Rick Michaels’ “A Tribute To Engelbert Humperdinck” – A Wild Ride Through Pop Nostalgia
Alright, let’s get one thing straight: Rick Michaels didn’t just slap together some covers for A Tribute To Engelbert Humperdinck. This 1974 gem is a full-on love letter to Humperdinck’s catalog, but with enough swagger to make it his own. Released under Colossal Records in the US, this album doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but damn if it doesn’t spin that sucker fast.
First up, we’ve got “Release Me.” Oh man, this track hits like a punch to the gut—in the best way possible. It’s raw, emotional, and dripping with drama. You can almost picture Rick leaning into the mic, sweat on his brow, pouring every ounce of soul into those lyrics. The pacing? Perfect. The delivery? Heartfelt as hell. If you don’t feel something when he belts out those final notes, check your pulse—you might be dead inside.
Then there’s “The Last Waltz,” which feels like stepping into a smoky lounge at 2 AM. This isn’t just a song; it’s an experience. Rick takes what could’ve been a snooze-fest ballad and injects it with grit and personality. By the time the strings swell and the vocals soar, you’re hooked. Forget dancing—the last waltz here feels more like the end of an era, heavy with regret and longing. Damn, dude knows how to tug at heartstrings without being corny about it.
Now, I won’t lie—some tracks drag a bit. Like, do we really need two parts of “There Goes My Everything”? Feels like overkill, even if Part 1 slaps harder than most radio pop these days. And while “Les Bicyclettes De Belsize” has its moments, splitting it into two sections makes me wonder if they were just trying to fill space. But hey, nobody said tributes had to be perfect, right?
What sticks with me about this record isn’t just the music—it’s the vibe. Rick Michaels wasn’t trying to outshine Engelbert; he was paying homage while carving out his own lane. That mix of respect and rebellion is rare, especially in a tribute album. Plus, who else would throw French tunes (“Domage Domage”) alongside tearjerkers like “Am I That Easy To Forget?” Talk about keeping listeners on their toes.
So yeah, A Tribute To Engelbert Humperdinck ain’t flawless, but it’s real. Real messy, real heartfelt, and real unforgettable. Listening to it feels like flipping through an old photo album—nostalgic, bittersweet, and kinda rough around the edges. And honestly? That’s exactly why it works.
Final thought: If Rick Michaels ever decided to cover Nickelback next, I’d still listen. Just saying.
