Sinatra and Jazz

Frank Sinatra never referred to himself as a jazz singer but nevertheless he dominated the male vocalist category of the two most prominent jazz publications – “Downbeat” and “Metronome.” And on December 17, 1946 Sinatra joined the other winners of the “Metronome” reader's poll to cut what turned out to be a much celebrated recording of the jazz standard Sweet Lorraine.

Sinatra was backed by an array of legendary jazz musicians including Nat King Cole, Coleman Hawkins, Harry Carney, Charlie Shavers, the incomparable Lawrence Brown, Johnny Hodges, Eddie Safranski, and Buddy Rich. The recording remains a much acclaimed jazz showpiece.

Sinatra swings. And the way he swings includes an awful lot of jazz influence and expressive jazz technique. This 1946 Sinatra recording of Sweet Lorraine with the Metronome All Stars makes for an intriguing comparison with what was to come.

Sinatra and jazz. But first a bit of context.

The virtues that are essential to his art – understated swing, his imagination, tone, diction, phrasing, sense of time and an intelligent understanding of lyrics – are all first principles of a jazz singer.

Sinatra’s subtle rhythmic control, his use of different pitches and timbres, his ability to hold notes, sing above or behind the beat, the way he bends and draws out a note, or the way he varies the accent on a key phrase . . . these are all jazz elements Sinatra integrated into a markedly personal sound. A signature Sinatra sound it’s impossible to imagine without the influence of jazz.

Sinatra left the Tommy Dorsey band to go solo in 1942, was a smash hit in a famed run at New York’s Paramount Theatre, and signed a big recording contract with Columbia where he continued his run as music’s hottest performer.

“Metronome,” the eminent jazz magazine, gathered the stars of its reader poll to record a 78-rpm single, in this case, the jazz standard Sweet Lorraine written in 1928 by Cliff Burwell with words by Mitchell Parish.

Sweet Lorraine provides a delicious example of Sinatra’s mastery of tempo. Taken at a moderate swing, the record opens with an infectious piano vamp from Nat Cole, a lick from Eddie Safranski’s bass, and Buddy Rich’s brushes. Sinatra joins in and sings a chorus and a half at the head helped along by Harry Carney shadowing him with baritone sax fills.

In the middle of the opening stanza, listen to the way Sinatra uses a series of syncopated pauses to vary the tempo – hurrying the beat, singing a little ahead of the beat, then offering tiny hesitations as he sings just behind the beat. Subtle tempo shifts delivered naturally and with such ease that the listener is hardly aware.

Sy Oliver’s arrangement leaves room for each of these great players to solo. The illustrious trombonist Lawrence Brown delivers a marvelous rhythmic give-and-take solo followed by his Duke Ellington bandmate Johnny Hodges’ brief but beautifully swinging alto sax solo. Charlie Shavers’ trumpet joins the fun with a sparkling syncopated turn and the inimitable Coleman Hawkins delivers a finishing touch to the solo breaks with his rich, pulsating tenor sax. Gracious.

Gradually mounting in dynamics and intensity, at the out chorus Sinatra plays with the rhythm, his vocal lagging just behind the beat. Good golly. Sy Oliver’s head arrangement vamp returns as fill and dig Sinatra’s rhythmic twists before he brings the piece to a conclusion with a swinging, “That’s gonna be the day, when I marry my Lorraine” coda.

Sinatra more than holds his own alongside these virtuoso jazz stalwarts. The respect and congenial musical rapport between the singer and these jazz giants highlights this marvelous recording.

I’d be remiss not to mention that in 1940 the King Cole Trio recorded Sweet Lorraine. And Nat’s marvelous “cool” rendition of the song became his first hit.

I think it might be a rewarding endeavor to analyze and juxtapose the swinging Sinatra of 1946 and the fully mature swinging Sinatra of his late Capitol period.

Cliff Burwell and Mitchell Parish’s Sweet Lorraine was written in 1928. A year earlier in 1927 another enduring favorite that became an important part of the musical repertoire of jazz musicians was composed by Walter Donaldson with lyrics by George A. Whiting – My Blue Heaven.

Some fourteen years after the Metronome All Stars recording, on Tuesday August 23 1960 in Studio A of the Capitol Records Tower in Hollywood, Sinatra recorded a sizzling rendition of My Blue Heaven. Featured on the album “Sinatra's Swingin' Session!!!,“ and backed by a terrific Nelson Riddle arrangement, the now mature Sinatra’s approach to tempo and improvisational jazz phrasing is on full display.

Sinatra’s jazz origins are firmly rooted in swing era big band jazz and in the years 1953 to 1964 Sinatra continuously reimagined and refashioned big band jazz for a contemporary audience. His modern, hip, and very fashionable big band jazz revamp changed the trajectory of modern recorded popular music.

Equally important, while Sinatra may not have been purely a jazz artist, he was one of a number of virtuoso musical greats who brought jazz ideas into thoroughly composed and arranged music.

I can think of no better example than Sinatra and Nelson Riddle displaying a lively musical imagination by re-conceptualizing My Blue Heaven in an exciting new way.

The recording kicks off with one of Riddle’s infectious lead-ins . . . improvising off the main melodic idea, he spins an irrepressible ensemble riff led in the reeds by Buddy Collette then – dig this – a crackling rim shot from drummer Alvin Stoller announces stop time. Complete silence. Stop time – the band falls out for one full measure – the anticipation broken when an exuberant Sinatra shouts, “Whippoorwills call.” Wow.

Sinatra at his most swinging. His delivery has an edge to it. His phrasing feels and sounds absolutely in the moment . . . finger snapping excitement with a rhythmic dimension, each phrase contributing to the stanza’s larger rhythmic organization. Hear how he hesitates for just a beat at “my” before closing the loop with a syncopated “blue heaven.”

An absolutely scorching hard bop tenor saxophone run by Plas Johnson at the release. The band shadowing Johnson’s solo with a swinging counterpoint melodic line. My word.

Sailing into his second encounter with the bridge, Sinatra’s sweeping “You're gonna see a smilin' face, fireplace, cozy room“ explodes with energy. Riddle’s sharp ensemble fills adding weight and color and excitement as Sinatra’s vocal builds and builds toward a crescendo. Sinatra’s towering “We're happy in my Blue Heaven!” bending and carrying the word “blue” followed by a percussive cannonade of brass riffs for a perfectly extended finish.

That swinging, signature Sinatra sound drawing out notes and varying tempo . . . Nelson Riddle’s finger snapping big band swing arrangement and a powerhouse backing band featuring some of the most formidable jazz musicians ever to play a note. And wow, that raucous Plas Johnson solo.

Sinatra and jazz. Just wonderful stuff.