Apparently, Barry Manilow woke up one morning to find himself "broke".
His financial advisers either mismanaged his money or simply ran off with it.
Sadly, Mr. Manilow was forced to return to "work".
Before you could say "Memories" the 70's pop star landed a gig headlining in Las Vegas. Now, he's taking his fans on a trip down nostalgia lane.
As I surfed the TV by remote last night, I caught a promo for a new album slated for release to coincide with his current sell-out concerts on the glitzy strip.
There he was doing a kind of cha-cha down a catwalk, occasionally hopping into the packed audience to give a big hug to a fan or kiss the air suggestively near a chubby cheek.
Ah, Manilow magic is thriving in the new millennium.
Is it me, or does Mr. Manilow look a lot like Ellen DeGeneres these days?
I am so glad he didn't go the Elvis route with the flashy threads, a larger than life persona, and carnival-like gimmicks. On this occasion, the diminutive crooner was attired in a classy dress jacket (with a slight sheen to it, which I warmed up to right away) with an open-collared shirt in midnight blue and chic tailored slacks.
No jewelery, though. Did his financial handlers run off with that, too?
Just as I started to wonder what-in-the-heck happened to COPACABANA, he announced to the audience how proud he was of the "new arrangement" which was crafted for an album due to be released.
Barrie, it's God awful. Don't tamper with success, please.
Even still, Manilow has come a long way since the Continental Baths (male bath house) where he first played the ivories in New York as a back-up pianist for legendary Bette Midler.
I wonder how he managed to remain focused on the sheet music - what with all those hot muscular dudes traipsing in and out of the steam room - every five minutes or so.
In the early seventies an old friend - Jeffrey Jones (I knew him when he was just emoting one-liners in high-brow Shakespearean productions, before he played the role of the principal in the comedy "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", and long before his sex scandal hit the tabloids a couple of years ago) invited me to attend a Midler concert at the Palace in New York.
At one juncture, Bette interrupted the show a beat to introduce her back-up pianist, Barry Manilow.
"He's going to be big one day. He's so talented," chirped Bette with a lot of enthusiasm.
Then, with her blessing, he proceeded to show off his stuff in a mini-performance. For the most part, he played a handful of jingles he wrote for TV commercials, and a tune or two he'd written for a couple of name performers.
A few years later, he stepped out of the background, and the rest is music history!
Yes, he's come a long way since the Continental Baths.
By the way, has he come out yet?
I noticed in the clip on the Arts Channel that Mr. Manilow was wearing earplugs. I wonder, were the lyrics being piped in for him to follow?
Personally, I found his distorted facial expressions distracting when the camera panned in, not flattering at all. Also, it was apparent from the way he was stretching the muscles in his neck - and vigorously working his lower jaw - that he was not using his vocal chords correctly.
Understandably, he was incapable of hitting the high notes.
Yes, all that can be sweetened in the studio. But - in a live performance - it's painfully obvious that Manilow is a mediocre singer with limited vocal range.
However, his tunes - although a bit mushy and smacking of sickening-sweet sentimentality that turns a stomach on occasion - are catchy. The memorable melodies have a way of lingering, too; the sure sign of a "hit".
Keep pluggin' away, Barry - you'll turn up another winner, yet.
But, please drop the "new arrangements".
In the final analysis the song stylings are deadly - and sure to kill your career - not revive it.
