Brad's History
In
In
As a youngster, "When my music was taken away from me, so was my ability to love."
>B. Chapline<
Sep 1969
>B. Chapline<
Sep 1969
An AI-powered review
Bradley Chapline is a Las Vegas-based entertainer who has a history of performing in various locations in Las Vegas.
Here's a more detailed look at Bradley Chapline's musical background:
Bradley Chapline is a Las Vegas-based entertainer who has a history of performing in various locations in Las Vegas.
Here's a more detailed look at Bradley Chapline's musical background:
- Musical Career:
Bradley Chapline is a versatile singer who has self-produced five albums from a mix of popular songs that span across decades. - Performances:
He has performed in various venues, including downtown Las Vegas and the Stardust Starlight Lounge on the Las Vegas Strip. - Website:
His website, www.bradleychapline.com, contains information about his music and history. - Dedication:
Chapline dedicates his albums to those who attempted to distract, derail, or reject his ambitions in singing.
The Journey
By: Bradley Chapline
Feb 2025
I was just six years old in the late 1950's when I began singing. I would be sitting with my grandfather in his music room. He was a trombone player, a pianist, and a composer of religious and patriotic music.
My grandpa asked me during one of our private sessions if I liked the sound of my voice. I replied, "Yes". Grandpa said, "I'm going to record you (it was on magnetic tape), and when you hear yourself, I don't want you to get all embarrassed, because your voice will likely sound much different from when you hear yourself sing". I said, "Okay, Grandpa."
But, when grandpa played my voice back, it sounded all the same to me. Grandpa looked surprised. He then said, "Boy, you seem to have one heck of a gift. Very few people ever have this ability." I was still confused. But then my grandpa put everything in perspective. Grandpa asked if I had ever heard a person sing that sounded horrible, but thought they sounded great. I replied, "Yes, my brother. He was listening to a radio station in our bedroom one night and decided to sing along momentarily with a rock-n-roll song. He sounded so creepy, it actually made me scream. It was very much like a fingernail running down a chalkboard."
My parents came running into our room as if something terrible had happened. Well, it did. My father, after listening to my complaints about my brother singing, then told him to sing a few lines. I put my hands over my ears. When my brother sang, I saw both my mother and father cringe. But, my older brother, by four years, with his typical goofy grin, thought he sounded wonderful. Thankfully, I never heard my brother sing again. I believe my father had put a ban on my brother singing in our house.
In the coming years my grandpa advised me, "Without diversity in your voice, even your best songs will at some point become monotonous."
Thanks to my grandpa, I practiced, at home, a variety of his recommended vocal exercises. Next in line, I concentrated on emulating the voices of singers that I had a great liking for. Besides my own natural voice, I became quite proficient in mimicking the voices of Frank Sinatra, "Tennessee" Ernie Ford, Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong, Jimmy Durante. Tony Bennett, and a host of others.
By: Bradley Chapline
Feb 2025
I was just six years old in the late 1950's when I began singing. I would be sitting with my grandfather in his music room. He was a trombone player, a pianist, and a composer of religious and patriotic music.
My grandpa asked me during one of our private sessions if I liked the sound of my voice. I replied, "Yes". Grandpa said, "I'm going to record you (it was on magnetic tape), and when you hear yourself, I don't want you to get all embarrassed, because your voice will likely sound much different from when you hear yourself sing". I said, "Okay, Grandpa."
But, when grandpa played my voice back, it sounded all the same to me. Grandpa looked surprised. He then said, "Boy, you seem to have one heck of a gift. Very few people ever have this ability." I was still confused. But then my grandpa put everything in perspective. Grandpa asked if I had ever heard a person sing that sounded horrible, but thought they sounded great. I replied, "Yes, my brother. He was listening to a radio station in our bedroom one night and decided to sing along momentarily with a rock-n-roll song. He sounded so creepy, it actually made me scream. It was very much like a fingernail running down a chalkboard."
My parents came running into our room as if something terrible had happened. Well, it did. My father, after listening to my complaints about my brother singing, then told him to sing a few lines. I put my hands over my ears. When my brother sang, I saw both my mother and father cringe. But, my older brother, by four years, with his typical goofy grin, thought he sounded wonderful. Thankfully, I never heard my brother sing again. I believe my father had put a ban on my brother singing in our house.
In the coming years my grandpa advised me, "Without diversity in your voice, even your best songs will at some point become monotonous."
Thanks to my grandpa, I practiced, at home, a variety of his recommended vocal exercises. Next in line, I concentrated on emulating the voices of singers that I had a great liking for. Besides my own natural voice, I became quite proficient in mimicking the voices of Frank Sinatra, "Tennessee" Ernie Ford, Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong, Jimmy Durante. Tony Bennett, and a host of others.
Fast forwarding, and now nearing the age of seventy-two years old in 2025, taking a trip back to my early days of singing is a long journey.
"I was just a wee bairn. I fell in love with Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong's music. When I found out that Louie would be in concert at a local night spot in 1960 Baltimore City, I ran away from home, in the suburbs, by boarding several transit buses that took me into an inner-city slum. With no money, twice, I snuck into the concert hall and was removed by security. The third time I got caught, backstage, I put up a fight. I was lucky enough to have attracted Louie's attention. I ran to him for protection. I was crying. But then, almost immediately, I dried my tears and began singing "a cappella", just like Louie. He was quite surprised. Louie then told his security staff that I would be his special guest for his show. He told his security team to make contact with my parents, in that, I was safe, and they would bring me home after his show concluded. During Louie's concert, I sat on a stool, backstage, just off to to the side where he was singing some of his new songs, and, of course, his greatest hits. It was an absolute thrill of my lifetime. And then, the ride home was in a limousine. Wow!" If for just a short while, I felt like royalty.
My grandpa was a much different person than Satchmo. Grandpa was, for the most part, except immediate family, a "loner musician".
So, while in my high school years, an incident that broke the church's rules of adolescent behavior, resulted in me being removed as the lead singer in a local musical. That punishment led me to follow directly in my grandfather's loner musician's path. Psychologically devastated, I could not see recovery from this ordeal anywhere in my future. I became a hikikomori, of sorts. While I did sing, on occasion, I always made sure no one else could hear me. I even left my school's concert choir. I would refuse to share my singing voice(s) with anyone.
But then, over several decades, as time wore the pain off, but not the memory of that heartbreak, the "Juke-8" karaoke system was born. In a nightclub setting, any singer who wanted to take to the stage with backup music, it would provide them with both a clear and powerful sound. This, I thought, hopefully, would be the beginning of the end of live bands, orchestras, and political power in music. I also believed this was a new beginning for me. I was excited at the potential in having a fresh start.
"Mic-night" in Las Vegas became a stepping stone for just a few singers. I happened to be lucky enough to be one of them. I sang, periodically, for three years at the Stardust Hotel / Casino's Starlight Lounge.
My first night to perform at the Stardust, I was nervously waiting backstage my turn to sing. A beautiful young woman named Brandi with a mellifluous voice was out on stage singing. Completing her second of three scheduled sets, there was a five minute intermission. Apparently, Brandi had gone back to her dressing room to change costumes. Then, a wardrobe problem came up with her outfit right before she was to go back on stage for her third set. Brandi had no choice but to pull apart the costume on her body right in front of me and another male singer. With her full body exposed, I turned, bowed my head, and closed my eyes as Brandi hurriedly put on another costume. I could only assume the male singer sitting next to me, did not do the same as me. With my eyes still closed, I felt this kiss on my cheek. Brandi had whispered in my ear, "Thank you for being a gentleman". We became good friends.
Besides her beauty, Brandi was so talented and personable. She was surely destined for stardom. When I got to sing with her, infrequently, it was truly an honor. I was so happy for Brandi when she got a big contract offer from Caesars Palace. But, Brandi's husband was the jealous type. I seemed to be the only man he trusted around his spouse. He told Brandi she could not accept the contract offer from Caesar's Palace. An argument ensued between the two of them. While Brandi was getting dressed at home for her first night's show at Ceasar's, her husband took hold of a gun, and shot Brandi, point blank. She died. I cried for days and have never forgotten just what a wonderfully talented and loyal person Brandi was in her shortened life. I tried to go back to the Stardust, several times, to sing, but, I just couldn't. It became welcome news to me when the Stardust Hotel / Casino closed its doors and was imploded in March of 2007.
On the brighter side, I have also performed live on Fox network at the Union Plaza Concert Hall in downtown Las Vegas. Next, I performed at the Yellow Rose Concert Hall inside the Texas Station Hotel / Casino. But, my best performance was at the Main Street Station Ball Room, located in downtown Las Vegas. I performed a bit of opera and a long time Broadway musical hit. I have always cherished the roarous ovations that I received that night.
While I had ample opportunities to perform with the stars while they were in Las Vegas, such as, Janet Jackson, for example, I chose a different path. I wanted to build my own recording studio in my home, and produce at least several albums. I also wanted to sing live non-profit shows in senior retirement homes. However, it would take me the next few years to do both. When I became ready to create my first of four back to back albums, while still performing live shows, I was thrilled with my accomplishments. But, I wasn't quite done. A decade plus later, I created my fifth album entitled, "A Bit Of Country And Religion In Old Time Music".
There were no doubts whatsoever that I had major stumbling blocks along the way. I wanted to streamline my system in having the capability of not only being mobile, but also a system easy enough for me alone to transport and setup at my live show destinations. Although I failed time and again, I refused to give up until I got it right.
But, during my career work with the Nevada Department of Corrections in 2001, I got a toxic smoke inhalation. The intake of the poisonous fumes was so severe to my lungs, my doctors told me that besides never singing again, I most likely would not live past the year of 2007. But, they were so wrong. With my will to live, and my adherence to taking an assortment of powerful medications and working practical therapies to my advantage, I felt I had recovered well enough to both record my music and perform live shows.
My most ruffled live show was when I hosted a local company picnic. I had asked the person who hired me what kind of music did she want to be played at this event. She replied, "An assortment of music would be great." Singing a Frank Sinatra tune, five huge sized "good ol' boys" surrounded me. My DJ looked concerned when one of the country music fanatics said, "We don't play that kind of music here." I replied, "This is what the person who hired me wanted." The good ol' boys threatened me with bodily harm if I did not comply with their demand of country music. I immediately told my DJ to go to my vehicle and bring me my gun. Moments later, my DJ was seen coming back with a crumpled up towel that may have been covering the presence of a weapon. The good ol' boys had backed away from me. Quickly, my DJ and I packed up all of my equipment and left. There was no gun underneath the towel. However, the good ol' boys never found that out.
My most memorable live show was at a seniors retirement home in North Las Vegas, Nevada. I would be singing the voice of Frank Sinatra. The seniors were loving my Sinatra Greatest Hits show. The recreation room was standing room only.
Singing the song, in a vintage 1950's three piece suit, "It Was A Very Good Year", brought one elderly woman to tears. I noticed her bawling her eyes out in the front row while I was singing this particular song. At its conclusion I walked over to her. I asked if she was okay. She grabbed my hand, and held it like a vice. She said, "You just keep singing Frankie's music until you can't sing anymore. My husband and I were married for over seventy years. We were huge Sinatra fans. My husband just died several months ago." In her honor, I extended my Frank Sinatra concert until I was on the verge of hitting one of my numerous weak spots in my lungs.
Another precious moment is when I was singing Frank's mega hit of the 1960's, "That's Life". I glanced to the back of the recreation hall where there was a commotion taking place. I continued to sing. However, I saw a ninety-eight year old lady jumping out of her wheelchair, dancing. Security was repeatedly restraining her, but it wasn't working. She loved that song, (That's Life) so much it drove her into a complete frenzy.
While my albums are laced with both hard times and wonderful memories, I've never regretted for a moment passing on opportunities to sing with well-known stars.
I lived my dream in music. I sang, produced, and performed the songs I love, my way. It's all as simple as that!
"I was just a wee bairn. I fell in love with Louie "Satchmo" Armstrong's music. When I found out that Louie would be in concert at a local night spot in 1960 Baltimore City, I ran away from home, in the suburbs, by boarding several transit buses that took me into an inner-city slum. With no money, twice, I snuck into the concert hall and was removed by security. The third time I got caught, backstage, I put up a fight. I was lucky enough to have attracted Louie's attention. I ran to him for protection. I was crying. But then, almost immediately, I dried my tears and began singing "a cappella", just like Louie. He was quite surprised. Louie then told his security staff that I would be his special guest for his show. He told his security team to make contact with my parents, in that, I was safe, and they would bring me home after his show concluded. During Louie's concert, I sat on a stool, backstage, just off to to the side where he was singing some of his new songs, and, of course, his greatest hits. It was an absolute thrill of my lifetime. And then, the ride home was in a limousine. Wow!" If for just a short while, I felt like royalty.
My grandpa was a much different person than Satchmo. Grandpa was, for the most part, except immediate family, a "loner musician".
So, while in my high school years, an incident that broke the church's rules of adolescent behavior, resulted in me being removed as the lead singer in a local musical. That punishment led me to follow directly in my grandfather's loner musician's path. Psychologically devastated, I could not see recovery from this ordeal anywhere in my future. I became a hikikomori, of sorts. While I did sing, on occasion, I always made sure no one else could hear me. I even left my school's concert choir. I would refuse to share my singing voice(s) with anyone.
But then, over several decades, as time wore the pain off, but not the memory of that heartbreak, the "Juke-8" karaoke system was born. In a nightclub setting, any singer who wanted to take to the stage with backup music, it would provide them with both a clear and powerful sound. This, I thought, hopefully, would be the beginning of the end of live bands, orchestras, and political power in music. I also believed this was a new beginning for me. I was excited at the potential in having a fresh start.
"Mic-night" in Las Vegas became a stepping stone for just a few singers. I happened to be lucky enough to be one of them. I sang, periodically, for three years at the Stardust Hotel / Casino's Starlight Lounge.
My first night to perform at the Stardust, I was nervously waiting backstage my turn to sing. A beautiful young woman named Brandi with a mellifluous voice was out on stage singing. Completing her second of three scheduled sets, there was a five minute intermission. Apparently, Brandi had gone back to her dressing room to change costumes. Then, a wardrobe problem came up with her outfit right before she was to go back on stage for her third set. Brandi had no choice but to pull apart the costume on her body right in front of me and another male singer. With her full body exposed, I turned, bowed my head, and closed my eyes as Brandi hurriedly put on another costume. I could only assume the male singer sitting next to me, did not do the same as me. With my eyes still closed, I felt this kiss on my cheek. Brandi had whispered in my ear, "Thank you for being a gentleman". We became good friends.
Besides her beauty, Brandi was so talented and personable. She was surely destined for stardom. When I got to sing with her, infrequently, it was truly an honor. I was so happy for Brandi when she got a big contract offer from Caesars Palace. But, Brandi's husband was the jealous type. I seemed to be the only man he trusted around his spouse. He told Brandi she could not accept the contract offer from Caesar's Palace. An argument ensued between the two of them. While Brandi was getting dressed at home for her first night's show at Ceasar's, her husband took hold of a gun, and shot Brandi, point blank. She died. I cried for days and have never forgotten just what a wonderfully talented and loyal person Brandi was in her shortened life. I tried to go back to the Stardust, several times, to sing, but, I just couldn't. It became welcome news to me when the Stardust Hotel / Casino closed its doors and was imploded in March of 2007.
On the brighter side, I have also performed live on Fox network at the Union Plaza Concert Hall in downtown Las Vegas. Next, I performed at the Yellow Rose Concert Hall inside the Texas Station Hotel / Casino. But, my best performance was at the Main Street Station Ball Room, located in downtown Las Vegas. I performed a bit of opera and a long time Broadway musical hit. I have always cherished the roarous ovations that I received that night.
While I had ample opportunities to perform with the stars while they were in Las Vegas, such as, Janet Jackson, for example, I chose a different path. I wanted to build my own recording studio in my home, and produce at least several albums. I also wanted to sing live non-profit shows in senior retirement homes. However, it would take me the next few years to do both. When I became ready to create my first of four back to back albums, while still performing live shows, I was thrilled with my accomplishments. But, I wasn't quite done. A decade plus later, I created my fifth album entitled, "A Bit Of Country And Religion In Old Time Music".
There were no doubts whatsoever that I had major stumbling blocks along the way. I wanted to streamline my system in having the capability of not only being mobile, but also a system easy enough for me alone to transport and setup at my live show destinations. Although I failed time and again, I refused to give up until I got it right.
But, during my career work with the Nevada Department of Corrections in 2001, I got a toxic smoke inhalation. The intake of the poisonous fumes was so severe to my lungs, my doctors told me that besides never singing again, I most likely would not live past the year of 2007. But, they were so wrong. With my will to live, and my adherence to taking an assortment of powerful medications and working practical therapies to my advantage, I felt I had recovered well enough to both record my music and perform live shows.
My most ruffled live show was when I hosted a local company picnic. I had asked the person who hired me what kind of music did she want to be played at this event. She replied, "An assortment of music would be great." Singing a Frank Sinatra tune, five huge sized "good ol' boys" surrounded me. My DJ looked concerned when one of the country music fanatics said, "We don't play that kind of music here." I replied, "This is what the person who hired me wanted." The good ol' boys threatened me with bodily harm if I did not comply with their demand of country music. I immediately told my DJ to go to my vehicle and bring me my gun. Moments later, my DJ was seen coming back with a crumpled up towel that may have been covering the presence of a weapon. The good ol' boys had backed away from me. Quickly, my DJ and I packed up all of my equipment and left. There was no gun underneath the towel. However, the good ol' boys never found that out.
My most memorable live show was at a seniors retirement home in North Las Vegas, Nevada. I would be singing the voice of Frank Sinatra. The seniors were loving my Sinatra Greatest Hits show. The recreation room was standing room only.
Singing the song, in a vintage 1950's three piece suit, "It Was A Very Good Year", brought one elderly woman to tears. I noticed her bawling her eyes out in the front row while I was singing this particular song. At its conclusion I walked over to her. I asked if she was okay. She grabbed my hand, and held it like a vice. She said, "You just keep singing Frankie's music until you can't sing anymore. My husband and I were married for over seventy years. We were huge Sinatra fans. My husband just died several months ago." In her honor, I extended my Frank Sinatra concert until I was on the verge of hitting one of my numerous weak spots in my lungs.
Another precious moment is when I was singing Frank's mega hit of the 1960's, "That's Life". I glanced to the back of the recreation hall where there was a commotion taking place. I continued to sing. However, I saw a ninety-eight year old lady jumping out of her wheelchair, dancing. Security was repeatedly restraining her, but it wasn't working. She loved that song, (That's Life) so much it drove her into a complete frenzy.
While my albums are laced with both hard times and wonderful memories, I've never regretted for a moment passing on opportunities to sing with well-known stars.
I lived my dream in music. I sang, produced, and performed the songs I love, my way. It's all as simple as that!
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www.bradleychapline.com/
www.bradleychapline.com/