Billy Stritch & Nicolas King

Mel Tormé at 100: A Celebration with Billy Stritch and Nicolas King

54 Below, NYC, September 12, 2025

Reviewed by Alix Cohen

Billy Stritch and Nicolas King swing the way the rest of us breathe—naturally, as if informed by DNA. Clearly joined in a mutual admiration society, the two artists brought their polish and prowess to a show of songs favored by one of their idols, Mel Tormé. Stritch additionally sketched in the celebrant’s background and rhythm, harmony, and gusto ruled.

A tandem “Just One of Those Things” (Cole Porter) and “On Green Dolphin Street” (Bronislaw Kaper/Ned Washington) opened the evening. King’s scat-singing was provoked by Jakubu Griffin’s percussion, and Stritch’s vocal and crisp piano swaggered.

“Born to Be Blue” (Mel Tormé/Robert Wells) was “extremely sophisticated to have been penned by a couple of 19-year-olds,” said Stritch. It emerged like savored Jameson Irish Whiskey—smooth and lush. Stritch’s eyes crinkled and closed; his piano leaned towards jazz. “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” (Manning Sherwin/Eric Maschwitz) swayed. The vocals were gauzy, meditative. Stritch looked up to the moon.

King’s brisk “Love for Sale” (Porter) arrived insouciant. The bass acted as ballast, and the drums were fast, light, precise. His entire body was enlisted. He bent forward and then jumped back. His left hand curled as his fingers rose and fell while his right hand played the microphone. “Too Close for Comfort” (Jerry Bock/Larry Holofcener/George Weiss) was, as performed here, a ballad with bounce. King’s scat was round-edged; rarely does one hear such a smorgasbord of scat styles.

The unexpected counterpoint of “Honeysuckle Rose” (Fats Waller/Andy Razaf) and “The Nearness of You” (Hoagy Carmichael/Ned Washington) began a “Two-Tune Medley,” originally arranged and recorded by Tormé with Cleo Laine. The medley was, in fact, an excerpt from 16 songs. Its flow was lovely and seamless.

Stritch’s anecdote about opening for the honoree when he was in the group Montgomery, Plant, and Stritch introduced Tormé’s jaunty arrangement of “Mountain Greenery” (Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart). Stritch admitted that he first heard the song “performed by Rob and Laura Petrie (The Dick Van Dyke Show) in their living room.” “Zab a deep bop ba do bad ah,” he happily scatted. “I’ve been singing that song since I was 17,” he told us.

One of King’s favorites, “The Folks Who Live on the Hill” (Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein II), wafted in unhurried. The vocalist palpably visualized. It was just lovely. His former music director of 14 years, Mike Renzi, had also accompanied Tormé. Renzi suggested that King try the Jerome Kern/Dorothy Fields “Pick Yourself Up” from the film Swingtime. King played both the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers roles. He insisted on learning the original scat vocal sound-for-sound, note-for-note. At the piano, a classical overlay was manifested by Stritch. Chair dancing could be observed.

Also a longtime collaborator with Tormé, consummate bassist Jay Leonhart recalled, “It was great fun; Marty’s (the club) was this little 120 seat room.” He described walking out to praise on both sides of the room until he entered the adjacent restaurant—then, silence. “He was brilliant. I miss him dearly,” he remarked.

Stritch sighed into an evocative “When the World Was Young” (Philippe-Gérard/Angèle Vanniet/Johnny Mercer). His silky ease was wistful. A “Moon Medley” concocted by Stritch and King touched familiar bases with brio. “Lulu’s Back in Town,” one of Tormé’s signature numbers, closed the show with breezy sophistication; the duo’s musicianship was superb.

Mel Tormé, dubbed “The Velvet Fog” for his smooth, mellifluous voice, was a prodigious jazz vocalist, composer, arranger, songwriter, expert drummer, and author whose career spanned nearly seven decades. Born in Chicago in 1925, he began performing professionally at age four, supporting his family during the Depression. He quickly became a fixture in radio, film, and big band music.