Posts Tagged ‘Glen Campbell’

The Cake and The Rain (St. Martins 2017) written by Jimmy Webb – Book Review.

June 4, 2017

 

 

 

 

Didn’t We came to Jimmy Webb while he was out driving. It was the only time a song came to him unbidden and fully formed. He rushed home, transcribed it and started shopping it around. Aging pop star Tony Martin expressed an interest and called him in for a meeting at a theatre. Webb was told to wait in the ‘Green Room’. He took a chair and sat quietly so as not to disturb the elderly man asleep on a sofa.

The old man opens and eye and looking at the portfolio Webb was cradling asked him what he had there? Webb handed it over and the man pulled out Didn’t We and after a quick read through began humming it. Then he took a trumpet from a case and played it through. Louis Armstrong to Webb, “You got a special gift kid”.

It was Sinatra who turned it into a standard. “So you’re the kid who writes them like they used to?” he said to a startled Webb at their first meeting. Webb was given granted regular access to the Chairman who would listen while Webb played. Sinatra wanted first dibs on anything special. Webb, “He didn’t say so but you knew when the meeting was over.”

 

 

 

 

Webb’s mum and dad had hauled the kids to California in search of ‘opportunity’ but after the sudden death of his wife, Webb senior lost heart and decided to return to Oklahoma. “Dad, I’m not going”. The 17 year old had decided to stay and write songs. Dad was unconvinced but gave him forty dollars, “It’s all I have.”

Webb was a musically literate grafter. He searched them out, wrote them down and knocked on doors. He got to know the right people and his songs were passed about. Glen Campbell was L.A’s busiest sideman and was ambitious for a bigger career. By the Time I get to Phoenix provided him with the breakout hit he needed.

A melancholic song about a restless love affair, By The Time I Get To Phoenix is astonishing for its emotional maturity (Webb was barely18 when he wrote it). Campbell worked it up with legendary session band The Wrecking Crew and the result is so perfectly complete that none of the dozens of versions that followed have come close to achieving Campbell’s clarity of vision.

“Write me a song with a name in it,” demanded Campbell, perhaps thinking that place names were going to be his thing. Wichita Lineman took a few days and was missing a third verse but Campbell was so convinced he took it as was and detuned his guitar in order to mimic the vocal. The third verse became the home to one of ‘Middle Music’s’ most revered guitar lines.

Webb pumped out one more place name for Campbell, anti-Vietnamese War song Galveston. It was a sensation and cemented Campbell into superstardom but it was their last major hit together. Next Webb/Campbell single Where’s The Playground Susie broke the place name rule and the result was middling.

 

 

 

 

At the end of Webb’s book is a list (partial) of the artists that have recorded his songs. It is 12 pages long and among them is the unlikely figure of Irish Actor Richard Harris.

“You got any songs for me Jimmywebb?” Webb played him a few and Harris hummed and hawed until Webb played him a new one that had been written on commission for, then rejected by The Association (Cherish, Along Comes Mary).

Harris demanded Webb play it over and over, 12 times to be precise. By this point Webb’s fingers were bleeding and Harris was weeping uncontrollably. “I’ll turn it into number one for ya Jimmywebb” he sobbed, “A bloody number one”. He did. A genuine all purpose international sensation, the kind that makes people very rich.

Webb was on the phone to Paul McCartney a few weeks later when he let slip that MacArthur Park’s unconventionally long length meant that he was receiving three times the standard airplay royalties.

McCartney drops the phone. “Paul, Paul, are you there?” but he was gone and on his way to Abbey Road where he sets about tweaking the length of new Beatles single ‘Hey Jude’ so it could be suitably hitched to this wondrous new gravy train.

It was Webb’s only number one, a feat it managed twice when Donna Summer’s version took down the international top spot in 1978.

 

 

 

 

Webb was a genuine all purpose Wunderkind who wrote the kind of songs that made stars of singers and paid for a ‘Jet Setting’ lifestyle – Up and Up and Away as he explains in his most famous song. Mansions, fast cars, cocaine and women, (the later being the source of the angst in his music) followed. A lot of it is outrageous and some of it is crazed. Buddies Harry Nilsson and John Lennon come out of this looking a little crazed. Webb less so, wide-eyed and hanging on for dear life is more to the point. He regrets none of it.

Of all his work, most underrated are the songs he wrote for vocal group The 5th Dimension. “They were Black but didn’t make ‘Black’ music. They were more show tune style and while they were open to suggestions you could only go so far as Producer. They were a team and knew what they were doing.”

The record company were unenthusiastic about Up Up Away and let it loose without any promo or backup. It caught on regardless and by mid-1967 was sitting at number 7 in the US pop charts. The money poured in and Webb could write his own ticket.

A month after the Beatles released their ‘album as art statement’ the ground breaking Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band, The 5th Dimension released the Webb written and produced concept ‘art’ album The Magic Garden. And yes it has a sitar. And a Beatles song (Ticket To Ride as show tune) but as Webb explains, The Magic Garden is mostly inspired by Brian Wilson’s work on Pet Sounds (1966).

 

 

 

 

His words run swift and lean and his tales about 60s pop stardom fill out some lesser know details of a much mythologized time and place. There is no judgement, recrimination or agenda just an honest memoir about a first three decades of a man’s life. Webb is 70 and has lived a lot of whole lot of other life since then. Of that he says nothing.

One of the more significant songwriter, producer, arrangers of the 20th Century, Webb’s memoir is made of readable prose whose invention does not get in the way of a goodtime. Music and shenanigans aside, Webb comes across as a centred mid-western boy who has revelled in the fruits of his ambition.

 

 

 

*The Details in this review may not necessarily coincide with the timeline in Webb’s book. I had to return it to the library and left my notes in it and the dates on the Internet conflict so fuck it. I just wrote it as I remember reading.

** BMI – Broadcast Music, Inc. is one of three United States performing rights organizations, along with ASCAP, Global Music Rights and SESAC

 

 

Film Review: Glen Campbell: ‘I’ll Be Me’

September 15, 2016

 

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I was 7 years old when Glen Campbell’s ‘Try a Little Kindness’ hit the New Zealand airwaves. It peaked at number four on the local charts and later featured on the second volume of what would become an iconic compilation series called ‘20 Solid Gold Hits’. We had that record and I remember playing the song and over, liking the melody and the words but mostly liking Glen’s voice. I think my favourite Campbell song was and still is ‘Galveston’ and the album it was off became the first record I ever bought. I also loved ‘Wichita Linesman’, ‘By the time I get to Phoenix’, ‘Gentle on my Mind’, ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’, ‘Southern Nights’, actually there was very little I didn’t like.

I loved those deft guitar lines, the ones that for a long time made him the king of L.A session guitarists, but mostly I loved that voice. It was steady and pure and he knew how to express complex emotions in a simple and straightforward manner but of all his vocal qualities it was his phrasing that affected me the most. He knew exactly how to pitch a word and where to sit it in the melody, a gift that separates the good singers from the truly great ones.

Beyond all that the man was a natural performer. There were no affectations, just a simple country boy on stage entertaining the folks with easy self-deprecating humour and amusing one liners and of course those sublime instrumental skills. Watch him play ‘Classical Gas’ in his 2001 ‘In Concert with the South Dakota Symphony in Sioux Falls’ and marvel. What a show that was, the man was on fire but there was something odd about his voice and the less generous suggested that he had fallen off the wagon.

 

 

Alcohol had been a problem for a time but it turned out not to be the problem here. What we were seeing were the first indications that all was not right with his brain. A while later he and his family announced to the world that Glen was with Alzheimer’s, a diagnosis that marked the beginning of a merciless descent into living oblivion.

The documentary film ‘I’ll Be Me’ chronicles his last tour, the ‘Glen Campbell Goodbye Tour’ which started out to promote the 2011 album ‘Ghost on the Canvas’ and ended up as a crusade highlighting a disorder which is causing ever more grief to ever more people with each passing year and is predicted to reach epidemic proportions in coming decades.

This film was a painful experience and part of me wishes I hadn’t seen it. Who wants to see their heroes so badly blighted, a consideration the Campbell family examined deeply and carefully before they agreed to the process, but there he was and for the first round of the 107 odd shows he was pretty good but by the time the family pulled the plug it was getting messy.

Glen was becoming a waking caricature of himself, his behaviour erratic and disturbing. The truth is never easy but there it was in full-blown colour. There were tributes from the glitterati (everyone from Springsteen to well, everyone) but mostly there was Campbell’s family (who were also his tour band) doing the best they could in a thankless situation. This was no celebration of a mans life, this was an unapologetic chronicle of tarnished reality, though everyone was trying their best to grin and bear it for the cameras at least. I can only imagine the tears, grief, despair and frustration behind the scenes.

As for Campbell, well I couldn’t feel too bad for him. He was pretty unaware of it most of the time, living from moment to moment as he was, a dwindling figure of half formed partialities. He has had an extraordinary life and career and the end had come, as it comes to us one and all. He is not dead yet but he may as well be sitting out his remaining time in a specialised care facility as he is. An ignominious end in some regards, but I choose not to see it that way. I choose to remember the man as he was. That man was brilliant, extraordinary and brim full of life.