Thank you, Jill for Speaking The Truth about ol’ Frankie. His whole career was made with a vocal range of maybe one octave. Eventually, he became a caricature of himself. His popularity was born out of the same demographic pile of swooning teens that accelerated the Beatles to stardom. The difference is that the Beatles were supremely talented, but look at them closely, they’re really not four attractive guys, it’s just that swooning teenage girls become blind to either lack of exceptional talent or exceptional looks. Frankie filled a postwar need for teen idols, who cared if he couldn’t really sing?
For years growing up, on Sunday mornings my parents would put the radio on to the Sid Mark show. Sid played only one thing: Frank Sinatra. Over and over and over. Every sunday I would preach to them breifly about how badly he sucked, and I would get the same answer: It’s his “phrasing”. “You just don’t understand”. Slowly the answer mutated into, “He used to be so good. His phrasing was wonderful”. Finally, after years of suffering, I won. They stopped playing him. I asked why. The reply, “He can’t sing, and his phrasing is so contrived that we just can’t stand to hear him anymore”.
That’s alright with me, Jack!
(Hey, Jill, what’s the problem with Croce? He was good!)