 

Sinatra’s solo recording career began at Columbia Records in 1943. (I reviewed Sinatra’s complete Columbia recordings here.) Singing lush, beautiful ballads, he became one of the most successful vocalists of the 1940’s. As the decade ended, however, his career seemed to be on the wane. The break-up of his first marriage, his scandalous and disastrous affair with Ava Gardner, and some vocal problems made some think that Sinatra was past his prime. Without a film or recording contract, Sinatra’s future did not look bright.

But the brightest time was still to come. In 1953, Sinatra signed with Capitol Records, recorded with the arranger Nelson Riddle for the first time, and played the role of Maggio in From Here to Eternity. He won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor as Maggio, and his records started selling again. One of the great comebacks in show business history was now complete. In Nelson Riddle, Sinatra had found his perfect arranger. It’s my own personal contention that Riddle’s arrangements for Sinatra are one of the prime reasons why Sinatra is the greatest male vocalist. No one else had arrangements that good that fit their voices as perfectly as Riddle’s fit Sinatra’s. It also helped that Sinatra’s voice sounded better than ever in the 1950’s. In the 1940’s, Sinatra’s voice had been achingly pure and perfect. Now in the 1950’s his voice was slightly lower, with a more assured and confident air. The music was also changing too. Whereas ballads had made up 75% of Sinatra’s repertoire in the 1940’s, now swinging songs alternated with those ballads. Sinatra showed off his jazzy side with albums like “Swing Easy!,” “Songs for Swingin’ Lovers,” and “A Swingin’ Affair!” Sinatra showed that not only was he the best ballad singer, he was also the best swing singer around as well. Sinatra’s phrasing was always superb, and he was able to sustain long phrases, giving the songs more emotional depth.

Sinatra’s status as a pop icon would be cemented in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s as he palled around Las Vegas with Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr., and became friends with President John F. Kennedy. Sinatra started his own record label, Reprise, in 1961, and encouraged many of his famous friends, like Dean and Sammy, to record for his label. Reprise only lasted two years as a true independent record company, as it was sold to Warner Brothers in 1963, but it was a bold and audacious move. Sinatra’s records for Reprise during the 1960’s were still excellent, although they don’t seem to have the cultural cache of Sinatra’s Capitol albums. 

Turning 50 was a big event for Sinatra, and he marked it by recording the terrific album “September of My Years,” and by taping the TV special “A Man and His Music.” (Sinatra also released a double album career retrospective called “A Man and His Music.”) It was during the taping of “A Man and His Music” that journalist Gay Talese followed Sinatra around and wrote his classic profile for Esquire magazine, “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold.” (You can read the full essay here; it’s still one of the best pieces written about Sinatra.)

For the rest of his life Sinatra continued to pack concert halls and stadiums full of people anxious to see him in person. The last two records he made “Duets” and “Duets II” were both Top Ten albums and both sold more than one million copies. 

Sinatra is still a towering figure in American pop culture, and even though he passed away in 1998, his name is synonymous with great music. I think he would be very happy at how he’s remembered by his many fans and admirers around the world.

Movie Review: Frank Sinatra: All or Nothing at All, directed by Alex Gibney (2015)

Poster for Frank Sinatra: All or Nothing at All, directed by Alex Gibney, 2015. I love that photo of Frank.

Frank Sinatra, circa 1961. Frank wore hats better than anyone.

An intense Frank Sinatra in the studio.

Frank Sinatra, 1970's. Note his trademark orange pocket square-orange was his favorite color.

Frank Sinatra is one of the major figures in 20^th century American entertainment. Few figures before or since have held the public’s imagination for as long as Sinatra did. Sinatra was a cultural touchstone for multiple generations, from the time he emerged as a singer with the Tommy Dorsey band in the early 1940’s until his death in 1998. 2015 is the centennial of Sinatra’s birth, and nearly twenty years after his death Sinatra remains firmly entrenched in American pop culture. 

The 2015 HBO documentary Frank Sinatra: All or Nothing at All offers a four-hour glimpse into Sinatra’s life. The documentary takes its structure from the set list of Sinatra’s 1971 retirement concert. (Sinatra came out of retirement in 1973.) The film’s premise is that the songs Sinatra chose for his retirement concert reflected an overview of his career. I agree with that premise, and the idea behind that premise makes the documentary more than just a “and then he did this” film. 

I’ve written about Frank Sinatra before, covering his years on the Columbia Records label from 1943-1952, my 10 favorite Sinatra albums, and a piece covering the best Sinatra compilation albums. I’m a huge admirer of Sinatra’s amazing talent. 

All or Nothing at All is directed by Alex Gibney, who also directed the superb documentary Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief for HBO. All or Nothing at All is wonderfully made; it’s a great example of documentary making at its finest. The research into Sinatra’s life is deep, and Gibney and his team have unearthed superb video and audio recordings of Sinatra talking candidly about his life and career. There’s a lot of wonderful material on Sinatra’s early life in Hoboken, and his rise to fame signing with the Tommy Dorsey band. Early film clips show how revolutionary Sinatra’s singing style was. Sinatra’s voice was extremely intimate, as he seduces the listener through his ballad singing. It’s easy to see why women went nuts for him. 

The first two hours of All or Nothing at All take us through Sinatra’s rise in the 1940’s to his decline in the early 1950’s, when he was battling vocal problems, more competition from singers like Tony Bennett, Perry Como, Vic Damone, Johnnie Ray, and Eddie Fisher, and a relationship with Ava Gardner best described as tempestuous and doomed. By the end of 1952 Sinatra had been dumped by his record label and MGM had dropped his movie contract. It seemed as though he was headed for the has-been pile. 

The second part of the documentary covers Sinatra’s career from his remarkable comeback in 1953 to his retirement concert in 1971. 1953 was a pivotal year for Sinatra, as he signed a contract with Capitol Records, where he met the arranger Nelson Riddle and created the classic songs and albums that have made him a legend. 1953 was also the year that Sinatra played the role of Maggio in From Here to Eternity, one of his finest acting performances, which deservedly won him the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. I wish that All or Nothing at All focused a little more on Sinatra’s films. Sinatra was a truly talented actor who delivered a number of excellent performances in films like From Here to Eternity, Suddenly, The Man with the Golden Arm, Guys and Dolls, Pal Joey, Some Came Running, and The Manchurian Candidate. But that’s a small quibble.

All or Nothing at All focuses on many of Sinatra’s personal relationships, and there are excellent interviews with Frank’s first wife Nancy, the mother of his three children. The treatment of Sinatra’s other wives was a little more problematic for me. I found Gina Gershon’s voiceover narration of Ava Gardner’s writings to be terribly overdone, and there was just way too much about Mia Farrow, which got boring for me pretty quickly. There’s also just one cursory mention of Sinatra’s fourth wife, Barbara Marx, whose marriage to Frank lasted longer than his other three marriages combined. 

The documentary doesn’t shy away from controversy, covering Sinatra’s famous feud with gossip columnist Lee Mortimer, whom Sinatra knocked out in 1947, after Mortimer had called Sinatra a Communist in his column. Sinatra’s dislike of columnist Dorothy Kilgallen isn’t mentioned, but you can hear him express his feelings towards her in live recordings in the 1950’s and 1960’s. (He was fond of calling her “The Chinless Wonder.”) The film also covers Sinatra’s associations with the Mafia, and his acquaintance with Chicago mob boss Sam Giancana. Sinatra’s children say point blank that Giancana and the Mob tipped the 1960 election to John F. Kennedy by making sure that Illinois ended up in the Kennedy column. What no one ever mentions about the 1960 election is that Kennedy had enough electoral votes to win the election even if he had lost Illinois. Sinatra was very close to JFK, and organized his official Inaugural gala. Eventually Sinatra fell out with JFK after Bobby Kennedy warned his brother to steer clear of Sinatra due to his Mob connections. JFK then canceled a planned trip to stay with Sinatra in Palm Springs, and stayed with Bing Crosby (a Republican!) instead. 

All or Nothing at All does a superb job of focusing on Sinatra’s politics, and his personal beliefs. Sinatra was a staunch Democrat in the 1940’s, who campaigned tirelessly for FDR’s fourth term in 1944, and was an unstinting champion of civil rights for African-Americans long before it was fashionable. The FBI investigated Sinatra for decades, not only because of his Mafia connections, but also because he was regarded as a liberal who might be a Communist. Sinatra gradually grew more conservative, eventually supporting Richard Nixon in 1972 and Ronald Reagan in 1980 and 1984. The movie makes a little too much of Sinatra’s political switch, hinting that his support of Republican candidates was linked to his rejection by the Kennedys. I disagree with that. Sinatra worked very hard for Hubert Humphrey in 1968, appearing at a rally at the Houston Astrodome with Humphrey just two days before the election, and filming a TV ad in support of Humphrey. Sinatra endorsed his friend Ronald Reagan in 1970 when Reagan was running for re-election as Governor of California. In the documentary, Sinatra says that he has been friends with Reagan since 1943. Sinatra was no fan of the hippie culture, and that combined with his personal friendship with Reagan likely started his drift rightward. Sinatra endorsed Richard Nixon’s re-election bid in 1972, but due to Democratic nominee George McGovern’s unpopularity, there was a very large “Democrats for Nixon” group that year, so Sinatra’s support of Nixon wasn’t that unusual. I think Sinatra did get more conservative as he got older, but I also think his shift to the right was greatly influenced by his friendship with Ronald Reagan. 

What amazes me about the richness of Frank Sinatra’s life is that All or Nothing at All is a four hour documentary, and yet there’s still so much more of his life that could be covered. Granted, I’m a huge Sinatraphile, and I understand that four hours might be plenty for most people. But there are gaps, as All or Nothing at All offers only a cursory glance at Sinatra’s career post-1971. That isn’t the biggest loss, since Sinatra’s cultural impact was greatest during the 1940’s, 1950’s, and 1960’s, but still, Sinatra lived for another 27 years. 

I think that the people interviewed for All or Nothing at All did an excellent job of articulating Sinatra’s importance, but there were three Sinatra experts I wish had been a part of the project. I’m a huge fan of Michael Feinstein’s singing and his tireless advocacy for the music of the Great American Songbook. There’s no one who knows more about the songs of that era that Michael Feinstein, and he was a terrific commentator on this year’s American Masters documentary on Bing Crosby. I think Feinstein would have been a great addition to All or Nothing at All. I was also annoyed that two of the best authors about Sinatra’s music weren’t interviewed. Will Friedwald, who wrote the excellent book Sinatra! The Song is You: A Singer’s Art, and Charles Granata, who wrote the superb Sessions with Sinatra: Frank Sinatra and the Art of Recording, were nowhere to be found in the documentary. Who knows, maybe Granata and Friedwald didn’t want to be part of All or Nothing at All, but I would have enjoyed a little bit more content about Sinatra’s singing style and his phrasing. 

Something that struck me while watching film clips of Sinatra sing is how much charisma the man had. You simply cannot take your eyes off of him. It’s only in film clips that you can really see how strikingly blue his eyes were, photos don’t seem to quite capture the color. Even as he aged, Sinatra remained an extremely handsome man, always dapper, with his usual orange pocket square. (Orange was Sinatra’s favorite color.)

Quibbles aside, All or Nothing at All is a fascinating look at one of the most interesting artists of the 20^th century, and a man whose contribution to singing will be deeply felt in centuries to come.