Oct. 9, 1976 review: Frank Sinatra at Memorial Auditorium

 

Sinatra at the peak of his late-career comeback form.

Oct. 9, 1976

‘Ol’ Blue Eyes’ Recaptures

More of That Old Magic

           The brash and ever-popular Frank Sinatra, now 61, recaptured more of the old magic in Memorial Auditorium Friday night than anyone would’ve thought he could a year ago.

          Then he’d just hauled himself out of retirement. Trouble was, his body was puffy and his tenor would crack. These days it seems the only problem was that he’d forgotten how long it would take to get back into shape.

          His return to form gratified the nearly sold-out hallful of swelligant, elegant fans. And a glittering crowd they were.

          Among the three-piece suits, gold jewelry and expensive gowns, this reviewer counted a city official, a county legislator and a TV newsman in one section.

* * *

IN LESS than an hour, they’d gotten a quick warm-up with a blast of Louis Prima’s old band – Sam Butera & the Witnesses – and a double shot of comedian Pat Henry’s ethnic jokes, which drew selective laughter, and lines about sex after age 40, which got chuckles everywhere.

          Henry also recalled Harry Altman and the Town Casino and the restaurants in Buffalo.

          “Boy, did I put on weight here,” he quipped. “I’m still trying to get down to my original weight … 7 pounds, 8 ounces.”

          A few minutes later, he abruptly stopped the patter. “Are you ready for The Boss?” he asked.

* * *

THERE WERE cheers, the lights went up and the enormous center stage – halfway between a boxing ring and a basketball court – was cleared of everything but the black and white bunting, four monitor speakers and a single microphone.

          The lights stayed up as Sinatra came out, voice first.

          And as his recorded croon navigated Barry Manilow’s “I Write (Sing) the Songs,” the singer, who’d arrived in his private jet less than an hour earlier, was steered up the roped-off aisle from the dressing room by a couple beefy bodyguards.

          The big orchestra he’s imported from New York City, some 30 musicians or more, was on the floor. They picked up the tune, sounding strangely distant and attenuated, as if they were playing through an old radio.

* * *

A COUPLE in the next seats agreed he looked thinner and sounded better than last year.

          He was sleek – a skinny kid who’d filled out with success – and his hair was short-cropped and gray as a nickel-plated revolver. A red handkerchief peeked from the breast pocket of his black tuxedo.

          One wondered how he would fill that huge platform all by himself. But that was the wrong question. Does one ask a corporate chief how he would clutter his big desk? Sinatra’s “The Boss.” So he gets a big stage.

          His moves were predictable, but effective. The half-turn that focused onto one chunk of the audience with a gesture of a hand. A stomp of the foot for emphasis. The tossed-off phrasing that’s charmed listeners for a generation.

* * *

BY THE THIRD selection, he was in gear, doing answers to the saxophone of Sam Butera (“My goomba”), who’d crept onto an edge of the stage for Neil Diamond’s “Stargazer.”

          But in the following tune, “Embraceable You,” the limitations were clear. He hurried the tough parts, falling short of the highest notes, graveling out on the low ones. The orchestra went cushiony with violins.

          With one exception, the best of his 15 selections were standard ones that fit his range: “My Funny Valentine” (dedicated to the audience), “The Lady Is a Tramp,” “It Was a Very Good Year” and “Night and Day.”

          In these, the tough guy struck sparks with each artful turn of the lyrics (“She hates California, it’s crowded and damp …”) and the crooner caught every throat-catching lump of sentiment (“I think of my life like a fine old wine in vintage kegs …”).

* * *

HE TOOK 15 minutes out to talk, as well. He introduced his wife Barbara, a youngish blonde beside the stage, and O. J. Simpson, who sat with his wife up in the golds.

          “I don’t care who he plays with,” Sinatra observed. “He’s the greatest athlete I’ve ever seen.”

          He joked about the Presidential race and said he might declare himself a write-in candidate for the White House.

* * *

SINATRA CLOSED with a song he said he gets letters about when he doesn’t do it.

          “I thought I hated ‘Strangers in the Night,’ but I HATE this song. I’m doing it under protest,” he asserted. It was “My Way.”

          Those who though this would be their last chance to see Ol’ Blue Eyes are probably wrong. He looked pretty strong this time around. And retirement? As he jetted out after the show, chances are that was the last thing on his mind.

* * * * *

IN THE PHOTO: Frank Sinatra in 1976.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTE: It was a very good year indeed for Ol’ Blue Eyes. It was the high point in number of concert dates following his return from “retirement” in 1973. He reunited Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis for the first time in almost 20 years for the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. And he and the former Barbara Marx had just gotten married in July. The reviewer of his show in Syracuse noted how her wedding ring “twinkled under the lights.”

What he sang in Buffalo, according to setlist.fm:

I Write the Songs

Where or When

Stargazer

The Lady Is a Tramp

Embraceable You

I Get Along Without You Very Well

For Once in My Life

Like a Sad Song

This Is All I Ask

Empty Tables

It Was a Very Good Year

Night and Day

My Way