It’s late, the kind of midnight hour where the city outside softens to a watercolor blur, and the only true color left is the indigo glow from a single lamp. I remember settling into a deep leather chair, the ritual of cueing up an album that promised both comfort and sophistication. This was the scene, years ago, when I first truly heard Johnny Mathis’s rendition of “Unforgettable.” It wasn’t a casual stream; it was a deliberate act of listening, a dedication of focus that the man’s artistry demands. The familiar, tender melody washed over me, not as a standard covered a thousand times, but as a fresh, intimate conversation carried on a velvet current.
This particular piece of music belongs to the 1983 album, Unforgettable: A Musical Tribute to Nat King Cole. By the early 1980s, Johnny Mathis was already a titan, a figure of enduring success whose career, primarily anchored at Columbia Records since the mid-1950s (barring a brief mid-60s detour to Mercury), had gracefully navigated decades of seismic shifts in popular music. While the disco era briefly tugged at his stylistic moorings, this tribute album signaled a return to the opulent, classic arrangements that had made him the “Voice of Romance.” It was a smart, career-defining move that reaffirmed his position as the premier male balladeer in an increasingly synthetic musical landscape. The arranger credited for this specific recording of “Unforgettable” is Allyn Ferguson, whose touch here is less about reinvention and more about elevating the source material with judicious warmth.
The sound that emerges from the first notes is nothing short of cinematic. It begins with a deep, resonant piano chord, a foundational thrum in the low register that immediately establishes a mood of reflective gravity. This is swiftly joined by the rhythm section—a bass line so smooth it barely registers as separate notes, more like a continuous sonic underpinning, and drums that employ brushes with delicate precision, providing texture rather than percussive drive.
The arrangement is a masterclass in dynamic control. Ferguson, or perhaps Mathis’s own production sensibilities through Jon Mat Records, Inc., ensures that the string section is not merely backdrop but an active participant. Violins swell in luxurious, long phrases, but never once do they overpower the vocal. They provide a high-gloss finish, a rich, shimmering texture that makes the air around Mathis’s voice feel charged with emotion. One can almost feel the room ambience, a controlled, non-splashy reverb that gives his voice body without sacrificing clarity. This track, unlike many others from the era, is mixed with an open, airy feel that sounds sublime even over modest home audio equipment—a testament to a meticulous sound engineer.
Then, there is the voice itself. Mathis is known for his signature, agile tenor—pure, light, and capable of breathtaking sustain. On “Unforgettable,” he chooses not to flaunt the legendary three-octave range, but instead deploys restraint as his most powerful instrument. His phrasing is immaculate, lingering on vowels just long enough to draw out their melancholic resonance before moving with a clean, almost startling precision to the next consonant.
He delivers the lyric “Unforgettable, that’s what you are” not as a declaration to the world, but as a secret whispered into a lover’s ear. There is a delicate, controlled vibrato at the end of key lines, a gentle flutter that keeps the tone warm and alive, avoiding any hint of the operatic stiffness his classical training might have allowed. This is the sound of practiced perfection, a voice that has mastered the art of conveying profound feeling through sheer technical control. The acoustic guitar, for instance, makes a rare but significant appearance in the bridge, offering a small, plucked counter-melody that breaks the orchestral sweep with a moment of grounded intimacy, like a sudden flash of a tangible memory amidst a dream.
The enduring power of a recording like this lies in its contrast. The composition itself is simple, a classic Tin Pan Alley structure by Irving Gordon. The words are direct, almost childlike in their simplicity: “Unforgettable, in every way / And forevermore, that’s how you’ll stay.” Yet, Mathis, with the full weight of a sweeping, mature orchestra behind him, manages to make this simplicity feel monumental. It’s the contrast between the unvarnished truth of the lyric and the extravagant frame in which it is set.
” “The truth of the classic pop standard rests in its ability to simultaneously evoke a private memory and a shared, grand emotion.” ”
This rendition of “Unforgettable” is a lesson in interpretation. It is an acknowledgment of Nat King Cole’s definitive recording while simultaneously etching out its own, distinct space. Cole’s original was often drier, more intimate, relying heavily on his easy, jazz-inflected phrasing. Mathis, thirty years later, offers a vision more spacious, more consciously romantic in the grand tradition. The sheet music for this standard has been interpreted in countless ways, but Mathis approaches it with the respect of a master craftsman, adding filigree to a strong foundation rather than rebuilding the entire structure.
Consider the role of the album in Mathis’s career. By the 1980s, the music industry was obsessed with synthesizers, drum machines, and aggressive new wave sounds. To release an album devoted entirely to orchestrally-backed standards was a bold, almost counter-cultural statement. It was a clear signal to his core audience, and indeed to new listeners weary of the decade’s electronic clangor, that quality, timeless melody, and a truly magnificent voice would always have a place. It’s a sonic sanctuary from the noise.
Think of a listener today, perhaps discovering this track through an obscure jazz playlist. They might be struck by the sheer lack of haste. The song breathes. The dynamic shifts are slow, deliberate, building to a cathartic, brief swell near the climax before receding into a quiet conclusion. The song isn’t trying to rush to the next chorus or jolt the listener with a sudden sonic surprise; it unfolds like a treasured photograph being slowly unveiled. That dedication to the moment is rare in modern music.
This album stands as a cornerstone of Mathis’s late-career phase with Columbia, proving that the appeal of the Great American Songbook, delivered by an artist of his caliber, is indeed endless. The work reminds us that a popular singer can also be an architect of deep, shared emotion, capable of making a well-worn path feel new again. The piano, the strings, the immaculate microphone technique—it all serves the story, making “Unforgettable” a truly indelible experience.
Listening Recommendations
- “Misty” – Johnny Mathis (1959): Shares the same sublime vocal control and lush, string-forward arrangement style from his Columbia prime.
- “Chances Are” – Johnny Mathis (1957): Another signature ballad with that signature youthful, pure-toned vocal and dramatic orchestral backing.
- “The Very Thought of You” – Nat King Cole (1958): For the source of the smooth, elegant crooning tradition that Mathis so deeply revered and continued.
- “Fly Me to the Moon” – Frank Sinatra (Count Basie Orchestra version, 1964): Offers a contrast in vocal style—more swing and grit—but the same dedication to classic big-band era arrangement quality.
- “A Certain Smile” – Johnny Mathis (1958): A perfect example of Mathis’s ability to blend cinematic scope with deep vocal intimacy.
- “Theme from ‘New York, New York'” – Tony Bennett (1979): Shows a contemporary classic vocalist also diving deep into the American Songbook during the same era, focused on emotional resonance.