I DON'T NEED NO SYNCING LIPS
It’s obvious that I got out of showbiz in the nick of time. If I had continued, I might have overdosed on drugs and alcohol, or been mobbed and beaten by fans, or even put in some Russian gulag and shot to death.
Overdosed on drugs?
NEWS RELEASE; Rob Pilatus, a former model whose career as half the pop music duo Milli Vanilli crashed in disgrace after it was revealed that the group lip-synced its songs, died at 32. Mr. Pilatus was alone when he died in a Frankfurt hotel room after consuming alcohol and pills.
Mobbed by irate fans?
NEWS RELEASE: When the audience discovered that Pop singer Ashlee Simpson was lip-synching her song on "Saturday Night Live," she rushed off the stage in total embarrassment. Her fans were outraged.
Arrested and shot?
NEWS RELEASE: The president of Turkmenistan, Saparmurat Niyazov, ordered a ban on lip-synching in his country, citing its “negative effect on the development of singing and musical art.” Under the order, lip-synching is to be banned on television, at all cultural events and even at private parties.
In 1959, I was host of a daily television show called, “The Lloyd Thaxton Record Shop.” It was on KCOP in Los Angeles for one hour a day at 11:00 AM. I sat behind a cardboard counter in front of a little cheesy set made to look like a shelf for record albums. I talked, played records and interviewed a music guest each day while plugging their latest records or albums. The guests did not perform. So what did I do while the record played?
Before I answer that, let me tell you tell you the whole story and why I am still shaking.
One day my guest was the great songwriter Jimmy McHugh (I'm in The Mood For Love, Couldn't Sleep A Wink Last Night, etc). He was there to plug a new album of Frank Sinatra songs, all of which he had written. With him in the studio was his good friend and constant companion, the famous Hollywood columnist Louella Parsons. Get just one mention in Louella's column and you had it made in Hollywood.
In the interview Jimmy McHugh and I talked about a special Sinatra number. Then I got up and went to another little cheesy set off to the side and lip-synced the record (Oh that’s what you did when the record was playing). There was no regular studio audience and Louella Parsons was the only person sitting in the studio watching the show. I finished the number, went back to the counter to thank and say good-bye to McHugh. It was just another day at the Lloyd Thaxton Record Shop.
You can imagine my surprise (and horror) when I read the next morning’s newspaper. There it was, right at the top of Louella Parson’s column: “Yesterday I had the pleasure to see and hear a brand new singer in town. Remember his name: Lloyd Thaxton. I guarantee that this young man is going to be a big star. He sounds just like Frank Sinatra.”
When you also take into consideration The Lloyd Thaxton Show, I repeated that act everyday for over nine years (although I sometimes sounded more like Johnny Rivers or James Brown). If anyone had ever found out the truth, I can’t imagine what might have happened to me.