From Sinatra’s Pianist, One More for the Road

The question of whether Frank Sinatra was or wasn’t a jazz singer will probably be argued by jazz fans forever. But did Sinatra think of himself as a jazz artist?

Bill Miller, his longtime accompanist, thinks the answer is “yes.”

“I think he did, without saying it,” says Miller. “He never said it, that I remember. But then he never called himself a pop singer either. But I know that he felt most comfortable around jazz musicians, and--despite his occasional flare-ups--he had a real respect for the better players.”

Although Sinatra, who died on May 14 of a heart attack at the age 82, generally preferred to lock a tune into an interpretation and then stick with it, he also favored the swinging drive that only comes from jazz-oriented players. And Miller feels that the early ‘50s saw a significant change in the singer’s musical point of view.

“At that time,” says Miller, “I’m not so sure that he even really knew how good he was. The ballads, he knew he had down. But I think he was still a little bit insecure with his so-called ad-libbing. That’s why he would ask for suggestions every now and then. But then, when we started doing the Capitol recordings, he really began to mature.

“He had good time himself, and when he got a rhythm section he wanted, it was instilled in his mind that he had to have the whole band swinging together. That’s why, after Nelson Riddle, he wanted arrangers who could swing, like Billy May, Neal Hefti and Don Costa.”

The pianist came on board with Sinatra in November 1951, and--with the exception of a nearly seven-year hiatus--he was the Chairman of the Board’s accompanist through thick and thin, in the good times and the bad. (That’s him on the classic Capitol version of “One for My Baby.”) And Sinatra, who did not read music, often depended upon Miller to communicate with the arrangers and orchestrators.

“In rehearsals, he usually knew what he wanted,” says Miller, “and he was always open to suggestions. But he didn’t know musical terms. He’d say, ‘I hear cellos here,’ but he couldn’t explain why. So occasionally I had to be a secretary between him and the arranger.

“When we did the bossa nova album, he said, ‘Meet with Claus Ogerman, the arranger, and discuss whatever has to be done.’ He had no ideas about what to do with it, or what to call it, because he didn’t know that much about bossa nova. Ogerman, who was suggested by [Antonio Carlos] Jobim, of course, knew the music. So I told Sinatra, ‘He’ll know what to do.’ And Sinatra said, ‘Well, just tell him not to get too far out!’ ”

Miller recalls thorny moments with Sinatra, as well, especially in the early years of their association, which began when the pianist was booked into the rhythm section for Sinatra’s CBS television show in 1951.

“His TV show went off the air after four months,” he notes, “he had all the problems with Ava Gardner [his second wife], he wasn’t singing well. And that’s when he would really lose his cool, so to speak, and blame the band for everything.”

It was a time, according to Miller, when Sinatra could be “pretty demanding.”

“If things went well, he was easy,” says Miller. “If things weren’t going well, it didn’t matter whether he was right or wrong--you were wrong. If he wasn’t up to par, whether physically or vocally, he would kind of throw it off with ‘The band’s not quite in shape’ or ‘They’re not quite with it.’ Not all the time, but every now and then. There was a little insecurity there, I think.

“I remember once, when we were in Chicago in 1952, and we had a marvelous band to work with. But after each show, Sinatra would say, ‘What’s wrong with that band? Are they playing that way for spite?’ ”

Despite the occasional problems, the only real glitch in the Sinatra-Miller relationship took place in the late ‘70s.

“We had a falling out,” recalls Miller. “I think he got tired of looking at me.”

The separation lasted for nearly seven years. And, typically for Sinatra, it was resolved in purely spontaneous fashion.

“I ran into him by accident one day,” says Miller, “and he said, ‘Did you get a call from my lawyer?’ Because that’s how you usually communicated with him--through Mickey Rudin, his lawyer. I said, ‘No.’ And that was all there was to that until the next day when I got a call from Mickey Rudin asking would I like to come back.”

Miller returned, and one of the music world’s long-lasting associations, one that was--despite Sinatra’s enormous visibility as a pop icon--rooted in jazz, continued until the final winding down of the singer’s career in the mid-’90s. And it will resume again Saturday, when he plays at the gala tribute to Sinatra at the MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas, which benefits the Barbara Sinatra Children’s Center.

Riffs: Herbie Hancock is the latest jazz artist to have his own record label. It will be called Hancock Records, and will create new releases to be distributed by Verve, Verve Forecast and Antilles. The first release, scheduled for July 21, will be “The Return of the Headhunters.” . . . Pianist-comedian-author Steve Allen is wearing his jazz hat this week at Catalina Bar & Grill. Fronting a big, roaring 17-piece band, Allen is making a rare club appearance, and an even rarer performance backed by such significant jazz firepower. . . . Mike Zwerin, jazz columnist of the International Herald Tribune, also had an ephemeral career as a trombonist, performing with the Miles Davis “Birth of the Cool” band in the late ‘40s. Celebrating that relationship, he is now conducting a 38-week series titled “Sons of Miles” via his Jazznet column at the European online publication Culturekiosque, at https://www.culturekiosque.com.