"We don't read music," said Phillip Crosby in what must have been the most plausible statement made by a public figure last week. "Like the old man, we fake it." The trouble, of course, is that Ring's boys do not fake it like the old man. Phillip, Dennis and Lindsay (Brother Gary has his own act) sing roughly like three C-plus scholars at a fraternity party. They are clean-cut, modest and likable; after listening to them for a little while, one longs to hear three singers who are dirty-cut, vain and loathsome, but talented.
Although the Crosby boys, who have no...
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