Music: Sinatra with Blood

"The bill at the Palladium ... is truly remarkable," said the London Times, with fine irony. "It is headed, not by an American but by a British performer!" "This time, for a change," echoed the Daily Mail, "it was not a Hollywood star who had the fans in a frenzy. It was an ex-painter's laborer from South Wales." Last week, after ten straight months of raising the roof over the U.S.'s Tony Martin, Frank Sinatra, et al., London's fickle fans were going wild over a crooner of their own.

On opening night, a crush of bobby-soxers whisked the bow-tie off 42-year-old "Cavalier of Song" Donald Peers before he could get in the stage door. Inside, the hullaballoo swelled to Sinatran size, even though, noted one London reviewer, stocky, ruddy-faced Crooner Peers "makes no undernourished appeal to the maternal instinct." From the minute he first let them have it—In a Shady Nook, It's a Hap-Hap-Happy Day—in a jolly and effervescent baritone, "like an uncle at a children's party," the fans couldn't get enough of Britain's "Sinatra with blood." By his own stop watch, Welshman Peers bested Sinatra's onstage record of 35 minutes by 50 seconds.

Handsome Donald Peers, whose happy songs have long been a BBC mainstay, had waited 23 years for his chance to top the bill at the Palladium.

A natural, untrained singer, like most of his fellow crooners, Peers won an audition with the BBC in 1927, but didn't really hit the big time until 1949, when BBC let him do his stuff in front of a live audience.

Now he likes to think the secret of his success is "sincerity." It is more probably showmanship. An old trouper, he singles out two or three people in the audience who are obviously sympathetic, and sings directly to them. Says he: "They feel pleased and the feeling spreads."

Was it hard to follow Frank Sinatra? Smiled Crooner Peers: "I'm not answering that. There should be room for both of us." Concluded London's Daily Express staunchly: "There is."