Nancy Sinatra
at Mama Kin
by Chris Adams
photo by Joe Reilly
Nancy Sinatra has had one helluva life so far. First and foremost, she’s the daughter of the ubiquitous Frank, bar none the coolest mob-protected half-soused total bastard who ever flubbed the words to a timeless classic (runner up: Me, excepting the mob bit). In the mid-to-late ’60s, she was swingin’ ex-kitten supremo, a groovy now-generation chick who starred in biker B-flicks with Peter Fonda and released a string of high-camp, kitschy pop hits. Now, at 54 (no shit!), she’s got her own spread in Playboy (pun most certainly intended) and she’s making a musical comeback with her new album, One More Time, along with an American tour to support it. At the opening of her Mama Kin show, Nancy strutted onstage in a black leather jacket and shades, sending up her ’60s good-girl-gone-bad image. The crowd, which seemed to be predominantly drag queens and middle-aged nostalgia freaks, went so apeshit ya woulda thought it was her dad up there. She offered a shy, sweet-voiced “thank you” and trotted into her first hit song “How Does That Grab You, Darlin’?” Her 8-piece band was as tight and professional as you’d expect a buncha hired circuit-hacks to be. Of course, Ms. Sinatra ain’t as slinky as she used to be (after all, she’s had 27 years to sag – and what the fuck is up with her mouth?), but she still exudes a coy sexuality that’d get yer dad all hot and bothered. Over the course of an hour and a half, Nancy served up what was expected of her – stuff like “Lightning’s Girl,” “The Last of the Secret Agents,” and “Friday’s Girl,” plus a few new ones that sounded surprisingly good, in Nancy’s standard country-pop kinda way. In the middle of the show, Nancy’s old collaborator, superdude Lee Hazelwood, came on and duetted with her on five or six tunes. It fuckin’ ruled my sorry-ass world.
Hazelwood has a voice so coarse and deep that he makes Leonard Cohen sound like Tiny Tim.
He also has a sadly overlooked songwriting talent. “Sand,” for example, is the blueprint from which the Mary Chain drafted their vastly inferior “Sometimes Always.” “Some Velvet Morning,” which struck me as the highlight of the show, is proof enough that even Nashville-types occasionally enjoyed the odd acid-laced Kool-Aid. Other highlights included covers of the Beatles’ “Run For Your Life” and “Day Tripper” (supplemented by ultra-cheesy “psychedelic” strobes), as well as a cover of “Lies” by ’60s unknowns, the Knickerbockers. Naturally, Nancy encored with “These Boots Are Made For Walkin'” which was OK, but isn’t everybody sick of that one? Apparently not, judging from the deafening crowd response. The extended “lemme introduce the band” jam/solo-wank didn’t help, either. But, aside from that, I thought the show was flawless entertainment. Fuck, I’d do her. (But if her dad found out, he’d have me killed.)
