Beer had just become legal, FDR was beginning his fireside chats, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers had their first hit in ”Flying Down to Rio,” and a 21-year-old barber named Pierino Como had put down his shears to try his luck as a crooner.
The year was 1933, ”but it seems like 100 years ago, doesn`t it?” says Perry Como, the beloved pop singer who turns 80 in May but still is packing houses wherever he plays.
For the fans who still flock to hear him, and for anyone else who appreciates an exquisite melody effortlessly sung, Como epitomizes an almost vanished era that somehow re-emerges whenever he leans into a microphone. Never mind the excruciating decibel levels of `60s and `70s rock, forget the martial chants of `80s and `90s rap.
When Como is intimating ”Till the End of Time” or whispering ”And I Love You So,” listeners can relive a period of American pop when melodies were unforgettable and lyrics were meant to be heard.
That audiences still respond to Como`s warm sound in a decidedly noisier age surprises the singer, who opens a three-night engagement Friday at the Star Plaza Theatre in Merrillville, Ind.
”It`s amazing to me that so many people still come,” says Como, whose conversation is as frank and unaffected as his singing.
”I`m the kind of guy who`s very allergic to empty seats. If they`re going to be empty, I`ll just stay home and fish.
”But they`re still filled, and I even see young people at my concerts, which I never expect. So whenever I spot some kids in the audience, I accuse them of maybe serving penance or something, and they laugh. I say: `Are you sure your mother didn`t send you here?` And they insist they came
voluntarily.”
It`s not hard to understand why. Beyond Como`s easygoing musical charm and fabled career, which includes 20 gold records and more than 100 million albums sold, there`s another critical factor behind his durability: Rock fans of the `60s and `70s have grown up, as have their tastes.
Thus retro-pop singers such as Harry Connick Jr., Michael Feinstein and Natalie Cole are enjoying huge careers, working the repertoire that artists such as Como, Frank Sinatra and Nat ”King” Cole pioneered. With more than half the record-buying public older than 30 (according to the Recording Industry Association of America), music outside the realm of rock is on the rise again.
”Maybe the young people are getting a little tired of all that noise, which I never understood at all and still don`t,” says Como. ”I don`t mean this as a put-down, but I don`t even know what the hell they are even doing on stage.
”I guess it`s the kids` way of saying, `This is our music,` which is fine. We used to do the same thing; we had favorite singers and favorite bands.”
But Como`s world was a far gentler place, with the mellifluous sounds of Bing Crosby and Russ Columbo in everyone`s ear when young Pierino was coming of age.
Told to get a trade
Though able to croon all the latest tunes, Como had no intention of going into show business. The seventh of 13 children, he was informed early on by immigrant parents that he had better get a trade. By 15, he was running his own barbershop in Canonsburg, Pa., and he wasn`t about to risk it for all the lights on Broadway.
”If I remember correctly, I was in Cleveland when it all started,”
recalls Como, who resisted stardom virtually every step of the way.
”We were at a dance at the Crystal Ballroom, and the kids told me to go up there with the band and do a song.
”And I said: `You`ve got to be joking,` but they actually pushed me up on the stage, so I sang a couple of tunes” with Freddy Carlone`s orchestra.
”Then I went back home to cutting hair. But two weeks later I got a wire from Freddy: `Would you like to join the band?` I thought maybe he was putting me on.
”And I said, `No, I`ve got a job-and I`ve got my own barbershop too.”`
As fate would have it, Carlone was a barber-turned-musician, which helped seduce Como into giving show business a whirl. But after a couple of years on the road with Carlone, ”I had my fun, and I was ready to go back and cut hair again,” says Como, who felt certain he already had found his calling.
Contrary to Como`s plans, however, he had achieved a growing reputation as a singer blessed with a breezy, conversational approach to a lyric. So by 1936, just about when Como was ready to hang up his microphone for good, two big-time bands began dueling for his services.
”Paul Whiteman wanted me to go with him, but I said, `No way,”` recalls Como, possibly the only singer in America who would turn down a job with the self-proclaimed King of Jazz.
”Whiteman was the band at the time, and he played a lot of big concerts,” acknowledges Como. ”But I said to myself: `What the hell would I do singing there? Dance halls I understand, but concerts? Forget it.”`
Instead, Como cast his fate with the lesser-known Ted Weems Orchestra.
”All my friends in the Carlone band kept saying, `Get out of here and join Weems; maybe you`ll become somebody.”`
So Como and Weems settled in at the Empire Room in Chicago, where live radio broadcasts on the Mutual Network placed Como firmly on the pop-culture map.
”Chicago was where it all took off,” says Como. ”It was a wild town. You had the Palmer House, all the hotels, the Blackhawk (restaurant) and the Aragon (ballroom)-a great town for bands and for singers.
”In the Empire Room, I remember exactly the show we did: Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy were on the bill.”
What was Como singing in those days?
”Anything that Elmo wouldn`t whistle,” he says with a chuckle, referring to legendary novelty act Elmo Tanner.
”If there was a great song like `Star Dust` to come out, Elmo would whistle it. But if there was some crazy thing that had been written on the back of a menu, I`d get to sing it.”
After six years of playing second fiddle to Elmo`s puckered lips, Como figured ”I was almost through,” he says. ”I had enjoyed myself, but I thought: `This is it.` I had a few dollars, figured I`d buy a little barbershop somewhere.
”And it was my wife”-Roselle, whom Como married in the early `30s-”who said, `No, you`re not going home.”`
Sinatra was hot
Fortunately for Como, a seemingly undernourished baritone named Francis Albert Sinatra was causing a sensation in New York in the early `40s, which put a premium on young, handsome crooners such as Como.
”By the time I got to New York, the fire was on for Frank,” says Como.
”He was at the Paramount Theater with the bow ties and the kids screaming and all that stuff, and they (Como`s new management, General Artists) wanted me to do the same thing.
”Frank went to the Riobamba club, and they wanted to put me in the Copacabana, which I did later on. So when I said, `No,` they said, `You`re throwing away a lot of money.`
”But I said: `If it`s going to come, it`ll come. Don`t worry about it,`
” says Como, expressing his characteristically tranquil approach to life and show business. ”In fact, I only agreed to come to New York if I could get on radio.
”And they said: `Radio? You can`t make any money there.` ”
Nevertheless, Como prevailed, hosted a radio show five days a week and immediately became one of the hottest singers in America.
Signed by RCA Victor in the mid-`40s, Como scored 42 Top 10 hits from 1944 to 1958; from 1940 to 1955, only Crosby had more hits.
Como`s voice was everywhere during the postwar period, confiding such tunes as ”Long Ago and Far Away,” ”Till the End of Time” (based on a Chopin polonaise), ”If I Loved You,” ”I`m Forever Chasing Rainbows”
(based on a Chopin impromptu), ”With a Song in My Heart,” ” `A` You`re Adorable,” ”Some Enchanted Evening,” ”Don`t Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes” and dozens more.
It`s a measure of Como`s talent that he was able to make hits of such dubious material as ”A Hubba-Hubba-Hubba,” ”Hot Diggity (Dog Ziggity Boom),” ”Papa Loves Mambo” and ”Prisoner of Love,” the latter carrying the immortal lyric: ”She`s in my dreams awake or sleeping/Upon my knees to her I`m creeping.”
”There were about a dozen songs that I have gold records for, but that
(initially) caused me to tell the record producers, `I can`t sing that garbage,”` says Como. ”And the (artists and repertory) man at RCA would say: `Just do one take-one take for me.` And I`d say: `I`m going to get ill if I do two.`
”When I recorded that stuff, I thought: `My God, this is going to be the end of me-I`m going back to cutting hair again.`
”But you know something? Who knows what people are going to buy? But I sure won`t sing those things anymore. When people ask me for them, I say,
`Sorry, I`ve lost the music.”`
Smooth as silk
Though Como says he doesn`t know why America`s pop audience embraced him
(”Originally, I gave my career maybe two weeks”), his easygoing, homespun delivery probably had something to do with it.
That laidback manner also may explain why Como`s star continued to soar through the late `40s and `50s, while Sinatra`s sank. Not until the mid- to late-`50s would America be ready for Sinatra`s jazz-tinged, hard-swinging style.
Como, by contrast, was smooth as silk and as friendly as the guy next door. Little wonder his TV variety show, which ran from 1955 to 1963, was virtually an American institution.
”I can`t think of anyone (famous) who wasn`t on that show-Judy Garland, Frank, Bing, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Rock Hudson, you name it,” says Como, who later appeared on various TV specials.
”It was fun to talk with them, sing a couple songs. John Wayne didn`t sing, but we had him try, and it was a ball.
”And we got screwed up plenty. I think that`s where all that nonsense got started about what a relaxed guy I supposedly was. But if something went wrong on the set, I couldn`t do anything about it, so why get all upset?
”I remember doing one show when we started out with six cameras and wound up with one. One by one, they went down.
”So on TV you`d see a picture of an eye, and then three legs, and the back end of a woman. We had Esther Williams on for that show, and they had built a plastic pool for her, so that she could take a little swim and show us her stroke.
”By the end of the show, everything had gone wrong, people were running all over the place, the audience in the theater was going crazy with laughter. ”At the end I sang a song and said: `Folks, you know what happened, I don`t know how to fix it. So see you next week, same time,` and I jumped right into Esther`s pool with all my clothes on.
”The guys on the set said I had to be crazy, but I`ll tell you one thing-I was dying inside.
”But, frankly, once TV went on tape, it kind of destroyed everything. That was the end of the fun of television. I`ve been asked many times to come back and do another variety show, but I always say: `No way. It`s gone.”`
Even the TV Christmas specials that used to be Como`s forte no longer interest him.
”I got off it because they used to put me on Saturday night at 10 o`clock, three weeks before Christmas. And I told them: `You guys are forgetting what Christmas is all about. Saturday night is no good-that`s a night when everyone is drinking.`
”So they did it anyway, the ratings were lousy, so I said: `I tell you what. When you get a better time, call me.`
”And I guess they forgot to call-I think they lost my number,” says Como with a laugh. ”Which is OK-now I do the show on the stage, and I have more fun that way anyway.
”Last year was the first year I did a holiday show (in theaters). At first I didn`t want to, because there were a lot of kids already doing it, like Andy Williams and Kenny Rogers. But once I started, it was really a kick.”
Few regrets
Unlike many stars of his stature, Como doesn`t party with the Hollywood crowd, choosing instead to live out of the limelight in Florida. He and Roselle have been married 58 years, and he has kept up his barbering technique by occasionally trimming the locks of 3 children, 13 grandchildren and 1 great-grandchild.
If Como has any regrets, they`re slight.
”I really wish I had kept up with piano lessons; I would like nothing better than to just sit down and play piano for my own amusement,” confesses a fellow whose singing style has made him a fortune.
”Why people still listen to me sing-I have no explanation for it,” adds Como, who apparently takes all things in stride.
”You just sing, and if it comes out, fine. If it doesn`t, just take a nap.”
