Moreno celebrates singer survival

And then there was one.

Back in October, I wrote of how three hotels on the north end of the resort corridor - not part of the Strip's sidewalk sea of humanity - hoped to draw in people with three old-fashioned singers of songs.

But Rick Faugno couldn't get traction performing just once per week at the Las Vegas Hilton, or later the Palms. And on June 25, Smithereens rocker Pat DiNizio will wrap his "Confessions of a Rock Star" at the Riviera.

That leaves Frankie Moreno, the singer-songwriter who on Wednesday celebrated 100 shows at the Stratosphere, surrounded onstage by showgirls, Crown Royal and hotel executives announcing a two-year extension of his two-year contract.

Moreno also bumped from three to four weekly shows at the Stratosphere, even though his record deal with Sony - which was to promote him to a more national level of visibility - still languishes in limbo.

His success means you can't just claim people don't care about singing humans anymore, and just want to dance. So let's take a look at why he caught on and DiNizio didn't. (Faugno was in the more typical position of renting or working for ticket revenue, so we'll take him out of the equation.)

DiNizio and Moreno both came in with salary guarantees and the support of hotel management. And both share their venues with topless shows. As a "Crazy Girls" roomie, DiNizio started at 7 p.m., probably too early, then moved to 11 p.m., almost surely too late.

Moreno sings at a more stable 8 p.m. And his topless roommate "Bite" remains the only other Stratosphere title. The Riviera added in-house competition, including comedy headliners such as Andrew Dice Clay in the same hour.

Moreno also benefits from a sustained ad campaign. When he worked lounges before this jump, success would lead the property to decide, "We don't need that billboard anymore. Let's make it for our new sushi restaurant," he says.

"So when I went to them I can't have it where you promote me huge at first, then I'm stuck in this contract just kind of finishing out my days," Moreno adds.

While DiNizio isn't commenting because of, yes, contract negotiations, I'm willing to venture the above quote applies to his situation.

Moreno's launch also came with a showroom makeover: new carpeting, paint, a new look for the cocktail servers. The singer sums up these requests as "Let's commit."

DiNizio's showroom could charitably be described as retro cool, less charitably as dingy and sad. As Moreno says, "You just throw a singer-songwriter into a room and ..."

DiNizio's fate finishes the sentence.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.