Let’s be Frank?

Friday, Nov. 27, 1998 | 10:11 a.m.

For most, it's impossible to sing "Impossible." Some left their hearts -- and talent -- in San Francisco. For others, luck is never a lady tonight.

Aspiring crooners come and go, attempting to echo the music and spirit of lounge tunes made famous chiefly by Frank Sinatra. What the most successful and capable are finding is there's a fine line between cheap imitation and a soulful effort to sustain a legacy.

"When I think of Frank, the word 'taste,' comes to mind," said Vincent Falcone Jr., Sinatra's musical director from 1987 until the legendary entertainer's death in May. "This is a tasteful form of music, and Frank always wanted somebody to carry over the music in a tasteful way that would be a tribute to the music and his legacy."

Sounds simple enough. However, the new age of crooners struggle with embracing the musical heritage of Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Bobby Darin, Vic Damone, Bobby Vinton, et al., without coming off as a diluted copy of the original.

"In high school, the first time I realized I had a special voice was in a Catholic high school variety show," Steve Lippia, whose rich voice carries an uncanny quality many say is equal to Sinatra's, said. "They started saying I sounded like Frank. It was flattering, but I was a little scared, too."

The fear stems from an unyielding loyalty among Sinatra's fans, which was evident at a postmortem symposium examining his life and career earlier this month in Hempstead, N.Y. When discussion strayed from Sinatra's musical legacy and history of charitable deeds and into unflattering territory, some fans walked out.

Damone, one of the many show business heavyweights in attendance, set the mood by saying, "Frank Sinatra was a god to me."

Thus, he (Sinatra) is one tough act to follow.

Well-connected crooner

The 42-year-old Lippia, and Las Vegas entertainers Brian Evans and George Bugatti, are all dedicated to preserving the music of Sinatra and his contemporaries. All are featured performers at local hotel-casinos, and the competition has become lively for three polished performers who vary in approach.

Lippia, who performs at the Rio, possesses the most readily identifiable connection to Sinatra. Falcone, Lippia's musical director and pianist, has assembled a 22-piece orchestra packed with industry veterans.

The Rio has opened the RioBamba Cabaret (formerly the Mambo Lounge), naming it for the room where Sinatra made his New York debut.

Even Lippia's personal manager, Tino Barzie, enjoyed a lengthy affiliation with Sinatra (he worked for both Frank and Frank Jr. for 17 years), as did Lippia's publicist, Lee Solters. Falcone doesn't mind noting that Lippia's voice is eerily similar to Sinatra's, a contention that could be deemed blasphemous in some circles.

"I couldn't believe it when I first heard it," Falcone said. "I was with Tino and Lee when we heard a recording of Steve, and it had us totally fooled because we thought it was Frank. We flew down to Florida for one of his concerts (Lippia hails from West Palm Beach), and we couldn't believe what we were hearing."

For Lippia, the comparisons to Sinatra's vocal patterns and his many connections to Sinatra's entourage can prompt uncommon pressure from fans and critics.

"I feel that when people comment about the similarities vocally," he said. "Then when people realize I'm working with people he knew professionally and personally, there is that added pressure to give a really impressive, authentic performance."

Falcone had discussed the high expectations prior to Lippia's opening at the RioBamba earlier this month. Lippia's contract runs through four months (though he says he's confident he'll have a lengthy run at the Rio), and he'll be regularly reminded of the similarities to Sinatra.

"We had a long discussion that was just about this," Falcone said. "From my standpoint, he's being compared to the best that ever was. When you have that kind of comparison, you've got a lot to live up to."

That reality was evident after a recent show at the Rio, when Lippia, who had just given an hour-long, note-perfect performance, was approached by a fan who sat in the front row.

"You were good," said the man, who hailed from Philadelphia and said he'd seen Sinatra perform many times. "Not bad."

Lippia laughed and said, "You seem surprised."

The RioBamba room was constructed specifically for Lippia's shows, which run nightly except for Wednesday at 7:30 and 9:30 (Solters says Rio owner Tony Marnell decided to book Lippia after listening to just 15 seconds of a demo recording).

Both Lippia and Falcone say theirs is not a "Legends In Concert"-style "tribute" act. (The long-running show at the Imperial Palace does not include a Sinatra tribute, but has a "Rat Pack" production it sends out for special events and corporate gatherings.)

"I've seen the impressionists with the cocktail, the cigarette and the 'do-be-do-be-do,' singing," Lippia said. "I don't want to do that. I don't want this to be a look back in time, or give people the impression that it's a dying form of music.

"I feel like the pendulum swung one way for a while, and now it's swinging back."

Falcone said Sinatra, who never met Lippia, would applaud Lippia's efforts.

"Steve has the voice, but it's not a true impersonation," Falcone said. "You can't impersonate Frank and no one has been able to. This is a tribute to his music and legacy, and that's what Frank always wanted."

His own man

While Lippia has carefully aligned himself with the Sinatra persona, 27-year-old Evans is fighting to maintain individuality.

The problem is, he not only sounds a little like Sinatra, the lithe, 5-foot-7, Evans looks a little like a young Sinatra. Even magazine ads touting Evans' show at the Desert Inn's Starlight Lounge depict a slim, young crooner clutching a '50s-style metal microphone with his left hand and snapping with his right.

The initial response is, this kid's trying to be the next Frank.

Yet Evans says, "I've never tried to pawn myself off that way. Who could ever be like Frank Sinatra?"

For Evans, deflecting direct (and frequently critical) comparisons has been a struggle.

"When I was growing up, I owned two or three Frank Sinatra albums," Evans said. "I listed to Bobby Darin, Dean Martin, Bobby Vinton more than Frank growing up. Songs like 'Blue Velvet' and 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco' were my favorites. I'm more into the music as a whole, not just Frank."

But even as he makes that contention, Evans says meeting Sinatra at a benefit for the Barbara Sinatra Children's Foundation five years ago was one of the most powerful moments of his life.

"I spent $300 to attend this benefit, and I was late on my rent because of it," Evans said "I was sitting right behind Frank and the whole time I was looking at the back of his head. Afterward, I started walking toward him and a bunch of people started closing in, like I was going after him or something, but I got through."

The young crooner tapped Sinatra on the shoulder, saying, "I think you're the greatest singer ever and I want to shake your hand."

Sinatra, used to such fawning fan response, said, "Here's my hand. Shake it and get the hell out of here."

Then Sinatra winked and grinned.

"I was just awestruck," Evans said. "He was more than a singer. He was a real celebrity, and he's way too big a figure to slip into some 'Legends' show. I definitely am not trying to fill his shoes, for God's sake.

"When you see me hanging around with President Clinton, then, yeah, maybe I'd be trying to be like him. But I'm not."

Evans said the music will survive, and will be embraced by a younger generation of singers and fans.

"I'm trying to keep songs around for a younger generation," he said. "It would be a shame to see a song like 'Blue Velvet' fade away because there's a new KISS CD on the rack."

Evans, born in Boston, embarked on a brief acting career and appeared on the ABC sitcom "Full House" and FOX's "Beverly Hills, 90210," and performed in Vancouver, British Columbia before signing on with the Desert Inn. He ends his current run at the 205-seat Starlight Lounge on Sunday.

Evans says he holds an uncomplicated theory as to why lounge music continues to endure.

"People want to hear the words to songs again," he said. "That's where it starts."

More Tony than Frank

At the Bellagio, Brooklyn native Bugatti has brought his act to the hotel-casino's 250-seat Fontana Lounge.

"This is a lot like classical music," said 35-year-old Bugatti, who performed at Beverly Hills' (Calif.) Peninsula Hotel for seven years before appearing at the Bellagio since the hotel opened in October.

"The originators have almost all passed away, and when they died, an era ended," he said. "It's up to other people to carry the torch and keep it alive for future generations."

Having studied music and theatre at the High School of Performing Arts and Julliard School of Music in New York, Bugatti for years struggled to find a genre suited to his strong, resonant voice.

He recorded jingles, sang all sorts of music in his live act, and even pursued a career in acting.

But five years ago, after Bugatti impulsively moved from New York to Los Angeles, he honored a request for "I Left My Heart In San Francisco," which he performed flawlessly.

Bugatti had never sung the tune in front of a crowd. After the performance, he knew he'd found his voice.

"I started crying, it was that powerful," he said. "I was lost, just floundering, and then that happened. It was really emotional."

Such episodes reveal the passion shared by the new order of crooners. It's difficult to imagine an aspiring rock guitarist being reduced to tears after figuring out how to play Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze."

"There's more to just performing songs with this music," Bugatti said. "It comes from the soul."

Bugatti has since been invited onstage by Bennett and considers him to be his mentor. But Bugatti is apt to sing songs by nearly any artist during his shows at the Bellagio, which will soon move to the more intimate Allegro Room.

"I'll read the crowd and see what mood they're in," Bugatti, who plays piano and is backed by a drummer, stand-up base player and saxophonist, said. "It's a real 'feel'-type of show."

True. It's not uncommon for Bugatti to call out for requests from the crowd and be hit with, "La Bamba," one of the more than 2,000 songs in his arsenal.

"For me, I'll dip into any era for what I think are standards," he said. "There are classic songs from the '50s, '60s, '70s and '80s. I'll go back and pick out a Barry Manilow song, or even something from Earth, Wind and Fire, and give it my own interpretation."

Bugatti laughs at a request he received a year ago while performing in Beverly Hills.

"Someone came up to me and asked me to play that song Harry Connick Jr. song, 'It Had To Be You,"' Bugatti said with a laugh. "Well, he does a nice version of it."

Always seeking new and unique songs to add to his repertoire, Bugatti spontaneously started singing a song from the Doors in an interview after a recent show.

"What's that song? It has a little swing to it," Bugatti, searching his memory and snapping his fingers, said. "Oh yeah. 'People are strange, ba-da-ba-da-ba, faces look ugly, when you're alone.' ... It could work. We could make that swing."

It might be worth a shot. But what would Frank think?

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