In the glamorous world of 1960s and ’70s crooners, few rivalries have endured as long—and as bitterly—as that between Engelbert Humperdinck and Tom Jones. Both hailed from the UK, both sported powerful baritone voices, and both were seen as heartthrobs, with legions of screaming fans. But behind the velvet curtains of Vegas and the glitter of gold records lay a simmering feud that would stretch over decades.
Their paths first crossed in the mid-1960s, when both were rising stars under the same management company. At that time, Humperdinck—born Arnold George Dorsey—catapulted to fame with his smash hit “Release Me” in 1967, which famously kept The Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever” off the No.1 spot in the UK. This overnight success eclipsed Tom Jones’ earlier rise with “It’s Not Unusual” (1965), and rumors of tension quickly surfaced.
By the late ’60s, what started as professional rivalry soon turned personal. Industry insiders whispered about clashes over TV show bookings, headlining orders in Vegas, and even shared female fans. Tom Jones, known for his swagger and bluntness, reportedly once referred to Engelbert as “just a guy with a funny name who wears too much velvet.” In return, Engelbert accused Jones of being arrogant and disrespectful.
The animosity came to a head in the 1980s when Engelbert claimed that Tom Jones had intentionally sabotaged a joint project proposed by their manager. Jones dismissed the claim as “nonsense,” but their icy relationship became public knowledge. Over the years, interviewers have tried to bridge the rift, only to be met with dismissive comments from both artists.
And yet, their careers followed oddly parallel paths: both found major success in Las Vegas residencies, both saw their popularity wane in the ‘80s and then enjoy revivals, and both remained beloved by older audiences. Even into the 2000s and 2010s, fans continued to compare them—some calling Tom Jones “the voice of raw passion,” others insisting Engelbert was “the voice of true romance.”
In recent years, Tom Jones has hinted that he’s moved on, while Engelbert has remained more reserved on the topic. But for fans, the question still lingers: who wore the crown of “King of Romantic Ballads”? Was it the bombastic Welsh lion, or the suave English crooner with a name borrowed from a 19th-century composer?