New Jack Swing

by

Jack Jones

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This album appeared two years before Jack's quintessential "Jack Jones Paints a Tribute to Tony Bennett." No doubt its up-tempo, fully-orchestrated arrangements will appeal to many listeners more than the later album. At the very least, however, it should be seen as a complement to its essential successor.

The liner notes claim Jack is the only singer whose "musical intelligence and vocal chops" qualify him to pick up the Sinatra mantel (Jack himself dedicates the album to Sinatra). No argument from me. Even apart from some significant differences, Jack's voice now has a Sinatra "edge" to it, permitting him to grab on to notes in a manner that, say, Tony Bennett or Bobby Caldwell cannot. The man clearly can swing. (Recently a musical acquaintance challenged me to support that claim. Admittedly, there's discouragingly little recorded evidence, but I simply played the following two juxtapositions: "All or Nothing at All"--1st Barry Manilow's version from a mid-90s recording with the Harry James (ghost) band, then Jack Jones' version; 2nd, Sting's "Every Breath You Take" as performed by The Police followed by Jack's rollicking take on the tune. At that point I was able to rest my case, though I had Jack's "Mack the Knife" ready for insurance.)

But there are definitely some serious caveats: Most of the tunes on the collection are contemporary ephemera. Perhaps all the more to Jack's credit that he, like Sinatra, is able to transform all but one into enjoyable, foot-tapping performances (the exception being "Color of the Wind"). But another inescapable feature of the album is the generic, formulaic quality of the arrangements. No Nelson Riddle, Billy May, Neal Hefti, or Johnny Mandel on board here. In fact, the use of electric bass and what sounds like a digital piano reminds me of some of the karaoke tracks used by wannabe crooners. The arrangements are admittedly feasible and the playing polished but at the same time quite "mechanical." Whereas a Sinatra album almost always conveyed the sense of a total event--the presence and freedom of a singer being recorded in front of a large orchestra in "real time"--I can easily imagine Jack laying down his voice to these tracks at a later date.

The answer? The later ballad album, with its sensitive and frequently exquisite, in-the-moment accompaniment by Mike Renzi's trio, along with some of the most inspired, heart-felt performances by a male singer since, well, "Only the Lonely," "In the Wee Small Hours," and "No One Cares."