I've been reading back over some of the kickings I've dished out to Mr Laine so far this decade and I have to confess that they've left me feeling a trifle vexed. You see I am in fact a big fan of the man and I know he deserves better, but the problem seems to be that the things I like him for - the steely glint of drama from a voice that sweats bullets - is woefully inappropriate for the songs that the general public seem to have taken to. Because while Frankie does brooding menace and cowboy drama where love is never allowed to get in the way of a man's work incredibly well (think 'Cool Water', High Noon', 'Rawhide' etc), big ballads and showtunes sit uneasy on those broad shoulders.
'A Woman In Love' is as good an example as any of the mis-match; Laine goes for gold on this 'Guys And Dolls' number ("Those EYYYEEESSS are the EYYYEEESSS of a WO-MANNNNNNN in LOOOVVVEEEEE"), but he's in competition with a bold and brassy backing that tries it's damndest to outpunch him at his own game. It tries but ultimately 'A Woman In Love' ends up as an awkward and uncomfortable clinch in the middle of the ring, largely because Laine emotes it through gritted teeth with all the sincerity of a disinterested checkout girl bidding you a nice day. For all his lungbusting, you can't help but think that he'd rather be singing something else. Which is precisely what I'd rather be listening to. Sorry Frankie.
Saturday 22 May 2010
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