Next up was the Christmas Carols album of May, 1959. Frankly, this recording does nothing for Lanza's reputation, especially when listened alongside his earlier collection of Christmas favourites.  Accurately dubbed "dour and depressing" by Lindsay Perigo in one of his reviews, "O Christmas Tree" is perhaps the album's only highlight. Lanza had suffered his first heart attack the previous month, and was understandably downbeat at these sessions. Years later, the conductor Paul Baron would insist to me that Mario did not wish to make this recording. Whatever the truth, the album should have been quietly shelved.

Caruso Favorites

On a much happier note, the aforementioned Caruso Favorites album of June 1959 features Lanza in fine form. As with all the 1959 recordings, however, the reproduction of Lanza's voice (though curiously not the orchestra) on BMG's LP and CDs is far from ideal, and the ever-present distortion mars some of the best moments. Gripes aside, this is an important album in the Lanza canon. Among the highlights are the Neapolitan song "Senza Nisciuno;" a tasteful "Vaghissima Sembianza," replete with two beautiful High As; the supremely daunting "Serenata," with its repeated As and even a high B; and three exquisite Tosti songs: "L'Alba Separa Dalla Luce L'Ombra," "Pour Un Baiser"  and "Ideale."

My only regret is that the sound quality mars the climactic moment that comes shortly afterwards on the middle syllable of the word "eterno." I used to think that Lanza was in trouble on this note (a B-flat), but a closer listening on headphones reveals that the fault lies with the actual recording. (Admittedly, however, it's not one of his greatest B-flats.) If one can overlook the distortion and "boxed-in" sound quality, "L'Alba Separa" emerges as an impressive piece of singing, and a wonderful example of Lanza's artistic maturity. 

Among the few lesser moments, "Lolita" features a lack-lustre Lanza and Santa Lucia" is subjected to a boisterous arrangement that sounds more like a march than a lilting ode to the Bay of Naples. Elsewhere on the album, there is, at times, a slight harshness (or "rasp") in Lanza's voice, and, as one perceptive reviewer has noted, we miss the characteristic smile of his earlier singing. This is a heavier voice than the one heard on the Mario! album, and it reflects the decline in his health in the intervening six months. Nevertheless, this is, above all, intelligent, sensitive singing. For those who complain that Lanza was a belter and a stylistic ruffian, the reflective "Ideale" should be required listening, with the tenor eschewing even the optional high note, and, in comparison with almost every other recorded version by anybody, singing the quiet ending exactly as written ("quasi parlante"—or "almost spoken").  

The Final Albums

After Caruso Favorites, Mario returned to operetta for his two final albums, The Vagabond King and The Desert Song, recorded in July and August, respectively.  The voice is still intact; one only needs to hear the brilliant high As in "Love Me Tonight," or the tenor's handling of the demanding tessitura in "One Flower Grows Alone In Your Garden" for proof of that. And yet there is an overwhelming sadness in hearing the obviously ailing tenor battling to deliver the vocal goods. I've often wished that RCA had opted for a "best of" collection on a single disc from these albums, rather than posthumously exposing the sad reality that Lanza was clearly exhausted on his final two projects.  

"For if I die, as I hope to die/ Then I'll never be sober again, not I!" are the prophetic words that Mario sings in the latter, as he gleefully anticipates the dual delights of a buxom wench and an ocean of wine. I'm comforted by both recordings. For amid those sad final sessions of 1959, the "Drinking Song" and "One Alone" reinforce the sense that Lanza—at his happiest, a joyous celebrant of life--remained essentially the same romantic tenor of yore until the very end.