Barry Manilow

Tempting though it would be to tweak reformed Halo of Flies fans for going gaga over Tony Bennett, the wily codger's as prudent as ever about deploying his lovingly preserved pipes. Trevor Horn's Tom Jones joke travesties an artist who's always clocked dollars making fun of himself. But this guy's got a nerve. It's less ghoulish than some "Unforgettable"-style computer nightmare in which Barry magically replaces Martha Tilton or Tex Beneke on classic swing records, but it's also worse--swing as '50s television music, stupefying chestnuts (three each from Sinatra and the Andrews Sisters, what taste), backed by recreated or reconceived live big band arrangements (sometimes from the original bands, whatever that can mean after 50 years, more often from "the Big Band Orchestra"). Fronted, of course, by Manilow's uncompromisingly inoffensive voice--a voice that never hints at sex or history or even chops. Incomprehensible Press Quote: "'I've found a funkiness and intelligence in the music that will last forever. Hopefully, everyone can feel the honesty and grit on the album that will remind us of what a hip era this was.'" (Grade: C)