In the name of hip

From the Spring 2003 issue.

There is something very good and right and balanced about sitting here in 2003 listening to a new album by Nat King Cole's kid brother. Thirty-eight years after Nat passed, Freddy carries the torch of torch music forward.

Yeah, we know, that age is over – Frank and Dino and Sammy are all gone, and Duke and Count are dead, too. But Freddy still has it, man – that unmistakable aura of hip. The ability to hold a note past the beat, to paint with silence better than most singers can with their voice. To take any song and make it his own.

Look, we'll never see a generation like that again – singers who could go up on stage and bare their very essence in the format of a three-minute pop song. But they're not all gone yet – do yourself a favor and give your soul a shot of Freddy Cole. You deserve it.

Review by Jim Trageser. Jim is a writer and editor living in Escondido, Calif., and was a contributor to the "Grove Press Guide to Blues on CD" (1993) and "The Routledge Encyclopedia of the Blues" (2005).