Singing With Shirley Bassey
Shirley Bassey whose birthday is today – Happy Birthday BTW – has performed (and laughed) with a myriad of male, female and even animal artists of all genres. We have selected twelve of them.
They are Andy Williams, Lulu, Propellerheads, Engelbert Humperdinck, Eydie Gorme, Neil Diamond, Freddie Starr, Jimmy Durante, Les Dawson, Bill Bailey, Noel Harrison, The Muppets
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
WATCH IN FULL
Tracklist
1 . Andy Williams – MedleyShirley Bassey and Andy Williams share a memorable moment of musical camaraderie on *The Andy Williams Show* in 1966, showcasing their exceptional chemistry and mutual love for timeless melodies. In the episode, they engage in a lighthearted discussion about music, agreeing that a great melody is something that “makes you want to sing and feel good.” This playful exchange sets the stage for a vibrant medley performance that highlights their distinct styles and shared artistry. Together, they deliver renditions of classics like “I Hear Music,” “Sitting on Top of the World,” and “The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Music.” Their voices intertwine effortlessly, creating a dynamic and joyful experience for the audience. The performance is a testament to their ability to elevate even the most familiar tunes with their charisma and vocal prowess. Their on-screen rapport and the mutual respect they display make this medley a standout moment in their careers, offering a rare glimpse of two iconic performers in perfect harmony. 
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2 . Lulu – You’re The One That I WantIn 1979, two iconic voices—Shirley Bassey and Lulu—teamed up for a live TV performance that blended theatrics with pure pop charm. The centerpiece of their duet was a rendition of “You’re The One That I Want,” the Grease smash hit, which they reworked with exaggerated flair, transforming it into something both campy and oddly captivating. For fans of unapologetic showbiz moments, this was a meeting of powerhouse vocals and over-the-top drama, with the BBC production adding just enough gloss to keep things compelling without approaching self-parody. Following the duet, Lulu seized her solo moment with “Come See What Love Has Done,” a gentler, more introspective tune that balanced the spectacle of the evening with emotional depth. The contrast between the pop-disco energy of the duet and Lulu’s ballad provided a refreshing tonal shift, though her solo arguably paled in comparison to the dynamic opening number. The performance aired on a BBC special, and while it didn’t ignite the charts or leave a permanent mark on their discographies, it remains a fascinating relic of late ’70s entertainment. It was a time when variety shows provided a platform for artists to step outside their comfort zones, and this BBC collaboration encapsulates both the eccentricity and charm of the era. The juxtaposition of Shirley’s theatrical intensity with Lulu’s earthier energy created an electric, if slightly uneven, performance that continues to intrigue pop aficionados decades later.
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3 . Propellerheads – History RepeatingReleased in 1997, “History Repeating” by Propellerheads featuring Shirley Bassey manages to blend the suave allure of 1960s jazz with the brash beats of modern electronic music. The track finds its home on the album *Decksandrumsandrockandroll*, a title as chaotic as the genre fusion it champions. With Shirley Bassey’s commanding performance recorded in a single, flawless take, it’s clear she didn’t just lend her voice—she occupied the song like a star reclaiming her throne in a new era. Producers Alex Gifford and his samples, which borrow slyly from the 1968 Russ Meyer film *Finders Keepers, Lovers, Weepers!*, fuse nostalgia with sharp-edged futurism, crafting a sound both retro-luxe and subversively contemporary. The accompanying music video complements the track’s playful time warp, with Bassey and Propellerheads owning a retro TV set as though they’d existed there all along. Chartwise, the song secured a niche, dominating the UK Indie Chart at No. 1 and carving a footprint on the US Dance Club Songs chart by landing at No. 10. Culturally, the track has found second lives in films like *There’s Something About Mary* and *It’s Complicated*, TV shows, and even a Jaguar commercial, cementing its role in pop culture ephemera. With influences stretching to Geri Halliwell’s single “Look at Me” and live performances during the *Thank You for the Years Tour 2003*, the track proves, fittingly, that history does—sometimes quite glamorously—repeat itself.
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4 . Engelbert Humperdinck – MedleyShirley Bassey and Engelbert Humperdinck’s 1970 medley is a fascinating blend of theatrical flair and smooth vocal delivery, pulled straight from the Engelbert Humperdinck TV Show. This performance stitches together two songs: “The Joker,” lifted from the musical *The Roar of the Greasepaint – The Smell of the Crowd*, and “The Sea and Sand,” a piece crafted by Johnny Harris, Tony Colton, and Raymond Smith. While Bassey nails “The Joker” as a standalone number with her signature strength and drama, “The Sea and Sand” softens the evening with its wistful storytelling. The absence of a proper album or chart placement for this medley suggests that its true home is the TV screen rather than the vinyl grooves. The remastered clip captures a peak TV moment from 1970, brimming with a nostalgic sheen and a sense of live spontaneity that neatly ties their distinct yet complementary styles. Though neither song screams ‘chart-topper,’ they serve perfectly as a showcase of vocal dynamics and chemistry wrapped within the era’s pop sensibilities. In a time when variety shows were the YouTube of their day, this performance remains a charming artifact of star power and genre-blending eccentricity.
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5 . Eydie Gorme – Watch What HappensShirley Bassey and Eydie Gormé teaming up for “Watch What Happens” feels like an unexpected but oddly fitting collaboration, a pairing of two powerhouse vocalists navigating Michel Legrand’s dreamy composition with ease. The song, imported from the French film *The Umbrellas of Cherbourg*, carries a jazzy blend of melancholy and optimism, its easy-listening charm dressed up in the vocal flourishes both singers are known for—but not without a few moments of competition for attention. While specific details around its recording or release remain elusive—no definitive year, album, or producer to name—it’s clear that this duet has appeared as part of a televised or live performance meant to entertain rather than chart. The track straddles genres with a foot in pop and a hand grazing jazz, but you’re left wondering whether either singer fully commits to any one emotional register or simply revels in showcasing their range. The associated video clip, available on YouTube, offers a striking visual of the duet, but with little context—maybe on purpose, to evoke the ephemeral quality of such collaborative moments from that era. More an oddity than a defining musical statement for either artist, “Watch What Happens” ultimately feels like an ornate shell—decorative, intriguing, but perhaps a little hollow in its emotional core.
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6 . Neil Diamond – Play MeNeil Diamond’s “Play Me” occupies a curious space in the landscape of early ’70s pop. On the surface, it’s a straightforward romantic ballad, delivered with Diamond’s quintessential croon and wrapped in soft rock melodies that feel more moonlit sidewalk than stadium spotlight. The song climbed to an unremarkable yet respectable #11 on the Billboard Hot 100, a chart position that mirrored its gentle but assured musical ambition. Taken from his *Moods* album, it’s a wistful exercise in sentimentality, showcasing Diamond’s knack for crafting earworm hooks while leaning heavily on poetic imagery about love and connection. Fast-forward to 1974, and this subdued yet evocative piece had made its way into an unexpected duet performance on Shirley Bassey’s BBC TV Special. The cinematic interplay of their voices provided a peculiar contrast—Diamond’s warm restraint meeting Bassey’s theatrical grandeur. While there’s no official video documenting this rare pairing, the musical moment has since achieved near-mythical status among fans of both artists. Bassey’s vocals, gilded with her trademark drama, turned the song into something bordering on operatic, pulling it further into the realm of performative storytelling than Diamond perhaps ever intended. Despite its soft rock leanings, “Play Me” feels more like a literary vignette than a pop song. Its lyrical interplay between day and night—tied to themes of longing and fleeting intimacy—is tender without descending into saccharine territory. Produced by Tom Catalano alongside Diamond himself, the track finds itself enhanced by lush instrumentation and a restrained arrangement that avoids easy sentimentality. And yet, its charm lies in the tension just beneath its surface: a collision of simplicity and grand melodrama, individual perspective and universal experience. Its inclusion on Billboard’s list of Diamond’s best 30 songs just cracks the top third at #27, a placement that feels strangely restrained given the song’s cult status, particularly among his devoted listeners. Whether it’s the gently plucked guitar strings or that whispered invitation to “play me,” the track continues to stir nostalgia for an era when popular music invited quiet introspection rather than demanding spectacle. Though its evolution into a duet performance elevates the song’s profile, the partnership with Bassey remains a historical footnote rather than a definitive reinterpretation. For all its soft-spoken romanticism, “Play Me” manages to tap into something timeless, if not transcendent. Its appeal lies in its ability to straddle lines: between intimacy and performance, quiet vulnerability and gooey sentiment, personal storytelling and crowd-pleasing arrangement. One can almost picture Neil Diamond himself, guitar in hand, winking at history’s unwillingness to decide if this was greatness or simply a fleeting, beautiful sigh. One thing’s for sure—it hasn’t aged poorly.
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7 . Freddie Starr – SkitThe unlikely pairing of Freddie Starr and Shirley Bassey in their rendition of “Je t’aime” is part musical parody, part comedic spectacle, effortlessly blending absurdity with vocal prowess. Aired sometime in the 1980s, most likely during “The Freddie Starr Variety Madhouse,” this performance sidesteps traditional metrics like chart success or production credits, thriving instead on sheer entertainment value. Bassey, renowned for her glamorous and commanding stage presence, steps into self-deprecating humor, revealing a surprising flair for comedic timing that plays off Starr’s irreverent antics. Their dynamic evokes the charm of classic British comedy duos like Morecambe and Wise, injecting levity into what might otherwise be dismissed as a novelty act. Though not crafted for musical acclaim, the segment succeeds in showcasing both Starr’s penchant for chaos and Bassey’s willingness to poke fun at her iconic image. Available on YouTube decades later, this relic thrives on nostalgia, offering a snapshot of when variety television embraced experimentation over polish. Ultimately, it’s less about the song and more an exercise in the sheer spontaneity and joy of improbability.
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8 . Jimmy Durante – One Of Those SongsShirley Bassey and Jimmy Durante’s “One of Those Songs” is a curiosity, a blend of easy listening and pop novelty that seems perfectly suited for a mid-century TV variety show rather than a modern playlist. It’s a relic of a time when music could be simultaneously unassuming and theatrical, with Durante’s gravelly wit counterbalanced by Bassey’s soaring, velvet-edged vocals. Released in 1968 as part of Bassey’s album “12 of Those Songs,” it carries an energy that flits between earnest nostalgia and playful self-awareness. The song, composed by Gerard Calvi and Will Holt, feels like an inside joke wrapped in melody, with a wink aimed at audiences who appreciate its jauntiness. While it doesn’t boast any chart-topping credentials, its charm lies more in its personality than its cultural impact. The production, handled under the Parlophone Records banner, leans lightly into pop orchestration—big band flourishes peppered across a buoyant rhythm. It’s the kind of arrangement that insists on being heard in a sequined dress under bright stage lights. For all its quirks, what stands out is its unabashed willingness to indulge in humor without veering into saccharine territory. No specific live performances from this pair have been pinned down, though one can easily imagine Durante cracking wise with the audience while Bassey belts, lending the impression of a delightful odd couple. There’s a joyous absurdity woven through it all, suggesting that neither performer took the act too seriously, which may well be its saving grace.
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9 . Les Dawson – A Couple Of SwellsShirley Bassey and Les Dawson’s rendition of “A Couple of Swells” takes Irving Berlin’s cheeky satire of wealth and filters it through a lens of British variety show flamboyance circa 1979. Originally performed by Judy Garland and Fred Astaire for *Easter Parade* in 1948, the song undergoes a metamorphosis here, swapping Hollywood glamour for a campy, borderline absurdist flavor. Les Dawson, known more for acerbic humor than musical precision, pairs with Bassey, her iconic voice momentarily sidelined in favor of theatricality. What emerges is less of a duet and more of a tightly choreographed comedic skit, complete with exaggerated costumes and delightfully hammy gestures. The performance thrives on its own contradictions—Bassey, the epitome of vocal elegance, willingly trades poise for laughs, while Dawson embraces the contrast, leaning into his “everyman gone rogue” persona. This was never designed for chart success or critical accolades; instead, it’s a slice of late-‘70s TV variety madness that feels both dated and oddly timeless. Its humor, though framed within very specific cultural references, manages to retain a playful charm, if, perhaps, you can forgive its deliberate lack of subtlety. For those with a soft spot for offbeat reinterpretations or an appreciation for the interplay between highbrow talent and lowbrow humor, this performance is a curio worth revisiting, complete with the textured patina of a grainy YouTube upload to anchor it firmly in nostalgia’s embrace.
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10 . Bill Bailey – Won’t You Please Come HomeShirley Bassey teaming up with TV host Mike Douglas for the jazzy duet “Bill Bailey, Won’t You Please Come Home” on *The Mike Douglas Show* in 1969 offers a time capsule of smoky vocals and playful showbiz camaraderie. Although not recorded as part of a formal album, this rendition integrates Bassey’s fiery delivery with Douglas’s surprisingly robust baritone to bring a fresh energy to a jazz standard synonymous with late-night piano bars and cocktail lounges. The chemistry on stage leans more Vaudeville than symphonic masterpiece, with the pair mixing melodrama and humor in equal measure, making this performance more theatrical dinner theatre than studio-polished gold. Bassey’s trademark flair—a balance of power and finesse—is occasionally muted here to accommodate Douglas’s less dynamic capabilities, yet her control over both sentiment and stage remains undeniable. This duet speaks to a bygone era of variety television’s attempt to merge musical genre-crossover charm with mainstream accessibility, though the outcome feels less groundbreaking and more like a cheerful shuffle through something comfortably worn. While hardly essential in Shirley Bassey’s glittering repertoire, the performance showcases her versatility, graciously stepping just a bit to the side of the spotlight while still commanding attention, even when the pairing itself may feel somewhat uneven.
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11 . Noel Harrison – Walking HappyShirley Bassey and Noel Harrison share the stage during *The Shirley Bassey Show* in the USA in 1968, putting to rest any myths of a “non-collaboration.” This televised performance includes three duets, showcasing Shirley’s versatility and her ability to match her style with a range of performers, including Laurindo Almeida, Noel Harrison, and Jimmy Durante. In this special, Shirley and Noel bring their unique talents together, offering a compelling mix of her larger-than-life charisma and his folky, introspective charm. While details about their specific song choices remain elusive, the duet provides a rare glimpse of how two distinct artistic approaches harmonize in a shared moment. It is a pairing that defies expectations, as Shirley’s dramatic flair and Noel’s understated presence create a memorable dynamic. The program airs during a significant year for Shirley, as 1968 also marks the release of her album *12 of Those Songs*, further solidifying her status as a powerhouse vocalist of the era. This duet, along with her collaborations with Almeida and Durante on the same show, stands as a testament to her ability to transcend stylistic boundaries and embrace artistic collaborations that broaden her already remarkable repertoire.
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12 . The Muppets – MedleyShirley Bassey’s appearance on *The Muppet Show* is a curious mix of high glamour and cheeky irreverence, a reflection of the show’s knack for blending two worlds that seemingly don’t belong together: showbiz elegance and felt-covered chaos. The centerpiece of the episode is her performance of “Goldfinger,” a song so cemented in cultural history that repackaging it with Muppet whimsy feels almost irreverent. Yet it works, mostly because Bassey delivers it with the same dramatic flair you’d expect from an actual Bond villain, while the Muppets add a layer of comedic self-awareness via their bumbling antics. Clad in her iconic red gown—a piece of sartorial history that sadly met its demise in a fire years later—Bassey doesn’t just sing; she commands the stage as though the puppet audience were just as real as the humans watching at home. It’s absurd, but in a way that acknowledges the gilded absurdity of fame itself, symbolized by the literal gold props peppering the set. Yet as much as the show leans on its comedic backbone, there’s something poignant about this being the last episode recorded for *The Muppet Show*. The chaotic energy of the puppets contrasts amusingly against the poise of Bassey, whose exaggerated seriousness somehow grounds the ridiculousness, making the performance feel less like a skit and more like an ode to the over-the-top theatricality of classic variety TV. While the performance itself has been locked away from YouTube due to copyright claims, its availability on DVD and obscure blogs ensures it’s not entirely lost to time. This exclusivity almost adds to its mystique, turning what might otherwise feel like nostalgia bait into a small piece of pop culture archaeology. Ultimately, the performance captures more than just a musical moment; it’s a snapshot of an era when variety shows reigned supreme, where pop and kitsch collided unapologetically, and where viewers could somehow accept that Shirley Bassey sharing the stage with foam creatures made complete, illogical sense.
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