I’ve been racking my brain trying to pin down the exact moment and the exact song that got me hooked on the music of Burt Bacharach.
I don’t think I can get that precise in declaring the time I became enthralled with the work of one of the premier composers of our time, who passed away recently at the age of 94.
Little did I know that when I anxiously awaited his next big hit, I would someday meet the man and talk with him and get to know him.
I know for sure it was in the 60’s, that I became aware of how different, refreshing, and complicated his melodies were.
Bacharach wrote the songs, and Hal David wrote the lyrics.
Truth be told, it’s the lyrics people will always remember first, the tunes next, but together they were dynamite.
Hal David was a quiet, unassuming , average man, who basically kept to himself. He appeared as the guy you see in the grocery store.
Bacharach was a handsome showman, who performed at concerts all over the world, with a flair and a style that was unmatched.
He was the out-front symbol of this great songwriting team that produced hundreds of songs that will live forever.
Over 1000 different artists recorded those songs, most prominently, Dione Warwick.
But there were others. So many others.
And you all know the words:
‘What’s it all about Alfie, is it just for the moment we live…..’
‘What the world needs now, is love sweet love, it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…….’
‘If you see me walking down the street, and I start to cry, each time we meet, walk on by………’
‘What do you get when you fall in love? A guy with a pin to burst your bubble, that’s what you get for all you’re trouble
I’ll never fall in love again..’
It would take many pages to list the songs that are etched indelibly forever making Bacharach one of the most influential figures of the 20th century.
You are invited to check them out.
You won’t believe how many he wrote that you know.
Burt heard things in a different fashion. Using rhythms and chords in a new way at the time.
His influence on a sports-loving kid who dabbled on the piano was staggering.
I learned how to play chords, actually guitar chords, which I played on my left hand, with the notes, usually played as octaves with my right.
It was a shortcut way to play the piano without going through the rigors of learning to read using the correct treble and bass notes.
I’m sure this is gibberish to those who aren’t familiar, but it’s the best way to explain how I learned and how I play today.
I understand if you’ve had enough.
I never could play by ear, in other words, sit down and simply play. Something I regret.
But I can read and improvise enough to get by.
I bring all this out, because that’s what I did every time Bacharach game out with a new song.
I started following him in the 60’s, but he started in the 50’s.
These are the early I songs I played and couldn’t hear enough:
‘Walk On By’, ‘I’ll Never Fall in Love Again’, ‘What The World Needs Now’, ‘The Look of Love’, ‘This Guy’s in Love with You’, etc.
His songs were difficult to play, I think, even for those who knew what they were doing. Constant changes in rhythm, rapid-fire notes to form the tune, high to low scales, and sudden chord changes were all challenges.
I would buy his records, seek out the sheet-music in Times Square music shops, and countless times, go out to the Westbury Music Fair to see him perform with his orchestra.
Burt would introduce most of the songs, stand while playing the key notes on the piano, and gesture with his head or hands to the strings, or horns that were needed at that moment. Or the trio of singers who would make those great Hal David lyrics come alive.
I still watch many of his performances, on YouTube, mostly in London, and revel in his style.
I pride myself having a good memory, but I also cannot recall the exact time I met Burt Bacharach. It was in New York, and I knew he was a friend of one of CBS Sports’ public relations staff.
He was a rabid sports fan and a fan of the Oakland Raiders.
He also owned horses which he would run at Del Mar, in California.
I suppose the one thing that bonded the two of us, was the fact that I could recall every single one of the songs he wrote, even those, believe it or not, that did not become hits, or were obscure.
So, when I would hum the tune of ‘Hasbrouck Heights’, he was kind of impressed.
One time I suggested to him that the song with the most time changes from his Broadway hit ‘Promises, Promises’, was ‘Knowing When to Leave’. He corrected me and told me that the title song, ‘Promises, Promises’, had more.
I couldn’t believe how I overstepped my boundaries.
What was I thinking?
I am not the sort who invites compliments.
But the one that makes me most proud, is when Burt Bacharach told me I knew his music better than anyone.
No sports accolade could exceed that.
The last time I saw Burt was in 2013.
I wanted him to meet Jamie.
As it turns out he was doing a show in Tucson.
Jamie grew up in Arizona and attended the University of Arizona in that city.
He was brilliant as usual, at 85.
He did all the numbers, but my two favorites hadn’t been played.
Then, his final two.
‘A House is not a Home’.
Then, the one I was waiting for all night. ‘Alfie’, which I knew was his personal favorite.
After the show, we went backstage, and stood outside his dressing room when he came out.
I introduced him to Jamie and told him I sang that song to her the first time we met over cocktails.
He smiled.
In writing this, I have come to realize that nothing on paper could possibly do him justice as a composer of songs for a lifetime.
The love of music, believe it or not, was the one common thread that spurred my friendship with Tim McCarver.
McCarver passed away last week at 81.
He was an outstanding major league catcher who played from 1959 to 1980 for four teams, mostly with the St.Louis Cardinals and Philadelphia Phillies.
I knew him when he was the third-string catcher with the 1975 Boston Red Sox. He had played in two World Series with the Cardinals, and was the star of the 1964 triumph over the Yankees, batting .478 including a three-run home run to win Game 5. He was the first catcher since the 19th century to lead the National League in triples with 13, and was runner-up for the 1967 NL Most Valuable Player Award behind teammate Orlando Cepeda.
He was seemingly at the finish of his career when he was cut by the Red Sox in June of ‘75.
Tim and I would often lunch at a downtown Boston seafood restaurant and talk of two things: our love of Broadway hit show tunes, and his desire to get into the broadcasting field.
After being waived by the Red Sox, he signed with the Phillies and had, not only a dramatic revival of his playing career, but his actual start as a broadcaster.
He was known as the ‘personal’ catcher for the great lefty Steve Carlton, and also handled post-game interviews on the field for the local Phillies’ telecasts.
He eventually became a brilliant TV analyst for the Mets and Yankees, and then with ABC, CBS, and Fox where called a mind-boggling 24 World Series.
Tim always worked the top game at the network, but there were times we teamed up on many games for Fox.
Tim had a marvelous sense of humor, was a generous human being, and the most prominent memory for me, occurred before the games we broadcast.
In preparing for the game, and filling out the line-ups on our scorebooks, we would sing show tunes, ranging from Rogers and Hammerstein, to Lerner and Lowe.
In other words, the songs from ‘South Pacific’ and ‘My Fair Lady’ were heard from our booth as we got ready for action.
I will miss Tim McCarver, and Burt Bacharach.
I am grateful that a player I watched as a college kid and young reporter, and a composer who became the most important influence on my love for music were two people I came to meet and know.
Ask me what two of my biggest thrills have been, and I will offer those two names, high on the list.