Vance Adair - Author

[Michele Monro]

Dear Michele

I have pasted a review that I was commissioned to write on your excellent book. It will appear in a music journal as well as the Sinatra Society Newsletter. A copy of the review has also been sent to the Sinatraphiles mailing group and is now on Amazon.

You must be very proud of the book, as i am sure Mickie was too. It is a magnificent achievement.

Best wishes,

Vance

‘The Singer’s Singer: The Life and Music of Matt Monro’
by Michele Monro. Titan Books, 2010. Xiv + 632 pages


To readers still to be initiated into the innumerable wonders of experiencing the voice of Matt Monro, the title of Michele Monro’s biography of her father might appear to resonate with hyperbole. This compendious volume (published, appropriately, by Titan books) is peppered with encomia from the alumni of a tradition of popular singing that is now lost to us. Sinatra, Bennett, Crosby, Como and a host of other stellar exponents of the great American songbook lavish praise upon the diminutive singer from Shoreditch who died 25 years ago. As someone who works regularly with musicians of a certain vintage, a group notoriously reticent in affirming the abilities of singers, it has been my experience that any reference to Matt Monro still provokes effusive testimonies to his genius. It is rare indeed to find such undisputed and widespread veneration of a singer and this fact makes it all the more remarkable that it has taken a quarter of a century since the untimely death of Monro for a book to appear.
In many ways the book addresses itself variously to this paradox. The notable chart successes notwithstanding, and there were many, Monro’s career was bracketed by two unfortunate ironies. Firstly, he came to prominence at a time when the kind of singing style patented by Crosby and Sinatra was about to be swept away on a tide of gyrating hips and brillcreemed quiffs. Fast forward 25 years and we find Monro’s career, largely moribund in the late 70s and early 80s, poised for a renaissance just before his death. In 1984 he was recording again, received a gold disc for a ballad compilation album and had enjoyed renewed success in Las Vegas. He was very much a hot property. The grim irony is further compounded, of course, by the fact that the resurgence of interest in Monro’s kind of music was only a few years away, championed by a then twenty year old singer called Harry Connick Jr. If Matt Monro never gained the kind of international profile that was enjoyed by predecessors such as Sinatra, Como and Bennett, it is partly as a result of this historical paradox: he arrived on the scene a little too late and departed much too soon.
His first chart success with ‘Portrait of My Love’ in 1960 coincided with a seismic shift in popular musical tastes. Elvis Presley was riding high and the advent of rock n roll was in the process of transforming the music industry. Just when he was about to abandon his ambitions as a vocalist Monro was recruited to provide the vocals on a Peter Sellers album, a Sinatra inspired pastiche entitled ‘Songs for Swingin’ Sellers.’ Credited only as the mysterious Fred Flange, such was the interest generated about the true identity of the singer that it eventually led to his being awarded a recording contract of his own.
This unorthodox turn of events also resulted in perhaps the most fruitful collaboration of Monro’s career: his partnership with the producer George Martin. The man who was soon to become mentor to the Beatles produced some magnificent recordings with Monro, recordings that even today are characterized by great sound and a judicious choice of arrangements that shimmer around a voice of exquisite pitch and control. The book offers a series of detailed and rewarding insights into how these recordings were put together at a time when the recording industry was in the grip of convulsive transformation. Most notable among these changes was the steady demise of the influence of music publishers in providing a stream of new material that was the lifeblood of artists like Monro.
The Sellers project that brought this extraordinary voice to public attention invites consideration of a further irony – the routine comparisons made between Monro and Sinatra that would bedevil the singer throughout his career. Although such a comparison has a superficial credibility, the difference between the two singers is markedly audible to even the slightly discerning ear. Monro has much more in common with Perry Como insofar as a singing ‘style’ is concerned. Like Como, Monro had one of the most beautifully natural instruments in the singing business. His approach to a song was direct, unadorned and guided by a sense of the melodic arc to a tune; by contrast, Sinatra’s approach was distinguished by (among other admirable attributes) an ability to use words to provide emotional drama to a song that, in less guarded moments, sometimes flirted uncomfortably close to the mannered. Moreover, Monro’s stock in trade was a very careful use of dynamics that unleashed a sinuous legato style that often sounded as though it was fuelled by the collective lung capacity of half a dozen singers. Nevertheless, the lazy marketing of the singer as ‘the British Sinatra’ persisted and it was not always helpful to his career at a time when the type of singing inspired by Sinatra was coming under increased commercial pressure. As the author wryly points out, Monro deliberately gave the Sinatra anthems a wide berth in his recorded output, whereas it was in fact Sinatra that covered Monro hits such as ‘Born Free,’ ‘My Kind of Girl’ and ‘Softly As I leave You.’
After a succession of hits with Martin and the supremely gifted arranger, Johnny Spence, Monro had occasion to find his career stray even more unexpectedly onto the path of another celebrated American vocalist, Nat Cole. Cole’s death in the mid 60s meant that Capitol Records were scouting for a replacement that would have a similar commercial appeal. As a result, Monro was offered a one million pound deal with the label that looked set to launch him into potentially stratospheric levels of stardom in the U.S.
This was a watershed moment for Monro, and the book’s account of his abortive stay in the U.S. sheds new light on this period of the singer’s career. Conventional wisdom has always maintained that Matt abandoned such a great opportunity out of homesickness. While this is partly true, the author reveals that the detailed planning and collaboration with producers and arrangers that was the hallmark of Monro’s recording ventures in the UK was not replicated in his US projects. Arrangements were often unsuitable, recordings were rushed and the material the singer was asked to perform was often of inferior quality. The 1 million pound investment by Capitol belied the scant efforts made by the label to nurture, cultivate and promote the singer. Although Monro later admitted to regretting his premature return from the States, his treatment at the hands of Capitol was yet another worrying harbinger of the fate that awaited exponents of Matt’s type of music.
And what of the man behind the music? The overriding impression of Monro is of a man who was devoted both to his family and his craft. One of the many virtues of this exhaustively researched book is that its detailed survey of Monro’s diary gives a rare insight into the sheer grind of being a vocalist. The demands made upon the singer by his schedule (coupled with prolonged absences from his wife and family) offers a salient reminder to our celebrity obsessed culture of the graft that was required to maintain a career, even by such an extraordinarily gifted singer.
And Monro worked harder than most. Nevertheless, by the late 70s and early 80s, while peers such as Shirley Bassey were selling out Carnegie Hall, Monro was hoofing it around a diminishing circuit of working men’s clubs. Inevitably - something had to give. Around this time Monro confronted his increasingly destructive addiction to alcohol. A second spell in rehab in the late 70s enabled the singer finally to conquer his alcoholism. This dark episode in the singer’s life is chronicled with admirable candour by Michele Monro and demonstrates how the book commendably avoids the temptation toward hagiography evident in some other biographies of famous singing dads by their daughters.
Monro’s unstinting loyalty to friends, fans and fellow artists is well documented throughout the book. However, by the late 70s (when he had reached the nadir of his professional career) it could no longer be ignored how Monro’s celebrated equanimity had worked against his own interests. Forged at a time when both men were starting out in the business, Matt’s deep sense of loyalty to his manager, the celebrated and prolific lyricist Don Black, is singled out as the singer’s most egregious error in judgment. Black’s career was fuelled by Matt’s renditions of his songs, the most notable early coup being the Oscar that Black won for ‘Born Free.’ In fact, Monro continued to record many of Black’s songs, even those that were of dubious merit.
Inevitably, the careers of both men began to develop an inverse symmetry to each other. Black moved to the U.S. and his career blossomed, while Matt began to lose the kind of dates that were suited to his talent. Despite many representations made to him by competing agents throughout his career, Monro remained loyal to Black. Although perhaps unconscionably late into their professional relationship, Monro did finally part company with his erstwhile manager and friend and Matt gradually returned to performing at the kind of prestige engagements more deserving of his talents.
This is admittedly a contentious area of the book; yet based on the evidence provided it is difficult to resist the conclusion that the management of Monro by Don Black was both negligent and deeply detrimental to the singer’s career. Encroaching illness meant that Matt would never fully capitalize on this welcome and long overdue revival in his fortunes following his parting from Black. The recently released concert performances from 1984 bear witness to a voice that had matured into a richness of tone and texture that was, in many respects, even better than before. Sadly, only a few months after these performances, that beautiful voice was silenced permanently on February 7th, 1985. Monro was 54 years old.
This is a book whose importance goes beyond the fact that it is the first extended account of the life of a great artist. It is meticulously researched, intelligently written and provides numerous fascinating insights into the cultural context of Monro’s unlikely rise to fame, particularly at a time when the record buying public were falling out of love with tuxedoed balladeers. The unyielding devotion of the singer’s wife, Mickie, is evident throughout the book and transforms the narrative into a love story. Ultimately, though, this biography is a celebration of a kind, devoted and imperfect man who holds the enviable distinction of being the greatest popular singer ever to have come from these shores.

Vance Adair

[ROBERT M.]

Really enjoyed reading the review