Born on June 7, 1940, in the working-class town of Pontypridd, Wales, Sir Tom Jones didn’t come into the world wearing a velvet suit and swinging a microphone stand. He was born Thomas John Woodward, the son of a coal miner, and his early life was more about factory whistles and pub sing-alongs than sold-out arenas. As a teenager, he sang in local clubs and weddings, charming audiences with a voice that sounded far too big for the small rooms he was performing in. If there had been a volume knob on Tom Jones, it clearly broke sometime around age fifteen.

His big break came in 1965 with the explosive hit “It’s Not Unusual.” The song shot up the charts, and suddenly the young Welshman with the booming voice and magnetic smile was a global sensation. What followed was a parade of hits that could fill a jukebox and still leave room for more: “What’s New Pussycat?,” “Green, Green Grass of Home,” “Delilah,” and “She’s a Lady.” His performances were energetic, theatrical, and occasionally so intense that fans were known to throw undergarments onto the stage. For most singers, that would be a once-in-a-career novelty. For Tom Jones, it became part of the evening’s routine, right between the chorus and the standing ovation.

By the late 1960s, he was hosting his own television variety show, This Is Tom Jones, where he duetted with everyone from Janis Joplin to Elvis Presley. That show turned him into a household name across the English-speaking world. He wasn’t just a singer anymore; he was a full-blown entertainment institution, the kind of performer who could make grandmothers blush and teenagers scream in the same ten-minute set.

Like many stars of the era, he hit a rough patch in the late 1970s and early ’80s. Musical tastes changed, disco came and went, and the once-unstoppable hit machine slowed down. But Tom Jones didn’t pack it in or retreat to a comfortable life of nostalgia tours. Instead, he did what legends do—he reinvented himself. In the late 1980s, he teamed up with the electronic group The Art of Noise for a bold cover of “Kiss,” originally by Prince. The track was a smash, and suddenly Tom Jones was cool again, which is no small feat when your first hit predates color television in many homes.

His 1999 album Reload proved he still had plenty of fuel in the tank. Packed with duets featuring artists like Robbie Williams, Stereophonics, and The Cardigans, the album introduced him to a whole new generation. It wasn’t just a comeback—it was a reminder that a great voice never goes out of style.

Over the decades, he has recorded more than 40 studio albums and sold over 100 million records worldwide. He has sung pop, rock, country, soul, gospel, and even a bit of blues, often sounding like he invented the genre himself. In 2006, he received one of the highest honors in the United Kingdom when Queen Elizabeth II knighted him for his services to music. Not bad for a lad from a mining town who just wanted to sing.

Offstage, Sir Tom has always had a softer side. He’s a devoted family man, a lover of golf, and a collector of classic cars. He’s also known for his appreciation of a good home-cooked meal and a quiet garden, which is a nice contrast to the image of the shirt-unbuttoned crooner setting concert halls on fire. He’s practiced karate, enjoys keeping fit, and has often credited discipline and routine for helping him maintain that famous voice. Considering he can still belt out notes that would scare the paint off the walls, it seems the routine is working.

In recent years, he has also become a familiar face on television as a coach on The Voice UK. There, he’s played the role of wise musical elder, offering guidance to younger performers and occasionally reminding them—very politely—that he’s been doing this since before their grandparents met.

Sir Tom Jones’ journey from Welsh working-class roots to international superstardom is the kind of story that proves talent, grit, and a voice like a brass cannon can take you a very long way. He’s survived changing musical trends, industry shake-ups, and more fashion eras than most of us care to remember. Through it all, that voice—rich, powerful, and unmistakably his—has remained the constant.

So here’s to Sir Tom Jones: the man, the legend, and quite possibly the only singer in history who could make throwing laundry onstage look like a sign of deep artistic appreciation. Happy Birthday, Sir Tom. May the microphones stay hot, the crowds stay loud, and the shirts stay at least partially unbuttoned.