Considering how much I enjoyed "The Greatest Songs Of The Fifties" its strange that I did not feel same excitement for its sequel.
Could it be that I dislike the idea of sequels in general? It is usually sure sign that project is successful so hey, let's milk the same cow again and again - only sometimes (like in case of "Godfather" or with Ella Fitzgerald's songbooks) it actually makes artistic sense otherwise if you ask me, it just seems like good opportunity but cul-de-sac for an artist. Manilow or Stewart can enjoy this new, unexpected (or strategically well-planned, depends on point of view, ask Clive Davis who masterminds it all) renaissance of success but it does get predictable.
Where 1950s pop was cutesy, innocent backward glance now in this 1960s songbook I found it all polyester somehow - sure, 1960s were different things to different people, nobody says it was just Woodstock or just Folk or just Dylan or just one thing. And from commercial aspect, nobody would probably allow Manilow to go completely acid & trippy, the industry wants him to sell tons of albums to nostalgic audience who is satisfied with easy-listening pop. (I remember reading about Bette Midler's long-unfulfilled dream of recording music by Laura Nyro - so far, she was stuck with harmless jazz covers, forget about "Captain St.Lucifer" and anything remotely adventurous.) So finally, what do we got here: Manilow crooning easy-listening classics that we all know too well, like "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" and "Strangers In The Night". He sounds good - little flourish here and there, nothing annoying and thankfully no melismas - but pleasant as it is, to my ears this sounds like Karaoke. Where "The Greatest Songs Of The Fifties" was genuinely enjoyable, the sequel is simply too predictable. Why not simply listening to originals?
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