Frank Sinatra's recorded legacy
However Sinatra, as he himself once noted, sang more, by which he meant that he introduced a bel canto sound to the tradition begun by Crosby.
Sinatra regularly heard "Lady Day" in New York clubs in the 1940s and learned from her the importance of authenticity of emotion.
For Sinatra a song is a three- to four-minute narrative — sometimes even the story of himself, his own life, his own heartaches, his own feelings of buoyancy — and this is why Ella Fitzgerald could say of him, "With Frank, it's always this little guy, telling this ...
In addition to this, Sinatra started to jog and swim underwater to develop his lung capacity — which enabled him to continue a musical phrase through a stanza without pausing, or breaking the note, for breath.
Sinatra's legato-style of singing/phrasing took pop singing in new directions when most singers of the 1940s were keen to emulate Bing Crosby.
As happens with many singers, Sinatra suffered at least one period of major vocal difficulty, which he remedied with the help of Metropolitan Opera baritone Robert Merrill.
According to music critic Henry Pleasants "The voice itself was a typical Italian light baritone with a two octave range from G to G, declining, as it darkened in later years, to F to F and with greater potential at the top than he was commonly disposed to exploit.
On his recording 'Day by Day,' for example he gives out with full-voiced, admirably focused D's and E's and even lands a briefly held but confident high G just before the end.
His first recordings on which he wielded the baton were instigated by producer Mitch Miller, who approached Columbia boss Maine Sachs to request that Sinatra conduct some of the work of Alec Wilder, later released as Frank Sinatra Conducts The Music Of Alec Wilder.
In 1957 and 1959, he conducted albums for Peggy Lee — The Man I Love — and Dean Martin — Sleep Warm — the latter, charting inside Billboard's Top 40.
In addition, Sinatra would and did tackle several styles and genres of music throughout his career, with differing degrees of success.
The list of Sinatra's jazz admirers is long and stellar, including such figures as Count Basie, Stan Getz, Oscar Peterson[5] and Jaco Pastorius.
1 on the Billboard Hot 100 after the advent of the rock and roll era: "Learnin' the Blues" (1955), "Strangers in the Night" (1966), and "Somethin' Stupid" (1967), the last a duet with daughter Nancy.
Whether in nightclubs, casinos, arenas, or stadiums, Sinatra was one of the most mesmeric entertainers of the twentieth century, capable of turning the largest venue into a simulacrum of an intimate club.
1955's In the Wee Small Hours is the prime example: a set of songs specifically recorded for the album, using only ballads, organized around a central mood of late-night isolation and aching lost love (supposedly due to his separation from Ava Gardner), with a now-classic album cover reflecting the theme.
The following year's Songs For Swingin' Lovers took an alternate tack, recording existing pop standards in a hipper, jazzier fashion, revealing an overall exuberance; Rolling Stone placed it No.
The lavish The Concert Sinatra (1963) offered re-recordings of "Ol' Man River" and "You'll Never Walk Alone", backed by a 73-piece orchestra.
1965's September of My Years, according to critic Stephen Holden "summed up the punchy sentimentality of a whole generation of American men".
Then I will meet with the orchestrator... Usually we wind up doing it the way the arranger feels it should be done, because he understands more than I do about it..." Frank Sinatra holds the unique distinction of singing on the first Billboard No.
