Eydie Gorme (1928-2013)

Source: JazzWax by Marc Myers
August 14, 2013
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The late Eydie Gorme was the first female pop vocalist to understand television's subliminal seductive powers. Just as Judy Garland had played coy with the movie camera to win a nation's heart, Gorme understood that her path to success ran through the after-dinner sofa set. She was impossibly talented—swinging a big clear, brassy voice that in pre-TV years would have gotten her only as far as Broadway. She also was beautiful, in a different sort of way. She wasn't a blond and her features weren't pert like many high-visibility singers of her day. But her ease and insupressable smile made TV viewers forget about where her parents came from—just as Nat King Cole's wide grin and suave body language worked the same magic with unsure viewers.

Unlike other female pop singers who wound up on television in the 1950s, Gorme was a relative newcomer. She wasn't an established singing star who added TV to her repertoire. She was an unknown belter with everything on the line, so when she sang on Steve Allen's shows, she gave it her all. Her dark eyes turned to crescents, her cheekbones lifted and her body begged viewers to hear her out and give her a shot. Which they did.

To many urban apartment dwellers in the mid-1950s, Gorme was the Americanized daughter of the immigrant family down the hall, the grocer's kid who helped out at the store and everyone's upbeat older sister or young mom. There was youth in her face, love in her eyes and respect for her elders in the songs she sang. Guys fell in love with her innocence and confidence.

But by the late '50s, Gorme was no longer available. In 1957, she married Steve Lawrence, whose voice and natural relaxed style were a perfect match. But overnight the couple seemed to age rapidly in an era when youth increasingly was driving the culture. Gorme was an old soul—and seemingly happy to be so. Many of the songs she recorded for ABC-Paramount in the late 1950s were parent-pleasers, not the music of her peers.

There was nothing really hip about Gorme. She could swing a song, but she didn't have Peggy Lee's dry-ice sultriness, Sarah Vaughan's sizzle, Lena Horne's red-carpet looks or Jackie Cain's street smarts. Gorme was an entity all her own and in many ways, innocent and suburban.

In retrospect, many of Gorme's albums for ABC-Paramount were uneven—the result of know-it-all producers. The albums featured a few winners but most were larded with odd numbers that didn't seem to fit her chrome-and-fins brand. In some cases entire albums were misfires. Eydie in Dixieland and Eydie Gorme Vamps the Roaring 20s come to mind.

Gorme's voice also didn't seem to modulate much during her ABC years or come from a deeply personal place. Her vocals were always full throttle—like someone who was doing everything to win a job and continued to do so even after being hired.

When Gorme moved to Columbia in 1963, much better work resulted. Her song choices were younger and fresher—though in some cases her voice seemed unable to comprehend the subtlety needed for the moody contemporary sound. The Look of Love (1968) is an example of this misreading.

For me, her best albums were Don't Go to Strangers (1966) and Softly, as I Leave You (1967), which fit her like soft leather gloves. The songs, the band and her delivery were breathakingly perfect. The albums were arranged by Don Costa and conducted by Joe Guercio, who would go on to become Elvis Presley's orchestrator and conductor in the 1970s. Gorme aces everything she takes on, and the arrangements frame her wonderfully.

Monday's obit in The New York Times hinted that rock and roll changed the game for Gorme in the late '60s, but the arrival of the Beatles and the Stones really had nothing to do with it. Gorme's main vinyl nemesis was Barbra Streisand, who also was signed to Columbia at the time and took pop to more personal places. Streisand was also more hands-on when it came to choosing material and making sure the label's suits didn't get lazy or distracted.

Gorme's other cultural nemesis in the mid-'60s was Cher, who also had an ethnic look but was a child of the era and won over teens with her laid back vocal style. Unfortunately, Gorme found hersself penned in, generationally, and stuck with an aging record-buying audience.

And yet Gorme remains perhaps the greatest of all pop singers, an artist who made you love her and root for her. She was an LP recording artist with a polished horn-like delivery, not a stage singer who screamed for the rafters. Gorme came of age when many urban parents still spoke with an accent and you had to push your way to the front to stand out. Though many of her recordings today sound a bit similar in their persistent brassiness, Gorme still lifts spirits and reminds us that talent once required grace and charm to succeed. The days of tantrums, tatoos and rehab as marketing strategies would come later. For Gorme, every song was an opportunity to make something of herself. In that regard, she succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.

JazzWax tracks: Don't Go to Strangers and Softly, as I Leave You are available on a single CD here.

JazzWax clip: Here's Gorme in all her show-stopping, big-buildup glory, singing What Did I Have—one of the greatest pop songs of its era from Don't Go to Strangers...