Last of the Romantics: A Tale of Engelbert Humperdinck

I started collecting records in earnest in the early 2000s when I was in my 30s. The initial purpose was to perpetuate a mood. As I, at this time, began to fully live This Vintage Life, owning records seemed essential to my pursuit. Owning certain records. I think, really, I started buying them because, as I began to frequent thrift stores, I would constantly run across scores of albums by Ray Conniff and Herb Alpert and the TJB. These, to me, seemed the quintessence of “vinyl”. It was only later that I began collecting LPs from the 70s and beyond but initially there was a certain type I was after. Belafonte’s Calypso, for example.

As I continued to explore the easy livin’ classics of the 1960s, it became apparent to both my wife and I that Engelbert Humperdinck certainly was a part of the dapper vibe I was seeking. As I began to collect his early records, it was confirmed for me that Hump was an important part of Sixties vocal music and the adult contemporary sounds of the age. His singing and his songs from this time are magnificent and his life and career warrants closer inspection.


Humperdinck was born Arnold George Dorsey in Madras, British India – now known as Chennai, India – on May 2nd, 1936. His dad was a British Army officer stationed there and the family grew to include 10 children. In 1947, the family moved to Leicester, England and the young Arnold George developed a love for music and for impressions. His dead-on mimicry of Jerry Lewis started friends referring to him as “Gerry” and the name Gerry Dorsey stuck. Through the Fifties and early Sixties, Gerry released a few singles on Decca, toured regularly and worked the nightclubs with little to show for it.

Gordon Mills (1935-1986) was also born in Madras the son of a British Army officer. Mills had written some songs before moving into management. Mills had been managing Tom Jones for a short time when he also took on Dorsey’s career. The first move Gordon made was a huge one; he decided Gerry needed a name change and borrowed “Engelbert Humperdinck” from a 19th-century German composer of operas. Today, searching the name, you’ll get not only the British singer but the German who wrote Hansel and Gretel and, more than that, Hump has had a measure of fame down through the years simply on the strength of his strange handle.

Humperdinck broke out in 1967 with his second single and this first hit remains an iconic recording of the era and of a particular style of late 60s songcraft. “Release Me” – sometimes titled with “and Let Me Love Again” – began life as a country & western tune and Engelbert’s version became an international hit reaching #4 in the US (it remains his highest-charting single Stateside) and topping the charts in four countries including the UK. In my article on the Beatles, I mentioned that, of their eleven non-album singles, only two did not reach #1 in the UK. It was in fact Hump’s “Release Me” that kept “Strawberry Fields Forever/Penny Lane” out of the top spot in ’67 and also of note is the fact that young session musician Jimmy Page plays on “Release Me”. The B side of Hump’s first hit was a Gordon Mills-penned tune, “Ten Guitars”. A sneaky-good song, I have always loved this bouncy ditty that somehow was a mega-hit in New Zealand. You want a rabbit hole? Dig this: a DJ in Rotorua in the small island country was sent the single by Humperdinck but was underwhelmed. He dug the flip, though, and started playing it with his band in a hotel lounge. Crowds went wild. They wanted the words typed out for them and soon the whole country was singing it, the young Maoris taking it to their bosom. It has been recorded by many Maori singers and even inspired a 1999 sculpture comprised of guitars – ten, believe it or not – made of a “variety of woods, paua inlay, steel strings, chrome hardware, speakers, video”. Humperdinck is always welcomed in New Zealand, once playing to 250,000 people there and having to do “Ten Guitars” three times in one performance. Humperdinck may be the only English artist to be “big in New Zealand”.

Dallas Frazier (1939-2022) was a country music songwriter with many notable songs to his credit; “Alley-Oop”, “Mohair Sam”, “Elvira” and a clutch recorded by Presley including “True Love Travels on a Gravel Road”, “Wearin’ That Loved on Look” and “Where Did They Go, Lord?”. Dallas wrote “There Goes My Everything”, which served as Hump’s next single, hitting the Top 20 in both England and the US. The delightful “The Last Waltz” followed and became Engelbert’s second Number One song in the UK; it also topped charts in Australia and across Europe. 1968 saw Humperdinck release another triumvirate of excellent singles.

Official Hump

“Am I That Easy to Forget” was another country song turned big hit by an adult contemporary artist, something that was in vogue at the time. Humperdinck then took the Italian tune “Quando m’innamoro” and turned it into “A Man Without Love”. This international hit served as the title track for Engelbert’s 1968 LP; it is a record and this is a song that serve as the very epitome of the best of this type of music from this time. More on this later. “Les Bicyclettes de Belsize” was the theme to a short film that was intended as a parody of the film The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Hump’s single of the delightful waltz was another in a string of Top 5 songs on the UK Charts.

Humperdinck’s third consecutive and final year of chart mastery came in 1969 when he added three more jewels to his crown. The glorious “The Way It Used to Be” has been sung by audiences at Hump shows worldwide since its release. It is another adaptation of an Italian song. “I’m a Better Man” was a Bacharach/David tune and “Winter World of Love” went to #16 in the US, his highest placing single Stateside since “Release Me”. This excellent tune is a challenge for me owing to my Seasonal Interest Syndrome. The cozy song of course goes best in the winter but its lyrics reference December and – I’m sorry – but I can’t listen to this in December when its all Christmas, all the time.


Official Hump

The dawn of the Seventies saw Engelbert unable to consistently place songs on the charts but his legacy had already been cemented. One of the many things I have learned through my years of diving into the careers of my favourite artists is that – for most – there is a brief period of time in which these artists make their biggest marks and their biggest records on which they can travel throughout the decades. This is certainly the case with Engelbert Humperdinck. Between “Release Me” from February of ’67 to “Winter World of Love” in 1969, Engelbert released 9 singles with all of them – save the fine “I’m a Better Man” – reaching the Top Ten in the UK, two of them topping the charts. In the US, all except “The Way It Used to Be” were Top 40. Also through this run, Humperdinck was a stalwart of the nascent Adult Contemporary listings, a chart tailor made for artists like him.


This, though, may not have been enough to make Engelbert an icon of the music of the era from a collector’s standpoint. But in addition to these great songs – so indicative of an era and a style – Hump made equally characteristic LPs released on Decca in the UK and Parrot Records in North America. Release Me was his debut and peaked in the Top Ten on album charts on both sides of the Atlantic. In addition to the hit title track, it also features the obligatory Antônio Carlos Jobim tune. What stands out about Hump’s take on “Quiet Nights” is it eschews a bossa nova beat and instead employs a groovy sax-loaded chart that makes this a real finger-snapper. He does well on popular songs of the day like “There’s a Kind of Hush” (in fact, he makes this one his own) and “This is My Song” and throws in a couple of great flyers including “Take My Heart” and “Yours Until Tomorrow”. Most versions of the album end with the crowd-pleasing “Ten Guitars”.

Some of my collection. A Man Without Love is on my list of favourite albums by any artist.

The Last Waltz contains the title track and “Am I That Easy to Forget” as well as a take on Stevie Wonder’s “A Place in the Sun” and the dramatic “Two Different Worlds”. And then we have 1968’s A Man Without Love. Here is a record that I would say stands with the very finest albums of this genre from this time. I’d even go so far as to say it is a perfect representation of the uniquely stylish adult contemporary singing of this time. It contains not only great singing but every one of its 12 tracks is identifiable and enchanting in its own way. The title track we have discussed – it is sumptuous – and this is followed by “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and “Spanish Eyes”, two standards of the era. Then comes Francis Lai’s movie song “A Man and a Woman” and Jimmy Webb’s “Up Up and Away” – maybe cornball but endearing. The standard “The Shadow of Your Smile” gives way to Bert Kaempfert’s “Wonderland By Night” and listener favourite “What a Wonderful World”. The lesser-known “Call On Me” follows as does another Webb standard “By the Time I Get to Phoenix”. The penultimate track is the timeless, the perfect, the joyous “Quando, Quando, Quando” and Hump wraps this gem with “From Here to Eternity”. The record is one of the greatest in this idiom and is on my list of favourite albums; its as if they sat down and chose the quintessential songs from the late 1960s, wrapped them in accessible and charming arrangements and gave them to Hump to apply his wonderful tones to. Delightful.

Up next was 1969’s charming Engelbert. This record continued the trend of combining hit singles with excellent album tracks. There is the bouyant “Love Was Here Before the Stars” and the substantial “Let Me Into Your Life” followed by the Top 5 UK tracks “Les Bicyclettes De Belsize” and “The Way It Used to Be”. Next is the fun “Marry Me”, a song written by Hump’s guys Les Reed and Barry Mason and one that Dean Martin would include on his For the Good Times LP of 1971. The set wraps up with another great track, “Good Thing Going”. Following Engelbert is Engelbert Humperdinck, an album who’s title proved too long to put in a straight line on the album cover. This record returns more to the template used on A Man Without Love; well-performed “hits of the day” include “Gentle On My Mind”, “Love Letters”, “A Time for Us”, “Didn’t We” and “Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In”. The twelve tracks are bookended by hit singles “I’m a Better Man” and “Winter World of Love”.


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This quintet of albums, released during 1967, ’68 and ’69, represent the finest of Engelbert Humperdinck. They are also quintessential LPs of vocal music of the era in that they contain not only excellent originals but fine interpretations of the best contemporary adult pop songs of the time. Hump need not have recorded another note and he would have secured a place in the pantheon of great vocalists of the late 1960s alongside the likes of Al Martino, Matt Monro, Jack Jones and Engelbert’s label mate Tom Jones. Humperdinck was able to add a half-dozen more decent records up until 1973 when demand for recordings from singers like Engelbert Humperdinck simply dried up. I’m happy to report that our boy was able to add one more gem to his catalogue when he returned in 1976.


Having left Decca now for Epic Records, Hump released After the Lovin’ in 1976. I have spoken before in these pages of the certain charm of some Seventies pop and easy listening music. That which is ephemeral – distinctly tied to the era – perhaps lacks this charm but other of this music is great to hear – transforms you back – and this album typifies this.

The title track is – dare I say? – perfect. It is perfect for what it is; a lovely, mid-tempo love song finely rendered by Humperdinck. “Can’t Smile Without You” was not the hit for Hump that it was for the Carpenters and for Barry Manilow running almost concurrently with Engelbert’s release. I just love this arrangement, particular when it modulates up for the final chorus. The wildly energetic “Let’s Remember the Good Times” has been classified as “disco”. I don’t know about that but it certainly borrows from the dance music so prevalent in 1977. For the first three songs, at least, this album is flawless.


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The second side features the stellar “This is What You Mean to Me”, a smooth and elegant song, and “I Can’t Live a Dream”, a sonic cousin to “Let’s Remember the Good Times” and the closer is Neil Sedaka and Howard Greenfield’s “The Hungry Years”, a song that is a straight-up contemporary standard. After the Lovin’ is classy, mature pop vocal music from the late 1970s. There may have been no market for it at the time but that doesn’t dull its glow.

A quick word about Humperdinck’s second Christmas record, the enchanting A Merry Christmas with Engelbert Humperdinck (1980). I have fond memories of growing up with this one on cassette and as an adult I searched and found a copy on CD and later scored a near-mint vinyl edition. Warm and sophisticated, incredibly stylish, the album features some great singing.

The 1980s may have been the valley for Engelbert Humperdinck – the lull in a career that many resilient performers are forced to endure. And there are different levels of re-emergence. Humperdinck continued to sing, to perform and to record, moving particularly into standards. By this point, Engelbert had garnered the reputation as the premiere romantic singer with scores of women the world over hailing him as their choice when it came to love songs.

I feel compelled to report on one of the many self-produced albums Engelbert put out in the Nineties. Hello, Out There (1992) Hump made with a team of Germans and recorded with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. I remember finding it in a thrift store and buying it somewhat begrudgingly; I feel I need to own this out of respect but it will no doubt be painful. But I was pleasantly surprised. Though it does contain the synthesizer sound so prevalent at this time, it also features some really fine songs of a high quality. Hump is in good voice on this varied program as he revisits some of his hits and presents songs with adult themes and some refined lyrical content – some of the words written by Hump himself. If you see this one in the wild, don’t be afraid.

By the 1990s, the Lounge Revival was in full…swing and Hump benefited, gaining some visibility and a reassessment. 1995’s Love Unchained charted in the UK as did The Dance Album (1998). Coming way out of left field, he was asked to record the song “Lesbian Seagull” for the soundtrack of – wait for it – Beavis and Butt-head Do America (1996) and later his son took over his career and – like with Bennett and his boy – was steered into “hipper” territory.

In 2000, Hump put out yet another greatest hits compilation but this was a good one. I wish it had’ve been sequenced in the opposite way but the first half of At His Very Best is made up of new recordings while the second is full of all the biggest hits (except “After the Lovin'”). Funny thing; the new songs are quite good. The best is “How to Win Your Love” that starts things off and conjures a mellow mood. Next up is a cosmopolitan and trendy-sounding version of “Strangers in the Night”. Oddly, it really works which tends to confirm my assertion that the only dissatisfying version of this song I’ve heard is Sinatra’s super popular recording. This album works, though it shouldn’t. It’s rare that discerning fans care to have their old favourite songs mixed with new attempts but you could do worse than to start your perusal of Engelbert with this one.

And then I made a movie with Engelbert. In my neck of the woods, there is a casino up the road and my wife and I have made it a point to see many of the artists who appear there, Humperdinck among them. When I first saw him, he was pushing 70 and my expectations were low. Humperdinck still had the pipes, though, and when he returned we saw him again, this time with our folks in tow. Turns out they were shooting a concert video there that time to be called Totally Amazing. We bought the DVD later and, yes, you can spot your humble blogger in the crowd. Then we saw him again a few years later and suddenly we noticed a huge difference. It was all down to a decrease in lung power, I suppose. While singing, his words became clipped and he only went for the big note sporadically and then couldn’t sustain it very long. We also noticed the amount of time he spent chatting with the crowd as opposed to singing. But no matter. He had done enough.

Sad to report that Engelbert Humperdinck lost his beloved wife Patricia in 2021. Together since 1964, Patricia had been the epitome of long-suffering though Engelbert’s infidelities were not – quite – as legion as the accusations were. In 2017, Hump had announced that Patricia had been battling Alzheimer’s for ten years and then she lost the fight four years later, dying after contracting the coronavirus. One couldn’t help but feel for Hump at this time. Coincidentally, Englebert was somewhat aligned here again with his old label mate and nemesis Tom Jones, TJ having lost his beleaguered wife of 50 years in 2016.

During 2024, Engelbert Humperdinck launched what he called “The Last Waltz Farewell Tour” with dates all over the world. At 87 years old, he was then considered a venerable legend of the entertainment world and is still newsworthy for his ability to perform almost 60 years after “Release Me”. And, if you want him to record a video of him wishing you a happy birthday, you can hit him up on Cameo; a Hump greeting will cost you $466 CDN.

Some singers just are. Never mind his crazy handle, Engelbert Humperdinck could flat-out sing. He possessed a powerful voice loaded with character. Perhaps even more than this though he released some very fine albums, particularly his first five, as we have discussed. Later, he was able to do it once again in a totally different era with After the Lovin’ and a great Christmas record and he approached his twilight years with humour, never taking himself too seriously. Known as the last of the truly romantic singers, Engelbert Humperdinck deserves recognition and you owe it to yourself to explore his catalogue.


Ten from Humperdinck

  • Release Me (and Let Me Love Again)
  • Quiet Nights
  • Ten Guitars
  • The Last Waltz
  • A Man Without Love (Quando m’innamoro)
  • Quando, Quando, Quando
  • The Way It Used to Be
  • After the Lovin’
  • Let’s Remember the Good Times
  • How to Win Your Love

Sources

  1. New Zealand Folk Song. Ten Guitars: Gordon Mills, 1957. (2001)

4 comments

  1. I sure remember “Release Me” when it hit. ” I said, “Dad you got to hear this guy!” My guess was Tom Jones yet I knew that wasn’t right. What were the odds of having two powerful voices on the airwaves at the same time?

    • Yes, and it was a time of singers who were struggling to be heard. Though the charts didn’t support them, the records were still fine, they were always visible on television and they were making personal appearances.

      • He was as unique as anyone. Really a powerful voice. However, I do remember shuddering at his big finish to Release Me. After the modulation into a higher key, he overshoots the high note on “So” (S-o-o-o-release me…). It was noticeably sharp. Today that would be pitch-corrected so that everyone sounds perfect. I prefer an actual human.

      • Shuddering as in you were unhappy? I never thought of it as him overshooting. I felt it was an emotional device like Sam Cooke’s yodel. But heck I’ve been listening to Rush this week and I love Tom Waits so what do I know about singing?!

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