Hand him the Keys

Kirk Baird

Saturday, Sept. 3, 2005 | 3:06 a.m.

WEEKEND EDITION

September 3-5, 2005

Bob Rozario has enjoyed a successful career playing piano, performing with some of the top performers of the time.

Not that he recommends the musician's life to everyone.

It requires dedication, he says, the kind that starts with piano lessons at age 5 and never stops, even 67 years years later.

Born in Shanghai, China -- his father worked for an American firm that made ice cream and diary products -- Rozario spent time playing piano in the U.S. Army for special services and in jazz clubs around Los Angeles.

His career as a musician, though, took off in 1963 when he joined Louis Prima and his band at the Sahara. Prima was in his prime, a performer's performer who attracted all the big Las Vegas names -- Sinatra, Martin, Davis -- as fans almost nightly.

Rozario's work on the piano attracted attention from other performers as well, and three years later he joined Bobby Darin as the entertainer's bandleader.

After Darin's death in 1973, Rozario went to work as Tony Orlando's bandleader, conducting the Bob Rozario Orchestra for the "Tony Orlando and Dawn" variety show. After CBS canceled the show in late 1976, he took his conducting skills to ABC, where he worked on the "Donny and Marie" show for 3 1/2 seasons.

These days Rozario keeps busy as the bandleader for Dennis Bono and his weekly variety show. "Las Vegas Now" tapes before a live audience at Sam's Town Live! on Thursdays at 2 p.m., and is broadcast from 7 p.m.-8 p.m. Fridays on KJUL 104.3-FM.

The Las Vegas Sun recently talked to the 72-year-old Rozario about his involvement in last year's Darin biopic, "Beyond the Sea," working as conductor on Orlando's variety show, and Donny and Marie Osmond as two of the best lip-synchers in the business.

Las Vegas Sun: You played with Louis Prima for three years. What was that experience like?

Bob Rozario: Great. He was probably the hottest lounge act at the time. In those days after the major stars would finish their shows in the main room, they would all come and watch Louis work. So when we came onstage there was always ... you name it, Sinatra was in the audience, Sammy Davis -- all the major stars.

I was with him for a little over three years. By that time he had moved to the Sands hotel (from the Sahara) and it took a little bit of the magic out. I didn't enjoy myself as much then. So I left the group and I started freelancing around town and then I got a call from Bobby Darin.

Sun: How did Bobby hear about you?

BR: Through other musicians. That's basically how I got all my work in those days, by word of mouth.

The musicians told me that they had set up something in Los Angeles for me and I really didn't know who it was for. Being young at the time, I just went along with it and I went to L.A. I went to a rehearsal hall and sat at the piano and in walks Bobby. He had some music and he put it on the piano and he asked me to play. I started reading the music, he started singing. He thanked me after three songs and then he walked out.

Two weeks later and I get a call from his manager. The manager said, "Bobby wants you to fly to Puerto Rico ... and he wants to you to go first because he wants you to rehearse the orchestra." When he said that I panicked. I said "Marty, I'm honored that Bobby wants me to play piano for him, but as far as rehearsing the orchestra, I'm not a conductor. I can't take the job." He gave me Bobby's phone number and I called him. I said, "Bobby ... I have no idea how to conduct."

He says to me, "You don't tell anybody and I won't tell anybody" and he hangs up the phone.

Sun: What was Bobby like?

BR: He was the best. He was the nicest person. He could be tough. He knew exactly what he wanted, so if he wasn't getting it, he would be real tough. (But) if you were doing the job, he was the best.

Sun: You played with Bobby until he morphed from crooner to folk singer.

BR: I quit working with him while he went folksy, but I watched the whole process. He put folk-type music into the program. One day he walked out in a jeanlike tuxedo. He started out with just a jacket and then he went with the whole outfit. And then he stopped wearing his hairpiece. And then the audiences started getting hostile.

Sun: Why did he take his career in that direction?

BR: He wanted Robert Kennedy to become president. And when Robert Kennedy got assassinated it really did something to him. He took some time off. He thought, "Why am I singing all these happy songs when these are bad times? I should be singing songs that are more appropriate for the time." The Vietnam War was going on. He also was a friend of Martin Luther King and he got assassinated.

"Mac the Knife" and all that didn't mean to much to him then.

Sun: How did you feel about Bobby's new direction?

BR: I knew it wasn't going to work, but I couldn't convince him. So I left him for a while and went to Lake Tahoe. Then when he decided he was going to put back on the tuxedo he called me. He said, "I'm going back to work, I'm putting back my tuxedo, I'm putting back my hairpiece and do you want to come back and work with me?" I said, "Sure, when do you want me to start?" He said, "We can start tonight."

We just fell right back into the routine. It was as if we never stopped doing it. And the audiences were certainly happy.

Sun: Similar crooners, such as Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett, enjoyed a resurgence later in their careers. Would the same have held true for Bobby?

BR: He died when he was 37. That's a very young age to die. Had he lived he would have kept performing and he would be legendary by now. The same thing that happened to Tony would probably have happened to Bobby, because Bobby could cross over and sing any kind of song.

Sun: Did Kevin Spacey consult you for his Bobby Darin biopic, "Beyond the Sea"?

BR: They sent me one of those release forms where you have to sign your name and give them permission to use your name and I didn't sign it. At the time I heard that (Spacey) wanted to do his own singing and I was really opposed to that whole concept. If you look up on the screen and see a man who doesn't look like Bobby -- there's very slight resemblance -- and then you hear a voice coming out that doesn't sound like Bobby, how is the audience going to be convinced that they're watching the Bobby Darin story?

The movie didn't stay in theaters very long. It was a total flop and I'm glad I wasn't a part of it. I would have been very disappointed.

Sun: After working with Bobby, you joined Tony Orlando on his variety show. What was it like working with Tony?

BR: I conducted the orchestra. At CBS, the orchestra was located two stories below the studio where they were recording the show, so I wasn't even onstage with him. It was a very hard thing to do. I watched the whole show through a monitor and God forbid that a performer would run someplace where the cameras couldn't catch up to them, which was Tony's MO. He would run into the audience or run into the sides and I would lose him onscreen. And that's when I would panic, because I needed to watch him all the time.

I did come up onstage one time and he sat he down at the piano and had me play in different styles. He said, "I'm going to sing a song called, 'I Write the Songs,' " which was a big hit at the time for Barry Manilow ... and he said, "I want you to play the song like Fats Domino." Then, "I want you to play like Ray Charles." It became like a routine and it stayed in the act.

Sun: You were also the bandleader on "Donny and Marie."

BR: It turned out to be a very good experience. Even though Donny and Marie were not the kind of entertainers that Bobby Darin or Louis Prima or Tony Orlando were -- they didn't have the spontaneity -- when they rehearsed anything they were terrific. And they were probably the best lip-synchers in the business. We would prerecord the vocals and you would never know that they were not singing live.

Sun: Why did they prerecord the vocals?

BR: You get much better sound when it's prerecorded. When you're singing live there's all the ambient noises in a live performance. Plus, the orchestra is being pumped to you through speakers and that's getting to all the mikes and the sound isn't as clean. When you prerecorded it, it was like listening to a record. It's not that they couldn't sing live, it's just because we could get a better sound.

Sun: Tony Orlando sang live, though, didn't he?

BR: He sang some things live and some things prerecorded.

Sun: What about Bobby Darin?

BR: He sang everything live.

Sun: How did you meet up with Dennis Bono?

BR: When I came back to town I said I wasn't going to work and I bummed around for three years. Finally I got a call to be in the house band at the Desert Inn. And that's how I met Dennis Bono. Every act that came in to the showroom brought their own conductor and piano player, so rather than me staying home, they put me to work in the lounge. The lounge was bringing in different singers and one of the singers was Dennis. So that's where our friendship started. That was in the '90s.

He kept saying, "I want to do a radio show." I said, "Sure, sure, sure." And finally he got the radio show and we've been doing it for five years.

Sun: Is this is a gig you'll be happy with until you retire?

BR: Well, I think the next time might be for good. I might be playing and fall over.

Sun: Is that ultimately how you'd want to go out?

BR: I think so. I'd feel badly for the audience. I don't think they'd like to watch that happen.

archive