Forgotten Record Review: Claudine Longet  | Entertainment News | Dayton Events, Things to Do & More

In the late ‘60s easy listening music was dominated by two different strains: Brazilian and French. The Brazilian sound was popular from the Stan Getz Bossa nova records and Sergio Mendes. The French from the Swingle Singers, Michel LeGrand and Claudine Longet.

Longet is forgotten today, but the actress-singer was once a budding celebrity thanks to seven albums she made from 1967-1972. She was in a Peter Sellers movie during that time and worked for A&M records, also home to Sergio Mendes.

Longet married the two styles by singing French songs and Brazilian songs (in Portuguese and English). Mostly she sang cover versions of pop rock tunes, and it’s not what she sings but how that makes her worth hearing.

Her style could be called tentative, almost embarrassed. All Music Guide critic Stewart Mason called it “wispy, little girl vocals.”

In other words, she was pathetic in a good way. Listen to “The End of the World” and you’ll fight the urge to hand her some chicken soup and a handkerchief.

She had difficulty pronouncing her r’s. In her mouth “cream of the crop” became “cweam of da cwop.” Imagine Elmer Fudd as a French pixie and you get the idea.

She was best with her native tongue. “A Man and a Woman” and “Let It Be Me (Je T’Appartiens),” for example, gave no hint of her impediment.

Not that it was bad. In fact, it was endearing. She was the female Rod McKuen — women weren’t threatened by her and men wanted to save her. The fact that she never sang McKuen’s songs was a missed opportunity. He’s one of the few musicians she didn’t cover; her album credits reads like a who’s-who of the era.

Including Mick Jagger and Keith Richard. “Her relaxed bongos and slide guitar version of ‘Let’s Spend the Night Together’ is a real easy pop gem,” according to critic Tim Sendra.

That’s one way to change rock ‘n’ roll. So is making “When I’m Sixty-Four” a beer garden sing-along. I know, but trust me — it works better than you’d think.

In fact, all those old A&M records sound amazing, thanks to engineer Bruce Botnick and arranger Nick De Caro. They had a light touch, supporting the lead singer without being overwhelming.

Check out Longet’s “Creators of Rain,” with its gentle flute and guitars, or “Manha de Carnaval,” with its tasteful trumpet — no solos allowed — or “A Man and a Woman” and her suavely anonymous male partner.

“Tu as Beau Sorire,” with its gorgeous melody, sounds suspiciously like “Jean” two years before “Jean.” Maybe McKuen was taking notes on her.

“Man in a Raincoat” is one of her best with its strings, Getz-type saxophone and her whispery delivery. She’s abandoned by a conman who steals more than money and the song’s beauty conflicts with ugly reality.

Just like her.

Stewart Mason called hers a “pleasantly insubstantial persona,” and he’s not wrong. Claudine was less a person than a product. Her audience never got a sense of the woman behind the gauzy romanticism.

That might have been a good thing. In March of 1976, Claudine Longet killed her boyfriend, Olympic skier Vladimir “Spider” Sabich, in Aspen, Colorado. She shot him twice while he was brushing his teeth. According to writer Robin Bougie, Sabich was done with her and she couldn’t accept it.

Longet’s ex-husband, singer Andy Williams, paid her legal defense. His money was well spent. She was drunk and high on cocaine at the time. Her lawyers — Charles Weedman (L.A.) and Ron Austin (Aspen) — managed to suppress that fact.

They also suppressed a confession she made without a lawyer present.

Luckily for her, the pistol’s safety was broken. She was convicted of negligent homicide in January 1977, with 30 days in prison and a $250 fine.

Ron Austin then divorced his wife and eventually married Longet, who quietly settled out of court with Sabich’s family. The couple lived a few miles away from the crime scene.

Longet and Williams had been friends of Robert F. Kennedy, and rumors persisted that Williams asked Ethel Kennedy, RFK’s widow, to apply political pressure for their children’s sake.

It’s plausible. An SNL skit called “The Claudine Longet Invitational Ski Championship” aired once in 1976 before Lorne Michaels issued an apology and canned the footage. The Rolling Stones song “Claudine” was delayed from Some Girls (1978) — for 33 years.

Andy Williams’ influence protected Claudine from all consequences but one — the murder destroyed her career.

Both are unfortunate. She had talent, and her records are worth your time, especially “Claudine,” “The Look of Love” (both 1967) and “Colours” (1968).

Claudine Longet died three weeks ago at age 84.