The irony about Steve 
  Lawrence and Eydie Gorme is that two of the youngest of the major interpreters 
  (they're both about the same generation as Elvis Presley) 
  of the Great American Songbook have the hardest time being accepted by contemporary 
  audiences. Lately, it's become somewhat modish for younger listeners to admit 
  they like Ella Fitzgerald or Peggy Lee - but will a rock star go to bat for 
  Steve and Eydie, the way Bono did for Frank Sinatra? Or will they make it onto 
  MTV, as Tony Bennett did? Not likely. 
 Yet they are more than 
  adequately supported by their own generation - when they played Westbury, Long 
  Island, two weeks ago, for four nights, there wasn't an empty seat anywhere. 
  What's more, Mr. Lawrence has just released his first new album in many years, 
  "Steve Lawrence Sings Sinatra" (GL Music) and 
  approximately two dozen CDs of the couple's music have been reissued in the 
  millennial era. 
 So let me say this plainly: 
  Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme are among the great treasures of American showbiz 
  and pop music. They are great entertainers and 
  great musicians. Their act contains more firstrate songs, sung better, than 
  any cabaret room in New York. In terms of musical content, they are endowed 
  with more harmonic and melodic invention - not to mention sheer swing - than 
  most of the city's jazz joints. And they are funnier than any act I've ever 
  heard in a comedy club. 
 An evening with Steve 
  and Eydie (the "ladies first" rule doesn't apply in entertainment, 
  i.e., Louis & Keely, Burns & Allen, Nichols & May) is less like 
  a concert in 
  the traditional sense of the term than a variety show out of the golden age 
  of television - they were in, fact, the only great singers to emerge out of 
  that medium - you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll kiss whatever reservations you 
  may have goodbye. 
 Steve Lawrence, 67, and 
  Eydie Gorme, 70, started working together about 50 years ago on the original 
  "Tonight Show" under Steve Allen, were married 45 years 
  ago ("How long you married," someone in the crowd asked. "Six 
  inches," was Mr. Lawrence's instantaneous reply), and became a full-time, 
  showbiz team in 1960. They have announced that their current tour, which they 
  have titled "One More for the Road," will be their last. This means 
  that while they probably will do an occasional concert in one of the bigger 
  cities, this is their final schlep across America. 
When the twosome make their entrance, the first thing you notice is how little they've aged: at their peak, they had two of the finest vocal instruments in American pop. Ms. Gorme has grown a little stouter ("Baby, you're the only investment I ever had that doubled," Mr. Lawrence quipped), and her chops at first betray a degree of deterioration, which itself deteriorates as the evening progresses.
 Ms. Gorme's specialty 
  is big, romantic ballads, particularly those from 1960s Broadway shows: "What 
  Did I Have That I Don't Have" ("On a Clear Day") or 
  "If He Walked Into My Life" ("Mame"). She instills them 
  with a sincerity and subtlety that make Barbra Streisand seem like an overbaked 
  wannabe by comparison. Mr. Lawrence's thing is swingers, and he possesses the 
  musical knowhow as well as the chops to sing musically dazzling contrapuntal 
  lines around his wife while she lays out the basic melody. 
 One major highlight of 
  the act is a performance piece that is essentially a medley of "Fly Me 
  to the Moon" and "Fly Me to the Moon." She begins by singing 
  it straight and beautiful, starting with the verse, the way songwriter Bart 
  Howard first conceived the song, as an intimate ballad (there's a fine recording 
  on "Eydie in Love").
  Then he comes in, and swings the holy heck out of it courtesy of the famous 
  Sinatra-Basie arrangement. 
 Mr. Lawrence himself sounds 
  even stronger on his new album, "Steve Lawrence Sings Sinatra" (produced 
  by the couple's son, David Lawrence) than he does in person, going from low 
  to high notes effortlessly, and holding them like he has all the lung power 
  in the world. It's somewhat disappointing, however, that Mr. 
  Lawrence has elected to replicate the classic original Sinatra arrangements 
  rather than commissioning new ones. Even though he never stoops to parroting 
  Sinatra's exact vocal lines, Mr. Lawrence is a superlative vocal artist in his 
  own right, and he doesn't need to confine himself within the great man's shadow. 
  
 Though Mr. Lawrence and 
  Ms. Gorme are two of Sinatra's foremost disciples, they should never be mistaken 
  - especially by themselves - for mere imitators. 
  They're principally regarded as two Jewish kids from the Bronx (her family was 
  Turkish and Sephardic, his father was a cantor), but where other Jewish singers 
  have been either exclusively swinging (Mel Torme) or schmaltzy (Eddie Fisher), 
  only the Lawrences are both at the same time. Their backgrounds in different 
  fields - her with the big bands (principally Tex Beneke) and in a parallel incarnation 
  as a Spanish language recording star, him with an early career as a rock-era 
  teen idol (like Johnny Mathis or Fabian), both of them on Broadway ("What 
  Makes Sammy Run," "Golden Rainbow"). Their influences and their 
  experiences give their work 
  a sense of dimension and texture. 
 Happily, many of the team's 
  best recordings are back in print. Of the Lawrence-Gorme classic albums now 
  available - mostly through what they call the "yenta-net," their own 
  steveandeydie.com and collectorschoice.com - at least three are absolutely essential: 
  first, a twofer CD of a pair of Ms. Gorme's best ballad albums, 
  "Softly as I Leave You / Don't Go To Strangers." Here on these laments 
  to lost love, her theatrical-style belting is offset by a rare vulnerability. 
  Hers is the best combination of pure power and sublime sensitivity since Judy 
  Garland. 
 Mr. Lawrence's strongest 
  solo album is "Academy Award Losers," now expanded with six bonus 
  cuts. Abetted by the equally jazzy and witty Billy May, Mr. Lawrence is loose, 
  swinging, and inventive, proving that he could compete with Torme, Joe Williams 
  or any other major jazz singer. And I can't imagine anyone else who would climax 
  a super-uptempo rendition of "I'll Remember April" with an imitation 
  of Senor Wences. Of the couple's many fine duet albums, go for the show-tunes 
  twofer, "Two on the Aisles / Together on Broadway," which climaxes 
  in a treatment of "Sunrise, Sunset" so compelling that it could induce 
  Jesse Jackson 
  to order Manishevitz.