Connie Francis
0
Posted
February 25, 2009 in
Connie Francis is one of the more fascinating figures in mid-20th century American pop music; she initially straddled a high tension line between high gloss bubblegum and big beat rock & roll, managing to appeal to both camps with a vocal style equally at home crying audacious, petulant romps like “Stupid Cupid” and re-invigorating dusty Tin Pan Alley standards like “Who’s Sorry Now.” It’s also worth noting that one of her earliest and biggest boosters was Mr. Dick Clark, who featured her, alongside wild man Jerry Lee Lewis and exotic, turban topped, black R&B rocker Chuck “The Stroll” Willis, on the very first nationally broadcast edition of American Bandstand in early 1958. That placed Francis in an unusual position—unlike Wanda Jackson or Brenda Lee, there was nothing country about this gal and as one of the only women unafraid to attempt to cash in on rock & roll’s (at the time still very controversial) blazing prominence, Francis enjoyed a unique status, sort of a female Bobby Darin (her manager, not coincidentally, also got Darrin his first big break). But with Connie Francis, it’s ultimately all about the ballads, and her brand of intensely scorching torch, redolent with tearful conviction and drastically expressive phrasing, ranks her as a canny, persuasive stylist of the first order. With her backdrop of personal turmoil and agony—that horrifying 1974 rape, decades of addiction and an ongoing struggle with manic-depressive disorder—and a first-rate set list of her many hits, Francis is certain to burrow deep into areas of your brain that very few other singers could reach. (Jonny Whiteside)
Connie Francis at Spotlight 29 Casino, 46200 Harrison St., Coachella; (866) 377-6829; Sat., Feb. 28, 8PM; Tickets $35
0
Posted
February 25, 2009 in
Connie Francis is one of the more fascinating figures in mid-20th century American pop music; she initially straddled a high tension line between high gloss bubblegum and big beat rock & roll, managing to appeal to both camps with a vocal style equally at home crying audacious, petulant romps like “Stupid Cupid” and re-invigorating dusty Tin Pan Alley standards like “Who’s Sorry Now.” It’s also worth noting that one of her earliest and biggest boosters was Mr. Dick Clark, who featured her, alongside wild man Jerry Lee Lewis and exotic, turban topped, black R&B rocker Chuck “The Stroll” Willis, on the very first nationally broadcast edition of American Bandstand in early 1958. That placed Francis in an unusual position—unlike Wanda Jackson or Brenda Lee, there was nothing country about this gal and as one of the only women unafraid to attempt to cash in on rock & roll’s (at the time still very controversial) blazing prominence, Francis enjoyed a unique status, sort of a female Bobby Darin (her manager, not coincidentally, also got Darrin his first big break). But with Connie Francis, it’s ultimately all about the ballads, and her brand of intensely scorching torch, redolent with tearful conviction and drastically expressive phrasing, ranks her as a canny, persuasive stylist of the first order. With her backdrop of personal turmoil and agony—that horrifying 1974 rape, decades of addiction and an ongoing struggle with manic-depressive disorder—and a first-rate set list of her many hits, Francis is certain to burrow deep into areas of your brain that very few other singers could reach. (Jonny Whiteside)
Connie Francis at Spotlight 29 Casino, 46200 Harrison St., Coachella; (866) 377-6829; Sat., Feb. 28, 8PM; Tickets $35
