“One of the most distinctive and unique singers to emerge from her generation. A genius of lyrical phrasing and a seamless integrator of jazz, pop, and classical styles.” That’s how vocalist Michael Feinstein described Cleo Laine (on Facebook) after learning of her death on July 24, 2025, at the age of 97.
The Guardian‘s John Fordham, writing on the day after her death, said Laine “could travel easily in almost any idiom, from jazz standards-singing to the frontiers of classical music and opera, and she was the only female singer to receive Grammy nominations in the jazz, popular, and classical categories. When she became the first British artist to win a Grammy as Best Female Jazz Vocalist (for the third of her live Carnegie Hall albums), she received two dozen roses from Ella Fitzgerald and a card inscribed: ‘Congratulations, gal — it’s about time!’”
That RCA album, Cleo at Carnegie: The 10th Anniversary Concert, was a favorite of vocalist Anne Hampton Callaway, who posted this on Facebook: “She was a bird who could soar in any sky with her four-octave range and orchestral voice with its rich myriad of colors. And to me, what elevated her above so many jazz artists was her commitment to the story telling of each lyric, first and always, which always dictated her fresh and emotive musical choices.”
In a review of Cleo at Carnegie, Ron Wynn of AllMusic described her as “a dynamic, versatile entertainer who isn’t a jazz singer in strictest sense, but does possess incredible timing and a remarkable ear. Her diction and enunciation are admirable, and her stylistic range includes theatrical songs, pre-rock pop, English and Scottish folk tunes, and more.”
Clementina Dinah Campbell was born on October 28, 1927, in the Southall district of London to a Black Jamaican father and white English mother. She was encouraged by her father’s interest in jazz and her mother’s interest in music and acting. “I would sit in the cinema,” she once told Britain’s Daily Telegraph, “watching Lena Horne and Judy Garland and think: ‘I want that for me.’”
In 1951, she had an audition with alto saxophonist/bandleader John Dankworth. According to The Washington Post, Dankworth told his band members, “I think she’s got something.” A trumpeter responded, “I think she’s got everything.” The band members decided to call her Cleo Laine. In 1958, she married Dankworth (having divorced her first husband). In 1959, she appeared with Dankworth’s band at the Newport Jazz Festival and sang with the band at Birdland as well.
When Laine made her New York debut as a headliner at Alice Tully Hall in 1972, The New York Times jazz critic John S. Wilson wrote that she was one of Britain’s “national treasures, with a remarkable voice that ranges from an exotically dark, breathy quality to high-note-topping exclamation.” During that concert, Dankworth joined her in a duet of Fred E. Ahlert and Joe Young’s “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter”, which Wilson called “an astonishing bit of jazz virtuosity.”
In addition to her singing, Laine began a second career as an actress, appearing in such productions as Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Flesh to a Tiger, directed by Tony Richardson at the Royal Court Theatre, and several musicals such as Show Boat, A Little Night Music, and The Merry Widow. In 1985, she won several awards for her origination of the role of Princess Puffer in the Broadway hit musical, The Mystery of Edwin Drood.
Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, Laine performed with flutist James Galway and classical guitarist John Williams, was part of Michael Tilson Thomas’ London Symphony Orchestra series, “The Gershwin Years”, and sang with Ray Charles, Mel Torme, and Frank Sinatra.
Dankworth passed away in February 2010 at the age of 82. Laine continued to perform, often with a rhythm section that included her son, Alec, on bass and John Horler on piano. The Guardian‘s Fordham recalled a 2011 performance at the Cheltenham Jazz Festival. “Laine could still deliver a classic jazz song such as Duke Ellington’s ‘Creole Love Call’,” he wrote, “with a freshness not far away from Adelaide Hall’s 1920s version of the original.”
She is survived by her son, Alec, and daughter, Jacqui, a vocalist.