Considering that Ol' Blue Eyes said that in a 1965 Life magazine interview, when Bennett was a mere lad of 39, the thought today might be "That was then, this is now.''
Sinatra repeated the claim in a taped introduction of Bennett before a packed Connor Palace Saturday night that proved Tony Bennett is STILL the best singer in the world.
Bennett is 88 years old. You might think that the octogenarian quiver might have started in. You would be wrong. His voice is strong and pure, with a sweet but not overdone vibrato and more sustain than a church organ on steroids.
Yeah, he shied away from some of the soaring high notes to finish songs, and there were a few times when his gift for scatting just might've been a cover for a forgotten lyric or two.
Don't care. This was one of THE best concerts of 2014.
With his career, and at his age, Bennett could've phoned in his performance and really, no one either would have begrudged him that or thought less of him. I know it sounds callous and maybe a little unfair, but I wouldn't be surprised if some people were in the audience because they wanted to make sure they could cross "seeing Tony Bennett before he dies'' of a bucket list.
But what we got was a legendary performance FROM a legend. For just a shade less than two hours, he and a crack quartet of pianist Mike Renzi, guitarist Gary Sargent, upright bassist Marshall Wood and stellar drummer Harold Jones took us on a page-by-page tour of the Great American Songbook.
Moreover, he let each of those musicians – and they are four of the best I've ever heard – have numerous turns in the spotlight. In our pre-concert interview, he told me he and that jazz combo are a team onstage.
"It's not just a matter of accompanying me for the whole performance,'' he said. "I step away and give [the stage] to them.''
And he's a good dad, too. Daughter Antonia Bennett served as his opener.
Gifted and unselfish. What's not to like?
He also does old-school songs with an old-school ethic and style. Every syllable of every word was clearly enunciated. So often today, singers give you half the word, which to my way of thinking is either sloppiness or laziness. I can't tell you how many times I've gone to shows and heard songs that I THOUGHT I knew, but could be sure because the vocals were so unclear.
The best part is that Bennett doesn't just sing songs. He takes tunes like "Watch What Happens,'' "They All Laughed,'' "I Got Rhythm,'' "The Way You Look Tonight,'' "Just in Time,'' "For Once in My Life,'' "I'm Old Fashioned'' and turns them into a comfy Snuggie of nostalgia.
Plus the stinker still has a few tricks up his sleeves that taught me I shouldn't question the master.
You see, when he slid into his signature song, "I Left My Heart in San Francisco,'' at song No. 20 in the set, by my reckoning, I thought, "Well, gee! Why's he doing that one now? Is he done?''
As you might expect, he nailed it, and received his first standing ovation of the night.
Note: First. Every song after that ended with an standing O, but none longer and more deserved than his finale: "Fly Me to the Moon.''
You see, he made the trip – and took us along with him – with his microphone sitting on top of Renzi's baby grand.
Let me tell you, the Moon is lovely this time of year.
