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Harry Connick Jr.
by Brett Milano
The Boston Phoenix, 1996 Best Music Poll
Maybe it's because of that infamous remark he made comparing himself to
Frank Sinatra, but Harry Connick Jr. has enormous popularity and almost no
hip/critical cachet. We'd maintain, however, that the folks who've been getting
down with the cocktail trend -- the ones who've been snapping up Henry
Mancini reissues and working on their outfits for the next Combustible Edison
show -- have no excuse not to listen to Connick, because he's been doing the
same stuff for years. Unlike the Stings and Boltons and the other modern-day,
easy-listening crooners who descend from rock, Connick proudly presents
himself as a throwback. And while he'll never be mistaken for Sinatra (unless
you mean Frank Jr.), he gets the old-fashioned romance across quite nicely,
thank you. But all the above has nothing to do with Connick's last album and
tour. On the recent album She (Columbia), Connick made a downright
perverse move by hiring the Meters' rhythm section, picking up a guitar, and
fashioning himself as a funkateer; a followup Great Woods gig left a few jaws
dropping in disbelief and made fans wonder about his next move. Meanwhile
he wins in our jazz category, though, strictly speaking, he hasn't worked in that
format for some time.
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