Columnist Jerry Fink: DiNapoli’s voice arrives in the Nick of time

Friday, April 19, 2002 | 8:51 a.m.

Jerry Fink's lounge column appears on Fridays. Reach him at jerry@lasvegassun.com at (702) 259-4058.

Someday, hopefully not for years to come, Tony Bennett will retire, having left his heart in San Francisco.

When he does, he might consider leaving his songs to Nick DiNapoli, a singer who sounds so much like Bennett it's uncanny.

DiNapoli even paints, a passionate pastime for Bennett that has become a profitable sideline for the legendary singer.

"I'm not trying to emulate his singing style," DiNapoli, a 39-year-old retired fireman from Barstow, Calif., said. "It comes naturally. I do all the standards -- (George) Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Cole Porter -- and I listen to singers like Bing Crosby and Mel Torme.

"But my voice just sounds like Tony Bennett, the tonality. It's a blessing and a curse. I'm not trying to be Tony Bennett, I've even turned down some Tony Bennett things because that's what they expected."

DiNapoli is a man who likes to do things his own way.

"I know I sound like him, and he's a big influence, no doubt," DiNapoli said. "But if a person knows Tony Bennett, really knows his music, and then they hear me, they will hear the difference. But a lot of people don't hear it, they just have an off-the-top-of-the-head awareness. The real Bennett fans would say there is a resemblance, but that I'm not doing him -- it's just the tonality."

DiNapoli has been anchoring open-mike nights at Capozzoli's Thursdays through Sundays since the end of December. For years the Italian restaurant and lounge has been a favorite after-hours hangout for such stars as Tom Jones.

"It's a very nice place to work," DiNapoli said. "But I don't want my career to end here. This is my college. I'm going to school. I'm in training right now."

DiNapoli is getting a late start as a professional singer, a dream of his since growing up in the South Brooklyn neighborhood of Red Hook, an impoverished community where the term "mean streets" could have originated.

DiNapoli always knew he had the singing voice and that a career in music could lift him out of the slums. But he never had the chance when he was trying to help the family survive with an assortment of odd jobs that included delivering papers, shining shoes, shoveling snow, busing tables and washing dishes in Italian restaurants.

"I always liked music," he said. "One Christmas when I was just a kid I needed some sneakers and I went into this variety store to buy a pair with some pocket money I had earned. After I bought the sneakers I saw this harmonica -- I couldn't afford a guitar, but I had enough money for the harmonica, and I bought it, thinking music would be one way to achieve a successful lifestyle."

He learned to play the harmonica, which he still plays today, but the reality of life got in the way of his musical career. He had to scratch out a living.

For awhile DiNapoli thought he might become a New York City firefighter, even going through a training program. But instead, he fled the grit and the grime of his roots and moved to Barstow when he was 19.

DiNapoli ended up with the Barstow fire department. He learned to cook Italian meals from his grandmother and mother, and for years prepared meals for his crew at the fire station.

While raising his family and pursuing his career as a firefighter, DiNapoli never lost his harmonica or his dream of being a professional singer.

"I played in some bands around San Bernardino, but it was just for fun," he said. "I went from rock 'n' roll to country music. I was with a group called Dos Country Guys, sort of like Brooks and Dunn. In the late '80s, early '90s I did some stuff at the Aladdin, in a lounge. It was just a couple of weekends, nothing major."

Then about five years ago, while still with the fire department, he opened DiNapoli's Firehouse Italian Eatery in Barstow, using recipes he perfected while cooking for his fellow firefighters.

DiNapoli built the restaurant with his own hands and decorated it with murals he painted.

The business was so successful he opened a second restaurant nearby in Apple Valley.

DiNapoli he retired from the fire department (he is still with its reserve unit). His pizza was so good Bakers Pride Pizza Ovens hired him to be its West Coast representative.

Every year there's a pizza convention in Las Vegas, and DiNapoli is one of the chefs. He was cooking at one of the events four years ago when he dropped by Piero's Italian Cuisine on Convention Center Drive and struck up a friendship with pianist David Morris, who plays in the restaurant's lounge.

Last summer Morris invited DiNapoli to perform with him, and from there the singer landed the gig at Capazzoli's. He still lives in Barstow, a two-hour drive from Las Vegas, but is spending more and more time in Las Vegas.

Recently representatives of a major recording label heard DiNapoli sing and have been talking to him about a possible future with them.

"There are three things you need to be successful in life," DiNapoli said. "You have to work hard, which I have done all my life, you've got to have some luck and you've got to be given a chance."

And sounding like Tony Bennett doesn't hurt.

Lounging around

Ira David Sternberg's weekly radio program, "Las Vegas Notebook" (noon to 1 p.m. Tuesdays on KDWN 720-AM), contiunes to broadcast live from the Bootlegger Bistro on Las Vegas Boulevard South. This week comedian Chris Bliss was Sternberg's guest; next week listen for Rich Little and his crowd of voices.

A musical comedy benefit for the Suzy Firth Memorial Scholarship fund will be held 2 p.m.-6 p.m. April 27 in the Doc Rando Recital Hall at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas' Beam Music Center. There will be a silent auction in addition to performances by several local and national entertainers. Suzy Firth died in August. She was a founder of the comedy band The Dummkopfs. Advance tickets are $10. For information call 895-2787, 451-5254 or 682-0589.

Say it isn't so -- a porn star working the crowd at the hotel formerly owned by Debbie Reynolds, of squeaky-clean "Tammy" fame? Teri Weigel and a couple of other magazine models were among guests at the debut last Saturday of the Greek Isles' The Red Room -- an after-hours club trying to lure in the rave crowd with loud music and off-beat attractions.