Some voices don’t age. They season.
My initial desire in covering Engelbert Humperdinck came from a place of self-interest. For years I have been fascinated by Jayne Mansfield and her home at 10100 Sunset Boulevard in Holmby Hills, Los Angeles — the Pink Palace, that extravagant mansion with its distinctive pink exterior and lavish interior, a symbol of Hollywood glamour during Mansfield’s heyday in the 1950s and 1960s. Humperdinck eventually acquired the Pink Palace and embarked on a restoration project to preserve its unique charm and history while adding his personal touches to the estate. It became a private retreat, a reflection of his taste, and a symbol of his success — and of his appreciation for Hollywood history and his commitment to preserving its legacy.
Nevertheless, Engelbert Humperdinck sings and performs from the heart. Watch the footage from June 13, 2024: the baritone is intact, the phrasing is unhurried, and the room leans in. The last of a breed.
From Arnold George Dorsey
Engelbert Humperdinck was born Arnold George Dorsey on May 2, 1936. He adopted his distinctive stage name in the 1960s at the suggestion of his manager, Gordon Mills, who believed the borrowed grandeur of a 19th-century German composer’s name would give the young singer an edge in a competitive industry. It was one of the great rebrandings in pop history.
The breakthrough came in the mid-1960s with “Release Me,” and it came with a story only show business could write. The single had been sitting on the shelf for months when the singer booked for Sunday Night at the London Palladium — Britain’s most-watched variety show — fell ill. Humperdinck stepped in as a last-minute replacement, sang “Release Me” to an estimated 20 million viewers, and the next day orders for 80,000 copies came in. On March 2, 1967, the song hit No. 1 on the UK Singles Chart and stayed there for six consecutive weeks — holding the Beatles’ double A-side “Penny Lane” / “Strawberry Fields Forever” at No. 2 the entire run, the first time since “Love Me Do” that a Beatles record had failed to reach the top in Britain. It became the highest-selling single of 1967 in the UK, with more than a million copies sold, and reached No. 4 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100.
Even the B-side told a story: “Ten Guitars,” the flip of “Release Me,” became a surprise No. 1 hit in its own right in New Zealand on the back of the single’s distribution — the kind of footnote that only happens to records the public truly takes to heart. By the end of 1967, a singer who had been a last-minute substitute on a variety show was one of the biggest names in popular music on both sides of the Atlantic.
The Last of a Breed
What followed was a string of hits that defined an era of romantic pop: “The Last Waltz,” “Quando, Quando, Quando,” “Spanish Eyes,” “After the Lovin’.” Known for his smooth baritone voice, impeccable style, and charismatic stage presence, Humperdinck became a global sensation, captivating audiences with romantic ballads and soulful performances that transcended generations.
The numbers tell the rest: more than 150 million records sold worldwide, making him one of the best-selling artists of all time; Grammy nominations; a Golden Globe; a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Beyond the music, he has supported charities and causes close to his heart for decades. And he remains active — touring extensively, delighting audiences with timeless hits and engaging performances, well into his eighties.
That is what “last of a breed” means. Not the end of something, but the living proof of it: the crooner tradition, the velvet phrasing, the dignity of a song sung straight from the heart. On June 13, 2024, LIKE was there to record it — and the breed, thank heaven, is still singing.
(LIKE® Music · Video: Michael de la Force · 13 June 2024)