Summer is here and there’s no need to travel anywhere else with the Entertainment Capital of the World in your own back yard. We have extraordinary things to do right here and topping the must-see list is the legendary Barry Manilow who performs his spectacular new show at the Paris Las Vegas Hotel & Casino.After more than 30 years in show business, Barry’s accomplishments are far too many to mention here. He has sold more than 80 million records and has had 25 consecutive Top-40 hits on Billboard between 1975 and 1983. In 1978, five of his albums were simultaneously on the best-selling charts, a feat equaled only by Frank Sinatra, Michael Jackson and Johnny Mathis. Barry remains timeless as he sings the greatest songs of the fifties, sixties and seventies for a collection of albums, as well as the greatest love songs of all time for another.
Talking with Barry Manilow was very special. He’s warm, caring, funny and down-to-earth. “Even Now,” as my heart savors the memory, I’m “Trying to Get the Feeling Again.” Enjoy getting Up Close and Personal with the man who writes the songs the whole world sings. “This One’s For You!”
Marsala Rypka: What three words best describe you?
Barry Manilow: Music, it’s the essence of who I am. I’m either performing, arranging, writing, or discussing it. Kindness, which is even more important than music and gratitude.
MR: What are you passionate about?
BM: The word passionate goes deeper and wider than my little world of music. I’m passionate about helping children become decent human beings. One of the ways of doing that is by making sure they get a good education and are mentored by great people. In my own small way, I work with principals and teachers around the country to try and keep music classes from being eliminated in the schools because I believe that music classes do much more than teach kids how to play an instrument; they turn kids into better people.
The Manilow Music Project, which is part of the Manilow Fund for Health and Hope, receives all of the proceeds from the weekly “Platinum Experience” tickets to my shows, which include front row seats, a pre-show champagne reception, a Meet & Greet and photo with me, and an autographed show program. This benefits the middle and high school students in Las Vegas by providing them with musical instruments, sheet music and music stands. The Fund also supports grass root charities that don’t get a lot of attention. Music is a great job and it comes from my gut, but when you say the word passion I go to another place.
MR: What three people have profoundly influenced your life?
BM: First Grandma and Grandpa. When you’re young, you believe everything your caretakers tell you. If they tell you you’ll never amount to anything, chances are you won’t. All my relatives loved me, but Grandma and Grandpa loved me in a way that I felt it in my gut and when a kid feels loved, he can get through anything. I come from “Nowhere Brooklyn,” where we had no money, no nothing. My grandparents, even my mother, Edna, acted amazed whenever I did anything. ‘Oh my God, he blew his nose.’ It was the greatest thing. I was the greatest human being. And I believed it. I just assumed that everything I did would work and it did.
Second was my stepfather, Willie Murphy. He came into my life when I was 12 or 13. He was an uneducated truck driver, but the smartest man I’ve ever met. He changed the course of my life. My family knew I was musical, but because I came from the slums of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, they didn’t know what to do with me. They tried their best to support my musicality by sticking an accordion in my hands when I was 11. When my mother remarried, the three of us moved into a small apartment and Willie brought with him a little stereo that sounded great to my ears, and a stack of records I had never even dreamed of. Big Band music, Broadway scores, classical, jazz, great pop singers and arrangers like Nelson Riddle. It changed my life. That stack of records may as well have been a stack of gold. I memorized every note on every album. I tried playing them on the accordion until they got me a little Spinet piano and I took piano lessons. I don’t know where I would be without Willie. A lot of people I know who have the same talent I do didn’t wind up where I am. Willie and I are still in touch. He’ll come to see my show and say, ‘You did good kid.’ I feel bad for kids who don’t have a Willie Murphy in their lives. That’s why I’m passionate about helping them.
Another great influence is my friend Linda. She is the kindest person I know. I didn’t learn kindness in Brooklyn; I learned street smarts, I learned how to stand up for myself, go after what I wanted and how to fight to get a seat on the subway. I came out of Brooklyn at 100 mph, like I was shot out of a cannon. I came bursting out of that world and I met Linda who came from the Midwest where people treated each other politely. She taught me how to be a real person. I’m grateful she’s in my life.
And Clive Davis. Without Clive, my life would be quite different. With his brilliant, commercial ears, he gave me a career that I never dreamed of — money, success in all public arenas, and an image that is sometimes hard to carry. It’s because of his genius that I’m here. It’s ironic that Clive found the song “I Write the Songs,” for me, because writing my own songs is the only reason I wanted to be in the music business. I’m grateful to Clive, though I wish he’d had more faith in my songwriting. Clive is definitely up there at the top of the list.
MR: Did you ever imagine you would have such success?
BM: Never. I was going to be a composer, an arranger, maybe a producer, though I didn’t know what that was. I never aspired to be a performer or singer. I started writing songs with a friend and they were good songs. They’re still good. When I moved to Manhattan, I learned that you make demos, send them to singers and hope that someone will record them. I did that, but no one was interested, so I sang the songs myself because I knew the words and it was cheaper than paying someone. I had worked with Bette (Midler) for three years when suddenly I was offered a record contract. When I told my friends, one of them said, ‘Doing what?’ I said, ‘Singing,’ He said, ‘You don’t sing.’ I said, ‘I do now.’
MR: You started out writing jingles like: “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there,” and “I am stuck on Band-Aid and a Band-Aid is stuck on me.” Was it scary as your career took off and you played to larger audiences and received Grammys, Emmys, American Music Awards, and you were inducted into the Songwriter’s Hall of Fame?
BM: Step into your fear and do it anyway is the story of my life. My old friends know I was a pretty brave, young guy to jump into this world I’m in without any experience and do what I did. I look back and I have to give that young guy a pat on the back. After high school I spent three years at the New York College of Music which became the Julliard School of Music. That was big because where I come from, there wasn’t one person I knew who went to college. I earned a living during the day in the CBS mailroom; I went to school in the afternoon, and I worked at piano bars at night.
MR: What are you most proud of?
BM: That I still have my feet on the ground. You can get blown over by success. I sometimes think success is more difficult to deal with than failure. I was 29 when success happened so quickly and powerfully. Before I knew it I had #1 records, people were screaming at concerts, and it knocked me off my feet. I think all of us who have success become assholes for about five years, and if you’re lucky, you can get through your asshole period and go back to being a regular person. I was on a beach in Florida and I looked up and there was nobody around except the people I was paying. I said, ‘What happened to me?’ Luckily I put myself back together again and I think I’m still the same guy with the same values that I was before that hurricane of success hit me. When you are famous, you are surrounded by people who “yes” you to death. That was the most horrifying. They were good people; they just wanted to keep their jobs. I couldn’t find anyone who would tell me the truth. It was the best of times because I had success and the worst of times because I lost who I was. When you grow up in Brooklyn, you have a built-in bullshit detector. I can spot a phony a mile away. I saw it happening and I kept telling myself it came with the gig. But I knew the truth. When all of my friends left, I had an epiphany and I knew I had to change. It takes constant work to be authentic, but it’s a big word in my life.
MR: Name something people would be surprised to learn about you?
BM: I record all my music in my studio at home by myself. You’d think I’d need a whole batch of people to help me, but I’ve been taught by some great engineers. I send the final process out, but I know how to work all the complicated, technical, computerized machinery.
MR: What makes you angry?
BM: People being mean to each other makes me sad. I get angry when people are lazy, when they don’t utilize their talents or live up to their potential of being the best they can be.
MR: Who would you trade places with for 24 hours?
BM: The singer-songwriters who stood up for their songs and wouldn’t record someone else’s. People like Sting, Paul Simon, and Elton John. Their record companies couldn’t get them to record cover songs or outside material like I did. They stuck to their guns and recorded what they wrote. I gave in. I’d like to know what my life would feel like had I not given in to Clive and recorded “Mandy” and continued to write my own songs.
MR: What is your greatest strength and your greatest weakness?
BM: I’m good at teaching people what I’ve learned. Whenever I’ve had that opportunity, like on “American Idol,” or with my band or various orchestras, I think they like listening to what I have to say. As far as a weakness, I suppose it’s my lack of patience. I blame Brooklyn for making me want things to happen immediately. New Yorkers move and think at a quicker pace. I see people get confused or frustrated with me because I don’t have the patience to wait for them to understand what I already get. I like working with people like me because we go 100 mph, which can be exhausting for most people.
MR: What was it like working on “American Idol?”
BM: Very rewarding. I watched the first seasons and cheered the kids on, but I’d say to myself, ‘They should be doing it like this, but nobody’s showing them how.’ Then I got a phone call to be on the show and I jumped at the chance. I told the producer I’d only do it if I could work with the kids for a week so I could help them discover what kind of song, what kind of style they were trying to sing, and who they were singing to. I worked with them for three hours at a time. I drilled Fantasia, Jennifer Hudson, all of them, and asked the same questions I asked myself like, ‘Where are you when you sing, “Oh Mandy”?’ I wanted them to tell their own story through the lyrics of the song they chose. Then I went home and arranged the songs to suit their style, because that’s one of my strengths. I take songs and flip them up in the air and change them so the person singing is comfortable. By the time they got on stage, they knew why they were singing the song. Simon said, ‘Wow, what did you do with these kids?’ I did the same thing the second time. The third time I gave an hour lecture to 150 kids who had made it through the audition process. I said, ‘Get out your pens and paper. Now listen to me. When you sing, don’t close your eyes. Sing to someone!’ I know I made a difference and I’d love to keep doing that.
MR: What is your most treasured material possession?
BM: If dogs can be considered material possessions, it would be my two Labs. They’re beating hearts with paws, full of unconditional love. Other than that, it would be a piano. I’ve had a few in my life and it’s always the most precious possession I have.
MR: What is your greatest extravagance?
BM: My only extravagance, and I have Jewish guilt about it, is that I lease a plane to go from Palm Springs to Las Vegas and back. It’s insane, but at the age of 95, I deserve it.
MR: So Palm Springs is home?
BM: Yeah, a Jew in the desert. I fell in love with the peace and quiet there. There’s so much noise in my life; the musical instruments behind me, an audience in front of me, airplanes taking off, cars. In Palm Springs there are mountains and sky. I need peace and quiet to hear the answers to the questions I have.
MR: What five people would you invite to dinner?
BM: I’d invite Jesus and ask him if he really existed. I believe that during that time, there were probably many people named Jesus and they all had the same kind of ideas of one God, being kind to people, and forgiveness — everything our current Jesus is supposed to have spoken about. I would ask if he really walked on water and returned from the dead, if there really was an Immaculate Conception, and all the rest that people believe today in order to stop everyone from killing one another (which we do anyway).
I’d invite Hitler and ask why he hated me and my family and all of the Jewish people. Why did he do what he did? And then after dinner, I’d kill him.
And I’d invite my musical heroes like Judy Garland. Judy was the world’s greatest entertainer. I’ve always loved singers who also act. Judy was that, so was Sinatra. The greats crawl into the lyrics they’re singing. When I started, I had to do that. I wasn’t a real singer and I didn’t know shit about performing. My strength isn’t my voice or my looks; it’s that I communicate the story of the song to the audience.
I’d invite Harold Arlen, who wrote over 500 songs including the 1938 classic “Over the Rainbow”, and George Gershwin. They were the greatest composers of the 20th century.
I’d also invite Laura Nyro, one of pop music’s most innovative songwriters.
I’d like to spend an evening with all of them. I’d want them to talk about their experiences, their beliefs, who they were inspired by and share some funny anecdotes. I’d pick songs and ask how they came about, what made them think of that melody, or how were they able to strip away all their walls and be so honest on stage. Oh, I’d kill for a dinner like that.
MR: What is your show at Paris Las Vegas like?
BM: The reason I’m so excited is because it’s the first time I worked with a team of people to produce a show. All these years I’ve been on the stage, I always performed in front of my band. I was a guy in concert. At the Hilton I went a little further and created little scenes on the two side stages that took the audience back to Brooklyn or an old nightclub, but most of the show was in front of my band. This time I brought in Jeffrey Hornaday, who choreographed “A Chorus Line” and “Flashdance.” He staged and directed Madonna and Paul McCartney’s world tours and he’s directing “High School Musical 4.” We’ve become best friends. He and his team of geniuses took the ideas I wanted to do and gave them back to me in such a beautiful package that the audience leaves stunned. It is the most beautiful show I’ve ever been involved with. In the past, I would talk about where I came from and then I’d sing “I Am Your Child,” but Jeffrey and his team gave me such beautiful scenes on stage and by the time we get to “Copacabana,” the stage erupts in gorgeousness. There aren’t many male pop singers who have this kind of production.
MR: You and Bette Midler go way back. You were her musical conductor from 1971–1975. You went on the Divine Miss M tour in 1973. You produced her first hit record “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” In 2003 you produced “Bette Midler Sings the Rosemary Clooney Songbook” and “Bette Midler Sings the Peggy Lee Songbook” in 2005. You also both performed on the Strip at the same time. What’s your relationship like?
BM: Bette is the most talented person I’ve ever worked with, and I’ve worked with a lot of people. When I see someone with talent, I feel it’s my duty to support them in any way I can. That’s how it started with Bette and me. I keep everything and I found an attaché case with the invoices I charged her for “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” and “Do You Want to Dance”, which were on her first two albums. It was like $100 for “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” and $200 for “Friends”, and she’s still using those arrangements today.
MR: How did you and Clive Davis meet?
BM: I was signed with Bell Records, which Clive took over in 1974 and renamed Arista Records. We’d all heard Clive Davis was the genius at Columbia and he was deciding who to keep on his new label. I was the opening act for Dionne Warwick in Central Park and Clive came backstage, shook my hand and said, ‘Welcome to Arista, Barry.’
I thought I was finished making my second album, but Clive said I needed a hit single. I didn’t know anything about hit singles. I should have, but I was making artistic records. I didn’t pay attention to the radio, which I thought played commercial junk. As I studied the world Clive wanted me to enter, I put on pop radio for the first time and heard “Kung Fu Fighting” and “Disco Duck.” I thought, ‘These are the kinds of songs he wants me to record? These people need me.’
Clive sent me a rock n’ roll demo called “Brandy.” I couldn’t believe this was what he wanted me to do after I’d done such beautiful songs like “Could It Be Magic,” which is based on a Chopin prelude! I didn’t want to sing anyone else’s songs because I was a composer and if there was going to be a hit single, it should be mine. After listening to Scott English sing the demo in this hoarse voice, I went into the closet and yelled until I was hoarse. Then I recorded “Brandy,” thinking that’s what Clive wanted. When he heard it he said, ‘What’s this?’ I said, ‘It’s “Brandy”.’ He wasn’t very happy so I invited him to listen to an arrangement I had done earlier that day at the piano where I played the song slower and made the chords prettier. He said, ‘Do that,’ and we changed it from Brandy to Mandy and I think it became the first power ballad ever. After that there were a million power ballads.
MR: Do a lot of songwriters send you material?
BM: I only record songs Clive has found and said, ‘This is right for Barry,’ or else I’d rather write them myself. Clive is such an incredible genius I trust that he’s hearing something the audience is going to connect with. I’m terrible at picking hits; they sound like any other song, but if I can figure out a way of arranging and producing it so we both love it, then it has a chance of becoming a hit.
I worked on “Looks Like We Made It” a long time. People use it at the end of ballgames and graduations because it sounds like a positive song, but it’s about two people who split up. When Clive brought me “I Write the Songs,” I said, ‘People are going to think I’m bragging about all the songs I write.’ I don’t think he understood because he said, ‘Well you do write songs.’ As expected, every DJ made fun of me. People don’t listen to the lyrics. The first line of the song is, ‘I’ve been alive forever. And I wrote the very first song,’ so you know I’m not singing about me.
MR: What important life lesson have you learned?
BM: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. If the world did that, there wouldn’t be wars. Fear leads all of us mortals. If love led us, we would abide by the Golden Rule. It’s what we’re here to work on. It requires a conscious choice because instinctively we go to that place of fear. For a couple of years I lived at the Bodhi Tree Bookstore and I read so many books and listened to so many tapes and CDs.
MR: Name a few books you love.
BM: “The Course of Miracles.” Books by Wayne Dyer. He came backstage to see me, but it wasn’t the right time to have the kind of talk I wanted to have with him. I’m friends with Neal Donald Walsh, who wrote all of the “Conversations with God” books. I don’t know how he’s getting this information and I don’t care, they are great books. I came close to living what those books were teaching. For some reason I stopped and sure enough I became unhappy. I think the only way for me to stay happy is to continually abide by the advice these books offer. I recommend it to everyone.
MR: After all these years reading spiritual books, talking to the geniuses who write them, going to seminars, living at the Bodhi Tree, what have you learned? Do you believe in God?
BM: I’m still not sure. I like the quote, ‘Something, we know not who, is doing we know not what.’ It’s about as close as I can get to committing to the existence of God. But it’s the music that affects me so terribly deeply that there are moments in my life when I think, ‘This feels so deep, so different, can it just be fun? Or is it more?’ I’d like my tombstone to read: The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music.
