For a time, Julie London was as famous for her sexy album covers as for her singing. Her debut is her best, a set of fairly basic interpretations of standards in which she is accompanied tastefully by guitarist Barney Kessel and bassist Ray Leatherwood. "Cry Me a River" from this album, was her biggest hit, and her breathy versions of such numbers as "I Should Care," "Say It Isn't So," "Easy Street," and "Gone with the Wind" are quite haunting. [Julie Is Her Name, Vol. 1 was reissued on CD by the Rev-Ola label in 2006 and can also be found paired with Julie Is Her Name, Vol. 2 as a two-fer released by EMI in 1992.] ~ Scott Yanow, All Music Guide
Pop standards vocalist/actress Julie London was definitely at a transitional phase in her career when she cut Yummy, Yummy, Yummy (1969) -- the final entry in her decade-and-a-half long relationship with Liberty Records. Modern listeners will revel in the obvious kitsch factor of a middle-aged, old-school female who is crooning rock & roll. Rightly so, as the two musical universes rarely collided with a lucrative outcome. However, just below the genre-bending veneer lie interesting interpretations of concurrently well-known selections with the occasional sleeper gem thrown in. The lush and admittedly antiquated orchestration doesn't mask London's smoky and smouldering pipes, and some scores definitely work better than others. The opening cover of Laura Nyro's "Stoned Soul Picnic," the adaptation of the Beatles' "And I Love Her," and the remarkably evocative "Hushabye Mountain" from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968) are each superior matches of artist with repertoire. Less successful is Harry Nilsson's "Without Him" [aka "Without Her"] as it lacks the urgency of Blood, Sweat & Tears' rendering or the pithy of Nilsson's original. The remake of Spanky & Our Gang's "Like to Get to Know You" is similarly short on soul, although it lends itself to the middle-of-the-road (MOR) feel, as does "It's Nice to Be With You." That said, the latter is infinitely more tolerable in this context than it was on the Davy Jones' warbled Monkees' single. The seeming incongruity of London's take on the Doors' "Light My Fire" isn't all that odd until she lets her hair down (so to speak) and slips into something right out of The Graduate's Mrs. Robinson. There are several instances of 'What were they thinking?,' such as the practically surreal "Mighty Quinn (Quinn, The Eskimo)" which sounds like it was the result of a Quaalude-related encounter. By the time we roll around to the title track, one can't tell if London is trying to be sexy or is simply hung over. "Sunday Morning" -- the second nod to Spanky & Our Gang -- also makes London come off as either bored or sleepy, either of which will be the effect that a majority of the album will inevitably have on 21st century ears. ~ Lindsay Planer, All Music Guide
Rather late-in-the-day effort by London and producer Calvin Carter, with Don Bagley arranging. The voice is pleasant but unexceptional, and the overall sound is rather dullish, and the emphasis on novelty tunes doesn't really help, though it does add a certain entertainment value. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
After 1959's excellent Julie...at Home, a small-group West Coast session cut in her own living room, Julie London's albums became increasingly orchestral and less jazzy during the first half of the '60s. While many of these albums are excellent (particularly Around Midnight), most weren't up to her best recordings from the 1950s. Then, in 1965 something changed, and stripped-down jazz backings reappeared on her albums until her notorious final disc went soft rock with a vengeance in 1969. For this album, the West Coast arranger and bass player Don Bagley combines an excellent jazz trio with subtle string charts that never swamp the intimate feeling of the disc. London came to fame by recording stripped-down sessions with just guitar and bass, so it makes sense that on For the Night People, an unidentified jazz guitarist gets to solo throughout the album. A typically low-key and melancholy session, standout tracks include a languid reading of the usually manic "Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey" and two songs made famous by Frank Sinatra -- "Saturday Night (Is the Loneliest Night in the Week)" and "I'll Never Smile Again." This album is a must-have for Julie London fans and thankfully she worked with Bagley again on the more upbeat but no-less-languid Nice Girls Don't Stay for Breakfast, which keeps the guitar heard here, but after the title track replaces the strings with a jazz organ and horn. ~ Nick Dedina, All Music Guide
Julie London spent most of the 1960s recording middle-of-the-road vocal pop albums of varying degrees of worth before returning to West Coast jazz with a vengeance on 1965's All Through the Night. Recorded the same year as that excellent Cole Porter tribute, the bland Our Fair Lady comes off like corporate payback for a quick jazz rebellion. The arrangements on this release are lifeless, and though she projected a sexy, confident image on album covers, Julie London was always better at singing torch songs of unrequited love then whispering winking, come-hither tracks like "Never on Sunday" or kitsch songs such as "Theme From a Summer Place." While Our Fair Lady seems like a stopgap release, the balance between jazz and upscale pop was achieved on London's next release, the fine For the Night People. ~ Nick Dedina, All Music Guide
It doesn't get much better than this, either for the recording career of Julie London or the whole concept of a vocalist doing standards with a good jazz combo providing backup. Listeners who like these sorts of songs but don't enjoy the over-arranged sounds of studio big bands and orchestras will no doubt take an immediate liking to having players such as Joe Pass and the terrific drummer Colin Bailey swinging away instead. Most of the room is left to London, who is in great form here. It is a tribute to Cole Porter, who wrote enough good songs for at least five albums such as this. The ten songs chosen run the gamut from the most familiar to a bit less, although most of this composer's work has received memorable outings via the vocal pipes of one saloon singer or another. Bud Shank does his Stan Getz thing, nicely pumped up. Greatly aided by a superb studio sound and mix, London really does convincing interpretations of these songs. In fact, she may be too convincing, and one might wind up packing one's bags as she eases into the first chorus of "Get Out of Town." ~ Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide
Well into her mid-thirties, Julie London was also well past her commercial prime when she cut this live album for release in 1964. Actually, she had mounted something of a comeback the previous year with the LPs The End of the World and The Wonderful World of Julie London, both of which made the charts for her after a gap of six years from her 1955-1957 commercial heyday, but Julie London, released earlier in 1964, had not charted. London's film work was also at a low ebb; she had not appeared onscreen since 1961's The George Raft Story. But this was all the more reason to emphasize the personal appearance aspect of her career by recording a live album. Cut at the Royal Box of the Americana Hotel in New York City, this LP might as well have come from Las Vegas, since it was a glitzy affair that surrounded the star with a big band and a bevy of backup singers. She borrowed from Judy Garland for "The Trolley Song" (a number largely taken over by the choral accompaniment) and "The Man That Got Away," while her husband Bobby Troup provided his 1941 hit "Daddy" and 1948's "Baby, Baby All the Time," the latter in a medley with "Basin Street Blues" and "St. Louis Woman." London was at her best in the sexy, playful "Daddy," which brought out her personality. One could only imagine that there was a stage show to accompany these numbers that would have made the performance even more compelling, but London was still able to convey her breathy, bluesy charm. By 1964, that charm was coming to seem adult more in the sense of "aging" rather than "provocative," not only because of the singer's advancing years but because she, like everyone in her area of musical entertainment, was being marginalized by the Beatles and their ilk. So, Julie London in Person at the Americana seemed somewhat old-fashioned even on the day it was released. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
This is a pleasant enough album, and London makes a valiant effort -- supported by arranger Ernie Freeman and producer Snuff Garrett -- to re-create the mood of "Cry Me a River" on the title track, and that's a mistake, as it simply seems a pale imitation. The rest is more interesting, but more because of the arrangements than due to London's singing. The original album is one of those classic stereo showcases, with Garrett and Freeman giving the lead instrument in the accompaniment, whether strings or organ or guitar, a very close and directional presence. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
The Wonderful World of Julie London is a pop album without the jazz underpinnings of "Cry Me a River" and most of her best work. The LP was produced by Snuff Garrett and arranged by Ernie Freeman, but the music isn't pop/rock -- it's a neat foreshadowing of the easy listening sound of the mid- to late '60s, and a perfect example of the kind of music that necessitated the adult contemporary label. Breezy and modern without borrowing from rock, The Wonderful World of Julie London delivers snappy performances of Cole Porter songs alongside contemporary numbers by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman in London's distinctive sultry voice. This was London's final charting album and is still an agreeable listen, but isn't as timeless and appealing as her traditional pop recordings. ~ Greg Adams, All Music Guide