Everybody Loves Tony

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Tony Bennett continues to wow fans young and old

By David J. Spatz

Add Comment | Comments: 0 | Posted Aug. 4, 2005

The question clearly caught Tony Bennett by surprise.

We were in his dressing room at Resorts Casino Hotel, back when the First Game In Town was still owned by show-biz mogul Merv Griffin. Our conversation was being taped for the syndicated television series Backstage Pass, which I hosted from 1992-97.

Midway through our spirited and insightful chat, Bennett offered his theory on why his music had struck a responsive chord with the MTV crowd, kids who had been weaned on heavy metal and alternative rock.

After explaining how his jazz and pop songs had bridged two generation gaps - kids, their parents and grandparents - it occurred to me that he sounded less like a saloon singer and more like a hip family therapist.

"Could we be hearing from Tony Bennett, pop psychologist?" I asked, not immediately realizing the pun. The word play wasn't lost on the entertainer.

"Hey, I really like the way that sounds," the singer said. "Nobody ever called me that. Pop psychologist. Pop music. Yeah, that fits."

Of all the labels that have been hung on him during a career that's spanned nearly 60 years, pop psychologist is the one that seems to be the most accurate.

The elder statesman of popular music, who performs a single show Saturday night at Harrah's Atlantic City, has never been fond of artistic labels, since they tend to pigeonhole a performer.

By most accounts, though, Bennett, who turns 79 on Aug. 13, has been a jazz and pop singer for most of his career, although he'd prefer to be known simply as a singer, since that gives him the freedom to sing whatever he likes.

He began singing at age 10, but didn't turn professional until he was discharged from the Army after World War II. Since his first professional gig in 1948 (under the stage name Joe Bari), he's enjoyed three distinctly different phases of his career.

After he was discovered by Pearl Bailey in the late 1940s and got a big push from Bob Hope in the early '50s, Bennett's star began to rise with his recordings of pop songs.

In the late 1950s, his longtime pianist, Ralph Sharon, urged him to explore jazz because he felt it had the potential for career longevity, more so than pop.

So Bennett turned his attention to jazz and used his warm baritone to discover a treasure trove of artistic freedom in America's only true gift to the world of music.

"Jazz is all-American, like baseball," he said. "But I don't think it's ever really been given the respect it deserves. If it had, [jazz] wouldn't be treated as some kind of an after-thought. It would be mainstream."

By the early 1970s, though, Bennett - like so many artists of his era - was largely forgotten by record labels that were making a killing off modern rock and couldn't be bothered wasting time and money on marginally profitable jazz artists.

As his career hit the skids, so did his personal life. By the late 1970s, the multiple Grammy Award-winner was nearly broke, struggling with a drug problem, saw his marriage break up and was clearly yesterday's news.

In desperation, he turned to his son, Danny Benedetto, and asked him for some guidance. Tony, whose once brilliant career had taken him to the most revered concert venues on the planet, had been relegated to mostly casino dates in Las Vegas and Atlantic City.

At the time, Danny and his younger brother, Daegal, were playing in a rock 'n' roll band, and Danny was doubling as the band's manager and booker. Danny agreed to manage his dad's career, but not before extracting a promise from his father.

"Danny had an idea of what he wanted to do, but he said he wouldn't do it unless I listened to him and did exactly what he told me to do without questioning it," Bennett recalled. "And I wasn't in much of a position to say no."

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