Features

SINATRA LITE

November 2002
Features
SINATRA LITE
November 2002

SINATRA LITE

COME DRINK WITH ME!, 1954

One of Sinatra's early concept albums, Come Drink with Me! featured Billy May's swinging arrangements of standards such as "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" and "How Dry I Am." But times and attitudes change: during the 1980s, the LP came under attack for lyrics such as this stanza from the exuberant title song (written by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen): "Come drink with me / There's a fifth stashed in my car /

If we have a wreck / Then what the heck / We can always find a bar." Facing boycotts, Capitol Records quietly deleted Come Drink with Me! from its catalogue, along with two similarly themed sequels, A Blotto Affair and Sinatra's Stinkin Drunk Session.

FRANK SINATRA PRESENTS TRAIN WHISTLES, BATTLESHIP LAUNCHES, DRILL PRESSES, AND OTHER GREAT HI-FI SOUND EFFECTS, 1952 At a low ebb in his career, a year before his comeback role in

From Here to Eternity, Sinatra lent his name to this hi-fi-demonstration record. But aside from posing for the cover photo, his only contribution was an under-rehearsed duet with an audio frequency of 18,000 Hz. The result: album sales in the low teens and cancellation of a planned Frank Sinatra Presents 31 Minutes of Room Tone.

WE SHALL OVERCOME, BABY, 1962

This brassy take on the civil-rights anthem, a duet with Sammy Davis Jr., was intended as a fund-raiser for the N.A.A.C.P But Negro leaders raised tentative objections to the single's between-verses Vegas-style patter. (Sammy: "I have a dream—can you dig it?" Frank: "Would you listen to this meshuggeshvartzer.") Stung, an angry Sinatra pulled the record, which was largely forgotten until the 1975 release of old F.B.I. surveillance tapes on which Martin Luther King Jr. was heard entertaining friends with a canny impression of Sinatra's performance on the B side ("The answer, Jack, is blowin' in that cuckoo wind ... ").

FRANK SINATRA CONDUCTS ... FOR SUICIDAL LOVERS, 1958

A talented conductor, Sinatra released a number of instrumental records over the years. But a song suite based on scores from volatile ex-wife Ava Gardner's films, conceived after one of the couple's many failed reconciliations? More curious still was Sinatra's visibly distraught deportment at the LP's first session, where his choked sobs and muttered imprecations were audible during the 24-bar bassoon solo from "Head in the Oven (Theme from Mogambo)." Capitol execs enlisted Sinatra pal Jilly Rizzo to intervene: while the singer spent a quiet two months at an "estate" in Connecticut, further sessions for Suicidal Lovers were "indefinitely postponed."

ONE FOR THE BROADS, 1957

An LP devoted to songs with women's names in their titles—"Laura," "Nancy (with the Laughing Face)," "Waltzing Matilda"—seemed like a natural. But One for the Broads ran into trouble when record sellers balked at the cover art, which some considered risque. (As Billboard front-paged the controversy, DISTRIBS CLAIM SINATRA LP "NICE 'N' SLEAZY.") With tens of thousands of albums ready to ship, Capitol quickly slapped on a more generic cover featuring a five-year-old fashion shot of Suzy Parker. Resourceful fans just as quickly learned how to steam it off, thus creating a future collectible: last year, Jerry Seinfeld reportedly bought a near-mint copy for $800,000!

FRANK SINATRA SINGS THE BUDDY GIANCANA SONGBOOK, 1971

"A favor—leave it at that" was Sinatra's explanation for one of the oddest releases of his career. Buddy Giancana was a relative unknown as a songwriter, and many of his efforts—"I've Got You Under My Shirt," "All or Practically Nothing at All," "Let's Call the Whole Thing Over"—were dismissed by critics as derivative. ("The Moon in June," said Time, was "the most slapdash thing Sinatra ever put his larynx to.") Reporters wanted to know: Was Giancana a nephew of Chicago crime boss Sam Giancana? And did the elder Giancana control publishing rights to the "songwriter's" catalogue? Poor sales rendered these questions—and a threatened Senate-subcommittee hearing—moot.

Over the course of his long career, Frank Sinatra put out more than 60 albums, among them such greatly beloved classics asSongs for Swingin Lovers!, Only the Lonely, Come Fly with Me, A Swingin ' Affair!, Ring-A-Ding Ding!, andSeptember of My Years.But not all of Sinatra's releases were as successful, as enduringor even, strictly speaking, as real. BRUCE HANDY imagines the flip side of a legend

IN-A- GAD DA- SINATRA!, 1969

One of Sinatra's numerous late-60s attempts to crack the "youth market," the centerpiece of In-A-Gadda-Sinatra! was to have been a reworking of Iron Butterfly's 17-minute psychedelic opus, "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," arranged by Nelson Riddle for brass, strings, harp, and Fender Rhodes piano. But Sinatra stalked out of the first session, never to return, after a cellist accidentally convulsed with laughter. Riddle's innovative charts were scrapped, and the project would evolve into a poorly received collaboration with the pop group Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK!, 1980 Test pressings of the "New York, New York" single mistakenly used a rehearsal take, complete with Sinatra's colorful ad-libs ("Start spreading your legs ... These little town blue balls ... "). The error was caught when a New York oldies station played a promotional copy and saw its switchboard light up with hundreds of requests from snickering callers in their teens. Though this story has been dismissed by some as an urban legend, Sinatra's "alternative" lyrics can still be heard during postgame sing-alongs in the more vomit-prone precincts of Yankee Stadium.