Burlington man has got Frank under his skin
Ol’ Blue Eyes he’s not. But Dan wins top Sinatra title by doing it his way
Dan Lauzon takes us downstairs, into the sanctum of his Frank Sinatra Room, replete with posters on the wall, mounted gold records, a coffee table stacked with biographies and commemorative magazines.
There’s a brick on the desk from the old house where Sinatra grew up. In Hoboken, N.J., 415 Monroe St.
Dan paid $100 for that brick.
Dan’s phone goes off as we talk. The ringtone? Dat dat, da da da; dat dat, da da da. “New York, New York.” Of course.
I’m fond of Ol’ Blue Eyes myself, but I don’t have a room devoted to him, not even a closet.
So is Dan, like, some kind of super fan?
It’s more serious than that. Can I be frank with you? No I can’t. But Dan can. He’s been Frank with thousands of people since he broke out as a Frank Sinatra tribute artist about six years ago.
This summer — in case you’re wondering just how good he is at being Frank — Dan won the Sinatra Idol Contest 2018 in Hoboken. It’s the
first time in the event’s 12-year history that a Canadian has won, and he was up against tribute artists from all over the world.
That was June 14. He was too nervous to watch the other performers. “I didn’t want to psych myself out,” he tells me. He was last up.
“I was terrified,” he confesses about approaching the mike. “But then I always am.”
There’s a picture of Dan at the contest — in a tux, bow tie, classic Frank, singing in Sinatra Park on the banks of the Hudson River in Hoboken. Looming behind him, in the distance across the water, is the familiar architectural polygraph of the New York City skyline at night, sequins of light on a spectrum of charcoal; as though Manhattan had stopped everything it was doing to have a listen.
If he could make it there ... He sang “That’s Life.” “That’s life (that’s life) I tell ya, I can’t deny it/I thought of quitting, baby,/But my heart just ain’t gonna buy it.”
There are six judges at the Sinatra Idol contest — this year, a former New York Times music writer; a bandleader; the director of the Hoboken Historical Museum; and others with intimidating qualifications. They have rigorously high standards.
Just to be there is an achievement.
“You have to apply (months in advance), send a bio, pics, a performance video and a list of five songs (from which they pick one),” says Dan.
From the many, many submissions they get, contest organizers let only 15, max, through to the actual showdown — which happens all in one night, starting at 6:30 p.m.
Dan was terrified. And this is a guy who has worked in the mines, who served in Desert Storm and as a paratrooper in Somalia with the Third Commando Airborne.
He’s slept in a tent on winter exercises up north in -50 temperatures. “I didn’t do much sleeping,” he says.
This night, June 14, Dan left nothing in the tank. And it wasn’t just the song or the voice. He was being judged on mannerism, tonality, pitch, selling the emotion, overall dress and appearance, delivery.
And? Twenty-nine. That’s what he got. Twenty-nine. Out of a possible 30 points. He won.
The consummation of a lifetime dedicated to perfecting that style, right? Hardly.
If Dan had run into Frank Sinatra on the street when the Chairman of the Board was alive he wouldn’t have asked for his autograph. Because he wouldn’t even have recognized him.
He grew up in Timmins, singing from an early age, but in rock bands doing Eagles and Doobie Brothers covers.
“Until six years ago I’d virtually never heard of Frank Sinatra,” says Dan. He thought of “My Way” as an Elvis song.
What happened was his friend Jim Farrauto, an already-established Dean Martin tribute artist, heard Dan sing and knew he’d be good at Sinatra.
They took part in a karaoke contest together. A promoter saw it, loved it, booked some shows and things took off.
Since then, Dan has performed everywhere — from the casinos, the Old Mill in Toronto, Sunnybrook and Collingwood to the Casa Loma, with the backing of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.
He often performs with the Vegas North Orchestra behind him, Anthony Rice conductor.
In his Sinatra Room, he sings alone, a cappella, for me and a videographer.
He’s sitting down, no props, and from a dead start he explodes into “That’s Life.” In three bars, he’s got me shivering. Watch the video on our website. I can see how he won.