Introduction
“Early Days with Tom Jones” – Engelbert Humperdinck Remembers the Friendship That Shaped His Career
Before the tuxedos, the sold-out shows, and the screaming crowds, Engelbert Humperdinck and Tom Jones were just two hungry young performers chasing the same impossible dream. In the smoky clubs and pubs of 1960s Britain, they sang their hearts out night after night — long before either of them had hit records or international fame. Decades later, Engelbert still looks back on those early days with warmth, humor, and deep respect for the man who became both his rival and his lifelong friend.
The Struggle Before Stardom
In the early 1960s, both men were still unknowns. Engelbert, born Arnold George Dorsey in Leicester, had been performing under the stage name Gerry Dorsey, while Tom Jones — then Thomas John Woodward from Pontypridd, Wales — was fronting a local rhythm-and-blues band called Tommy Scott and the Senators.
“We were broke but full of dreams,” Engelbert once said. “We’d travel miles for one night’s gig, get paid a few pounds, and still feel like kings if the audience clapped.”
They met through the small circuit of British club entertainers who all knew each other by name — singers, comedians, and musicians trying to get noticed in a world dominated by American rock ’n’ roll. Both men possessed raw, powerhouse voices that could command any room. And both were determined to make it big, no matter how long it took.
The Gordon Mills Connection
The turning point for both came when they met Gordon Mills, the brilliant but demanding Welsh manager with an ear for potential. Mills first discovered Tom Jones and transformed him into a global sensation with the 1965 hit “It’s Not Unusual.” A year later, Mills took on Arnold Dorsey, convinced that his powerful voice deserved the same chance.
But there was a problem — his name. Mills told him bluntly, “Arnold Dorsey doesn’t sound like a star.” Then he suggested something outrageous: the stage name Engelbert Humperdinck, borrowed from a 19th-century German composer.
Engelbert laughed at first but agreed. “Gordon knew what he was doing,” he later admitted. “He gave me a name people would never forget — and it worked.”
Soon, both men were under Mills’s management, signed to Decca Records, and on parallel paths to fame.
Friendly Rivals, Brothers in Success
In 1967, everything changed. Engelbert’s version of “Release Me” exploded onto the charts, reaching No. 1 in the U.K. and keeping The Beatles’ “Penny Lane / Strawberry Fields Forever” from the top spot. Around the same time, Tom Jones continued his own meteoric rise with “Green, Green Grass of Home.”
Suddenly, two unknown singers were now the biggest names in British pop — both represented by the same manager, both adored by millions, and both competing for the same spotlight.
The press tried to pit them against each other, fueling stories of rivalry. But Engelbert insists the truth was very different. “We were never enemies,” he explained. “Tom and I came from similar backgrounds. We understood each other’s struggles. We might have been compared in the papers, but backstage, we were just two mates who’d come a long way from the pubs.”
They often crossed paths on the road — at TV studios, award shows, or Las Vegas casinos — and always shared laughter. Engelbert remembers Tom’s booming personality and good humor. “He’d tease me, I’d tease him — it was like two brothers competing at who could sing louder.”
Vegas Nights and Endless Applause
By the early 1970s, both artists had conquered Las Vegas, performing in the city’s most glamorous hotels — Tom at Caesars Palace, Engelbert at the Riviera. Their residencies helped shape the golden age of the Vegas showman: sequined suits, big orchestras, and roaring crowds.
Engelbert recalled one night when he finished his set and slipped into Tom’s show just to watch. “He was electric,” he said. “That energy — it filled the whole room. He’d drop to his knees, belt out a note, and the place would go mad. I thought, ‘That’s my friend from the clubs, and now look at him.’”
Tom, in turn, admired Engelbert’s poise and romantic style. While Tom’s shows were fiery and raw, Engelbert’s were elegant and emotional. Together, they represented two sides of the same coin — passion and polish.
Decades of Friendship
As the years passed, trends came and went, but the two men endured. They aged gracefully into legends, each selling over 100 million records worldwide. They shared mutual respect that survived fame, rumors, and time itself.
In interviews, Engelbert often speaks of Tom with admiration. “He’s still got that fire,” he said. “When I see him on stage today, it’s like the 1960s all over again. He’s a born performer — you can’t teach that.”
Tom, too, has spoken fondly of Engelbert’s gentleness and charm, calling him “one of the classiest guys in the business.”
Looking Back with Gratitude
Reflecting on those early days, Engelbert remains grateful for the journey they shared. “We came from nothing,” he said. “We worked hard, we believed in the music, and somehow, we made it. Those early years with Tom taught me that talent means nothing without heart.”
More than half a century later, fans still dream of seeing the two legends share a stage again. And if that day ever comes, it won’t just be a concert — it will be a reunion of two friends who never forgot where they came from.
“We started as dreamers,” Engelbert once said with a smile. “And in some ways, we still are.”