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I am fortunate to be a fortunate person – these are the words penned by Mack David in 1945 for Duke Ellington. This is the same Mack David who collaborated with Burt Bacharach to write Baby It’s You, a song I was introduced to through the Beatles.
However, even with these connections to its original roots, Burt Bacharach does not conform to the conventional norms of rock music. When a rigid journalist criticized his lack of involvement in the 1950s rock and roll movement, Bacharach replied, “I was busy studying under French modernist composer Darius Milhaud and listening to Dizzy Gillespie. Bill Haley’s music just didn’t resonate with me.”
At the 1963 Royal Variety Performance, John Lennon playfully recommended that the Royal Box should make noise with their jewelry. Meanwhile, Burt was preparing for Marlene Dietrich’s performance of Where Have All The Flowers Gone? as the musical director backstage.
Before I was introduced to electric guitars or the beats of Tamla drums, my interest in music began with the amusing bassoon in Perry Como’s rendition of Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s song Magic Moments. It was playing on the radio in our ground-floor apartment in west London’s Olympia neighborhood in 1958.
Bacharach and David collaborated extensively from that time until 1973, producing more songs than one could possibly perform in a single evening, or even a whole week of evenings. Even if they had only written the bridge of Alfie, it would have been more significant to the music world than an entire bargain bin of progressive rock concept albums. Despite Tom Jones initially thinking that What’s New Pussycat? was a joke when Burt first played it for him, Bacharach was the mastermind behind beloved hits such as Walk On By, The Look of Love, A House Is Not a Home, and I Say a Little Prayer (as sung by Aretha Franklin). Meanwhile, artists like Manfred Mann, Mel Tormé, and Love were left to compete for the rights to My Little Red Book. Even today, it’s likely that you are only a short distance or a few minutes away from hearing a rendition of one of Bacharach’s compositions.
Bacharach’s compositions are often simplistically labeled as “easy listening” due to their restraint, a quality that is not as common in modern ballads. However, this is not an accurate portrayal as his music can be quite intricate. He is known for incorporating uneven time signatures, which may seem like a mere mathematical exercise until one listens to “Anyone Who Had a Heart.” Burt explained to me that musicians who were accustomed to the straightforward 6/8 time signature of 1950s ballads were initially confused by his use of odd meters such as 3/8, 9/8, and even 7/8 in the coda of this song. These unconventional time signatures reflect the way intense longing can leave one breathless or cause their heart to skip a beat, or even nine.
There are few singers today, or perhaps at any time, with the gifts of Dionne Warwick, who first recorded Anyone Who Had a Heart – with apologies to Cilla Black fans. Dionne began working as a demonstration singer for Burt and Hal, but they quickly recognised that she had a unique voice at both ends of the dynamic and musical range, unerringly accurate when confronted with the unusual intervals in Burt’s melodies and at the same time able to inhabit the rhythmically precise narratives of Hal’s lyrics.
I have personal experience with the latter challenge, as Burt and I worked together as collaborators from 1995 until shortly before his passing. During this time, we wrote over 30 songs together. Despite Burt’s already impressive songwriting skills, our unique method of long-distance communication only fueled our desire to meet in person and see what else we could create. We finally had the chance to work together in person at Burt’s writing studio in Santa Monica, a grand New York hotel suite, and a run-down spinet in a Greenwich Village apartment.
I made sure to edit the words, but it showed Burt’s inquisitive nature that he allowed me to compose some songs in a musical conversation with him. Despite not having any formal music training in school or college, collaborating with Burt was a valuable learning experience for me after 50 years of songwriting. He had a strong attention to detail and would often work until 4am, even if I was up at 3am. Burt once mentioned, “I no longer push myself to the brink trying to achieve 110%, I am satisfied with 95%.”
I do not want to compare myself to Oscar Hammerstein Jr, but I believe that Burt Bacharach is the successor to Richard Rodgers in the legacy of American songwriting. Once, I convinced Burt to perform a song by a different composer and he chose Little Girl Blue by Rodgers and Hart. It was so well done that it could have been mistaken for one of his own creations.
Burt has worked on numerous projects with his third spouse, Carole Bayer Sager, such as That’s What Friends Are For and Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do), which would be considered the main focus in this narrative compared to my small collection of co-written songs. Despite being surrounded by many advancements in popular music, Burt’s musical style remained distinct and easily recognizable. Over time, it evolved similarly to how Rodgers’ music shifted from My Funny Valentine to You’ll Never Walk Alone.
Burt will always hold a special place in my heart. I am forever grateful for the time we shared.
Source: theguardian.com
