With a song on the soundtrack of 'Kill Bill' and a new album out soon, 64-year-old Nancy Sinatra is back in action, writes Tony Clayton-Lea.
Sinatra - the surname alone is enough to make one sit back and gawk. The recognition factor is skyscraper-high. When Shane MacGowan sang "Sinatra was swinging" in The Pogues' Fairytale of New York, we all knew who he meant, didn't we? The eldest daughter of Frank Sinatra - who, along with Elvis Presley and The Beatles, changed the face of popular music in the 20th century - is 64 years of age, yet Nancy is up for the challenge of becoming as well-known now as she was in the 1960s. It might never happen, of course, but at very least she's giving it a go.
"I'm a survivor and a fighter," she says from her Hollywood home; she's quiet-spoken but firm in her velvet-gloved defiance, "so it's a little more than just acceptance of a given situation. You don't just stop pursuing your dreams because someone says you're too old to do it. You have to keep going; I see little point in struggling just because the world is full of younger people." Born in 1940 in New Jersey, Nancy was the American nation's favourite by the time she reached the age of 4. Her father had recorded the Phil Silvers/Jimmy Van Heuson composition, Nancy (With the Laughing Face), and that song - coupled with her father's occasionally priceless recording legacy - followed her like a trained household pet into the Swinging Sixties until she hooked up with songwriter Lee Hazlewood.
The mid-1960s period was Nancy's for the taking, which she most certainly did.
Allied to her songwriting partnership with Hazlewood were her image (Bardot/Fonda-like hissing sex kitten with go-go boots and mini skirts) and her songs (Sugartown, Jackson, Some Velvet Morning, You Only Live Twice, her signature tune, These Boots Are Made For Walkin', Did You Ever? and Something Stupid, a duet with her father). Come the 1970s, Nancy's pop career shrivelled up. She returned in the mid-1990s with a new record and an eyebrow-raising six-page feature spread in Playboy. That aside, she's been generally quite a low-key former pop star, her profile kept afloat as much by the memories of her original 1960s fans, a certain kitsch value afforded her by latter-day hipsters and a growing awareness of the excellence of much of her 1960s output.
Yet life, she remarks, is wonderful. Her career was put on hold in the 1980s, she says, in order to look after her two children, but come the mid-1990s she was back, if not with a bang, then with a mission. "When you step away from the music business the sand fills in over you very quickly. Breaking back into it is very difficult, especially at my age because this is a business that just really revolves around youth. But I'm not complaining, because this is what I love to do and people seem to enjoy what I do."
She's on a bit of a roll at the moment, too. A forthcoming album, To Nancy, With Love, is scheduled for release in August. Themed around songs by writers and singers who have made it known they were influenced by her music across the decades, the album features material written by Bono/Edge (Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad, originally written for her father), Morrissey (Let Me Kiss You, the new single out soon), Pete Yorn (Don't Mean Nothin') and Elvis Costello (Comin' Home Baby). Like Marianne Faithfull before her, Nancy is getting a cultural makeover treatment; she's associating with younger men and watching the average age of her fanbase decrease.
She comes across as being a switched-on 64-year-old, with no airs or graces as to her position in the pop star firmament. She says she sees her future in residency cabaret, which seems eminently sensible for a person of her position and age. As for all these famous people that have written songs for her album - well, Bono is one of her heroes: "I admire Bono so much for all the work he does in the world, and for his poetry and passion. To have the opportunity to perform one of his songs - even though it was written for my father - is really a privilege and a thrill." And Morrissey (who himself has made the comeback of the year), had she heard of him before he became a close LA neighbour some years back? "I had two teenage daughters at the time of The Smiths, so that band's music permeated our house. My knowledge of them surprised him when he came to my hotel in London in the mid-1990s to say hello. He was pleased that I knew his music, and we've been friends ever since. It started as a mutual appreciation thing, but now I know him much better. I value and treasure his friendship; he's one of the kindest people I've ever known. And his new album is fantastic - The World is Full of Crashing Bores! What a song!"
Of course, Nancy's life as a cult item and everything else associated with her career has been overshadowed by the fame and notoriety of her father. She says her life, as the daughter of one of the most famous popular artists of the 20th century, has been more a joy than a burden. And, indeed, a responsibility.
"Since he's gone, we - my brother, sister and I - have even more of a responsibility in keeping the flame of his memory and music alive. It's our job to keep the truth and the legacy out there, which is why I run the Sinatra website ."
Nancy says she's always around to answer questions from visitors and to correct erroneous media reports. "We're in charge of his name and likeness, which are trademarked. It's a major responsibility, as it was when he was alive. We're basically protecting him."
From what? "From what a friend of mine calls the 50-Year Smear."
Bang go the Mafia and Marilyn Monroe questions then.
Privacy is rarely an issue, it seems. "Was it difficult finding a private life? Not at all. The only time it's surprising is when you walk out of your hotel, looking like a slob, and there are photographers there. Then you think, oh no! Otherwise, it's not a problem." Aside from that of her fans, does she have any idea of what the public perception of her might be? Like Marianne Faithfull before her, she has a connection with a musical force greater and somewhat more mythical than her own, yet she also has the singularity of purpose not to fade into the background.
"I have a lot of fans that would go to the wall fighting for my music and my own legacy," she contends. "On the other hand, here's my epitaph - 'Sinatra's daughter, the girl who died with her boots on'.
"Those are the two things that most people know about me: the Boots Are Made For Walkin' song and Frank being my father. They are ingrained in people - along with the mini skirts! That's about it for the image." The people who care to learn and who come to the shows, she imparts, are generally pleased and surprised with the outcome. "I'm gaining fans by touring. I know I'm a bit late doing that, but I'm going to keep doing it until I fall down."
Nancy Sinatra plays Dublin's Vicar Street on Friday, June 18th. Her new album, To Nancy, With Love, will be released through Sanctuary/BMG in August