Nancy Sinatra: Legend

Friday is about music — so there’s always links and playlists. And today a celebration of the great Nancy Sinatra. I love her! You should too…

In music, if your mum or dad is a huge star, it might be wise to do your own thing entirely; to not follow. There’s the doomed path of genetic disposition (Jeff Buckley) and the impossibility of really getting anywhere near the source (Jakob Dylan, Julian Lennon) whilst always being absolutely and instantly expected to. But there are some shining examples out there. For every Harper Simon (Paul’s son) or James McCartney (the other Paul’s son) there’s an Emily Estefan.

Emily is the daughter of Latin American music royalty; everyone knows her mum, the great Gloria. Her father, Emilio was Gloria’s romantic and musical partner. He was a key member of the Miami Sound Machine, and the producer (and songwriter) that shaped that path. He went on to have production and songwriting credits across the 90s/00s for the biggest of the crossover Latin pop artists: Shakira, Ricky Martin, Marc Anthony…

I watch clips of Emily Estefan, singer, multi-instrumentalist, and I wait for the big splash album. The one that makes people take notice. But it’s not that sort of world anymore. Certainly there’s no curse attached to her at all. She’s out there doing it. Killing it on whatever level. The same is true of Fabiano Palladino, daughter of the legendary session bassist Pino (think: D’Angelo’s Voodoo, John Entwistle’s replacement in The Who, the fretless hook on Paul Young’s Wherever I Lay My Hat That’s My Home).

I’ve mentioned Fabiana’s newly released debut, self-titled album here previously. It’s one of the best Madonna albums you’ll ever hear. And I mean that only as a giant compliment.

So, maybe the problem is only with “Prodigal Sons” not genius daughters.

I was thinking about this, as I listened to a new/ish compilation of some of Nancy Sinatra’s shining moments.

Keep Walkin’ is the follow-up to the also brilliant Start Walkin’

Both collections cover the decade (or so) of Nancy’s real (full) career. All the hits, and plenty of songs that I’m sure should have been hits too.

I first heard her very much in the role of being Frank’s daughter. Something that must have been impossible to shake off, just as much as it might have been a tiny bit handy there for a bit also.

It was the 1967 duet with her dad, the well-known, oft-covered, sometimes parodied Something Stupid that first alerted me to Nancy Sinatra. So, yeah, I thought of her as something of a novelty act. But also, I really loved the performance. I was just a kid. And my mum, a huge Sinatra fan, passed on that love of Frank (and Tony Bennett, and vocal jazz including Anita O’Day, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald). I’m always grateful to my mum for playing me great jazz at a young age — and not just the vocalists. We hit up the Miles and Coltrane records, and plenty of great blues, as well as detours like the extraordinarily talented Belgian composer, harmonica player, guitarist and — yes! — whistler “Toots” Thielemans, the 80s MOR records by George Benson and Al Jarreau, and the harder bop of Charlie Parker, and cool croon of Chet Baker.

But for a while there Frank was it. For me. And maybe for everyone. He’s certainly a name to rival McCartney, Lennon, and Dylan in terms of anyone from the family being foolish enough to want to follow suit.

But Nancy didn’t just do Something Stupid, she went Full Idiot, releasing hit singles and making albums, appearing in movies, and of course she was part of a successful side-gig duo, which reinvented her along the way: The psychedelic-country chanteuse and muse for the strange genius of Lee Hazlewood.

I adore that album Nancy & Lee — and why wouldn’t you? The cover alone has you intrigued. Her looking like she is the secret on the lips of the world. Him, a stand in for Sonny Bono, and every bit as clever/lucky as that guy was, for them both to have found the right girl…

But it’s the music that matters. And “Some velvet morning/when I’m straight…” is one of the all-timers of an opening line, and that song as strange and mercurial on its 500th listen as its first; rivalled in that department only by Bobbie Gentry’s Ode To Billie Joe, which is of the same time and sits in a similar shape.

There are so many great Nancy Sinatra sides though. With Lee. And on her own.

This sampler gets you started, but also barely touches the sides. The two compilations I shared up top are a great and fuller start. You need the Nancy & Lee album too of course.

And here’s a little bit extra to help you along the way towards further discoveries there:

But there’s one more great — and necessary — Nancy Sinatra album. The one just called Nancy Sinatra. The “comeback” album from 20 years ago, that, weirdly (or not so weirdly) started with Morrissey. It’s no great surprise to know he is a fan. But they were neighbours. She sang on one of his songs. Then from there she did her own version — and a full record. The rest of the album features songs by Joey Burns (Calexico) and Jarvis Cocker (Pulp) and Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth) and Jon Spencer (Blues Explosion) and Bono & The Edge (dur, U2). It’s a great album — sophisticated pop. You could file it next to your late 20th Century Marianne Faithfull albums, but this one has had the full rasp removed.

Here’s a link to the full album on YouTube.

So, yeah, what am I trying to say with all this? Just a celebration of Nancy Sinatra. Still alive, if not kicking out the jams…

But hey, she’s done enough. Enough to make Frank proud. Enough to stand up and alone and away from her dad too. Some dream pop, some surreal country gems, some banging big singles from the height of the swinging sixties, and enough interesting stuff from the edges of pop’s mainframe.

I just wanted to give her a shout. And call out the fact that not all talented sons and daughters (certainly not the daughters anyway) of talented mums and dads are doomed. It might be a huge platform — in the case of Nancy she was on a national TV show straight away because it had her dad’s name in the title. But maybe the best thing she ever did straight after that was not really singing ‘jazz’; maybe the best thing she was able to do was just be herself.

I don’t know a whole lot about her biography, you can probably tell from the surface-skim I’ve offered at best up above, but what concerns me is the music. Some really great tunes. And yeah, sure, Hazlewood, and others, were involved in the studio magic, production, arrangements. But the name on the tin says Nancy. And I’ve been listening to her music for 35 years now. Still finding fresh gems from within those old jams.

Happy Friday. Thanks for reading. And for listening. Your prize for getting to the end is a playlist which doesn’t have any Nancy Sinatra. It’s on more of a dedicated indie-pop/alt tip than is usually the case. But as always I am hopeful there’s a bit of something for almost everyone.