Artist

Frances Faye

Genre: Jazz ,Vocal Jazz ,Traditional Pop ,Vocal Pop
Origin: U.S.A
Active: 1928 - 1978
Listen on Coda
Enthusiasts for 1950s female vocalists frequently lament the scant recognition granted to Frances Faye, one of the genuine standouts of that era. Much like Peggy Lee, she came across as a striking, offbeat blonde who could dash off a sharp composition whenever the impulse struck.

Her recording activity had already stretched back decades, as she wrote and co-wrote material that she and other artists, among them the Andrews Sisters, committed to disc throughout the late 1930s and 1940s. She entered the profession at sixteen by stepping in for a local pianist on an amateur broadcast after misfortune sidelined him. Two years later she made her first stage appearance in Brooklyn and then spent several seasons touring the vaudeville and nightclub circuit as an accompanist for singers. When a club owner abruptly dismissed one of those vocalists just before showtime, Faye stepped forward to fill the slot herself.

A sustained run of nightclub engagements followed, and by 1934 her calendar kept her working eleven months out of every year, much of it on the road. Her first hit arrived in 1936 with the introspective “No Regrets.” The Andrews Sisters’ reading of “Well, All Right” then sent the tune spinning on jukeboxes nationwide.

The following year she appeared alongside Bing Crosby and Martha Raye in the film Double or Nothing, playing Raye’s sister and sharing a nightclub act with her; the trio’s rendition of “After You” stands out as a musical peak. Critics placed her vocal force on a par with Dinah Washington rather than the sugary style typical of commercial female pop singers. When she supplied her own keyboard accompaniment, club owners sometimes complained that her pounding reduced the piano’s action to sawdust. Faye could deliver the romantic fare associated with more mainstream performers such as the effervescent Doris Day, yet she also slipped obscure songwriting gems and gritty, suggestive rhythm & blues numbers into her sets.

She kept composing across her career, producing such titles as “Purple Wine,” “You’re Heavenly,” “Frances and Her Friends,” and “A Good Idea.” Choosing artistic priorities over mass-market reach, she left her major-label arrangement with Capitol to record for the jazz-focused Bethlehem label. The move raised both the quality and breadth of her work, though it reduced her general visibility. Unlike many contemporaries who appeared on television, Faye never did; her screen career amounted to only two minor roles. Perhaps she was judged insufficiently glamorous for 1950s mass media or Hollywood tastes; as she herself put it, “I’m not pretty but I’m neat. Meticulous. You could eat off me.” Her frank acknowledgment of her alternative sexuality may have posed a further obstacle. Beyond shaping the sassy, irreverent approach of later nightclub performers such as Lena Horne, Eartha Kitt, and Bette Midler, she ranked among the earliest openly gay female entertainers, regularly dropping the couplet “Faye, Faye, gay, gay/is there any other way?” into her stage patter.

Her last major recordings date from 1964, yet she continued club work well into the 1980s. Even in the 1970s she still headlined in New York, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, Miami, England, and Australia. In 1977 she portrayed a wisecracking madam in French director Louis Malle’s controversial film Pretty Baby, which, in her words, “opens with me in bed smoking an opium pipe with a wig half off my head.” After a series of strokes, possibly linked to the intensity of her life, she died in the early 1990s. Reissues of her long-unavailable material began to appear only near the decade’s end. Bethlehem led the way with Frances Faye Sings Folk Songs, an album that remains both remarkable and somewhat misleading as a portrait of her style. Fans greeted the reissue of her two volumes of live recordings, packaged together on the single CD Frances Faye: Caught in the Act, with their own chorus of “Well, All Right.” Her career also figures in Bruce Weber’s documentary film Chop Suey.