Colored Lights: Forty Years of Words and Music, Show Biz, Collaboration, and All That Jazz (4 page)

BOOK: Colored Lights: Forty Years of Words and Music, Show Biz, Collaboration, and All That Jazz
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I later wrote some songs for a revue with Norman Martin called “Put It in Writing.” The show played in Chicago before coming to New York, and we had three numbers in it. I kept getting calls from the producers about one of the numbers called “What Kind of Life Is That?” because it was stopping the show regularly. The song was based on a remark my mother made to
me. I was having dinner with her, and she was reading the
New York Post
. There was a story about Elizabeth Taylor filming
Cleopatra
in Egypt. My mother was clucking away and she put the paper down, saying, “Oh, my God, Elizabeth Taylor—what kind of life is that? The poor girl.” My mother overlooked Elizabeth Taylor’s wealth and fame and felt sorry for her because she was getting a divorce and having an adulterous relationship. I thought that was a hoot, and Norman and I wrote a comic number set in an Irish bar with three old biddies in their cups, wailing about what kind of life Elizabeth Taylor had. I went to Chicago to see the number, and it was one of the rare times in my life when I felt talented, because that number just blew the roof off the theater. I sat in the theater and burst into tears because the audience was literally cheering. That was a defining moment in my career. I still can feel the pleasure I had watching and the joy of hearing the ovation for that number.
KANDER: Who directed that show?
EBB: Chris Hewitt.
KANDER: I remember there was a great punch line.
EBB: [
singing
]
 
“They packed up the crew of the Fox studio.
They all went to Egypt, but Nasser said, ‘Go.’
They wouldn’t let her in,
She’s Jewish, you know.
What kind of life is that?”
 
The word “Jewish” got the reaction.
KANDER: Because Liz Taylor had converted to Judaism.
EBB: Yes, she converted. That song really kept me in show business because I had been thinking maybe this was not the sort of thing I should be doing, which happened every third week. Norman and I wrote another number for that show called “The Revolution Is Late This Year.” I had worked at Camp Tamiment
and we were kind of political then. I also wrote sketches and oneliners for the TV show
That Was the Week That Was
, which was political satire dealing with current events.
I had also started writing with Paul Klein in the late 1950s. Paul was a sensitive, gifted composer, though he later opted for marriage and children and the waterproofing business. The financial insecurity was too scary for him, whereas I was ready to starve if necessary. But Paul and I did contribute sketches to the Broadway revue
From A to
Z, and we had a few hits. “Little Blue Man” was one, and Eddie Arnold recorded a country song we wrote called “That Do Make It Nice.” Jim Lowe recorded a novelty song of ours called “Close the Door.”
Paul and I also wrote a book show,
Morning Sun
. I wrote the libretto and lyrics, based on a 1960 story by Mary Deasy. That show led an enchanted life at first. Everyone we spoke to said yes. Bob Fosse said yes as director. Our producer, Martin Tahse, said yes. The star we were after, Patricia Neway (just after her success in Menotti’s
The Consul
), said yes, and the Phoenix Theater agreed to give us that prestigious space. But then Tahse had a falling-out with Fosse. I never knew the details but we lost Fosse. I think that Bobby might have given the show the kind of flash it needed. Bobby wanted to do it like a ghost story, and he was probably right in wanting to approach it that way It eventually opened Off-Broadway in a very tragic, operettalike style. I think the reason the piece didn’t work primarily had to do with my libretto, which was too maudlin and heavy-handed. Paul had written some lovely melodies. He is a wonderfully gifted composer, but my libretto screwed it all up. At about the same time, you had done
A Family Affair
, which also didn’t work, so early on we were coming to each other fresh from our failures.
KANDER: Hal Prince came in as director on
A Family Affair,
which I had written with the Goldman brothers, William and James. Hal was the person who brought me to Tommy Valando. Tommy was an enterprising music publisher who had a keen interest
in the theater. He also represented Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick. We may have first met in passing through our agent and friend Dick Seff. But my memory is that you and I were both signed to Tommy, and he said, “I think you two guys should meet each other. I think you would like each other.” We finally did meet, and that was in the fifth century. Do you remember it that way?
EBB: I remember you coming to my apartment on Seventysecond Street at Tommy’s suggestion. He called me and said, “John Kander is coming over to meet you.” I was nervous the way I always am, and you came to the door with a copy of the
Herald Tribune
under your arm. It wasn’t like you had brought me roses, but I thought that was rather nice. Then we sat and talked for a while about writing music. I liked you immediately and I had a hunch that you would be good for me. That was in 1962, and there was a musical called
Take Her, She’s Mine
. We decided just as an exercise to see whether we liked each other and whether our tastes matched to write the title song, “Take Her, She’s Mine.”
KANDER: Tommy pushed us to do that. It was almost like an assignment. But we didn’t get the show.
EBB: Nobody put the song in the show or played it. I don’t think anybody ever heard it. But
we
still know it. I could sing it for you this very minute:
 
I’ve known her all her life,
Take her, she’s mine.
A child, a girl, a wife,
Take her, she’s mine.
The day comes when
The lamb leaves the fold.
It’s part of an old design,
And so I smile and bow,
That’s how it must be,
Take her from me, she’s mine.
 
Not a terribly impressive piece, but that was how we started on that first day together. It was a case of instant communication and instant songs. Our neuroses complemented each other, and because we worked in the same room at the same time, I didn’t have to finish a lyric, then hand it over to you to compose it. A short time later we wrote a comic song called “Sara Lee” for my friend Kaye Ballard, about one of our favorite culinary delights. I remember one day when we were first writing, I told you that I had a terrific idea for a piece of special material with a comic premise about a coloring book. We had been writing songs mostly in a humorous vein, and after hearing me out, you said, “I have to tell you something. I think we’re writing too much comic material and it’s gotten to the point where all you can do is try to think funny. Why don’t we treat this new idea of yours seriously and write a ballad instead.” Sometimes it seems to me that all the good ballad ideas have been taken. How many ways can you say, “I love you?” But our first romantic ballad was “My Coloring Book”:
 
In case you fancy coloring books,
(And lots of people do),
I’ve a new one for you.
A most unusual coloring book,
The kind you never see,
Crayons ready?
Very well, begin to color me.
 
These are the eyes that watched him as he walked away.
Color them grey.
This is the heart that thought he would always be true.
Color it blue.
These are the arms that held him and touched him,
Then lost him somehow.
Color them empty now.
These are the beads I wore until she came between.
Color them green.
 
This is the room I sleep in and walk in and weep in
And hide in that nobody sees,
Color it lonely, please.
This is the man,
The one I depended upon.
Color him gone.
 
KANDER: We wrote that song for Kaye Ballard also. She was on Perry Como’s television show at the time, and on the way down to the show in the cab, Kaye said, “They will never let me sing this song. But maybe they will let Sandy Stewart do it.” Words to that effect. We took the song in, and it happened exactly as she predicted. Sandy Stewart did sing “My Coloring Book” on the show, and to our total incredulity, they received something like twenty thousand calls and messages the next day. I could never get over that.
EBB: I remember that we played the song for Nick Vanoff, who was the producer of the show, and Kaye was there. Her image was basically that of a comedienne, so he wouldn’t let her sing a serious number like that. If Kaye had objected and said, “No, I want to sing that song,” we would have missed out. I still speak to Kaye about once a week. She was one of the first people who had the credentials to validate me, and she did. She is warm and wise and funny, and I’m crazy for her. In my dictionary, under
loyal friend
, the definition should be Kaye Ballard. We later wrote another serious song for Kaye with the title “Maybe This
Time.” The idea was that
maybe this time
she would be able to perform a serious piece like that on TV. Later, Liza Minnelli sang it in her nightclub act. That song later became successful because it was in the movie of
Cabaret
.
KANDER: There were a lot of cover records of “My Coloring Book.”
EBB: We heard the morning after Sandy Stewart performed it on the show that Barbra Streisand wanted to record it. Barbra wasn’t all that hot then, but she was still a name.
KANDER: Who else recorded it?
EBB: Kitty Kallen and a lot of others.
KANDER: The song was a hit, and I don’t think either of us was ever prepared for that.
EBB: It made a lot of noise for us. Our having a hit song weighed heavily with Hal, too, that we were able to say we wrote “My Coloring Book.”
KANDER: I think I told you the story how some years later I was in an empty elevator at the top of a building, and Muzak was playing in the elevator. I was alone, and as I came down, I heard this big stringy version of the song, and I thought,
I am going to die
. This means the elevator’s going to crash! [
laughing
] Oh, I really believed that.
EBB: Others who recorded it sold more than Barbra. Kitty Kallen’s was the biggest seller.
KANDER: Barbra didn’t do singles, did she?
EBB: I don’t know. It was on her second album.
KANDER: She also recorded “I Don’t Care Much” early in our collaboration.
EBB: That song meant nothing at the time, though we kept it in a trunk and ten years later it went into the stage production of
Cabaret
[1987]. We wrote it at a dinner party—
KANDER: At your house. We were showing off about how fast we could write, and we said we can write a song between
dessert and coffee. The others cleared the table, and we went to a piano and sat on the piano bench. You said, “Well, what shall we write about?” And I said, “I don’t know. I don’t care much.” Then you said, “Play a waltz,” and in fifteen minutes we had written it. I love that song. It was one of those songs that just came out simple and full from the start:
 
I don’t care much. Go or stay.
I don’t care very much either way.
Hearts grow hard on a windy street.
Lips grow cold with the rent to meet.
So if you kiss me, if we touch,
Warning’s fair, I don’t care very much.
Words sound false when your coat’s too thin.
Feet don’t waltz when the roof caves in.
So if you kiss me, if we touch,
Warning’s fair, I don’t care very much.
 
EBB: Before meeting you, I wrote for people like Tommy Sands, Abby Lane, and Xavier Cugat. One of my early songs was recorded by Judy Garland. It was called “Heartbroken” and was on the Columbia label. I was delighted she recorded the number but at that point Judy wasn’t selling many records and it never became a hit. That was an early assignment I did with Phil Springer. The song suited Judy because it had some real belt notes. In light of our later relationship with Liza Minnelli, it seems strange to me now that one of my first professional jobs was writing a song for her mother. I also wrote for Carol Channing, who thought I was hilarious. I once sang her a number that I had written for her called “I Love Roz,” and she peed. Carol sat there listening to me and she literally peed in her pants! That song was an impression of Ethel Merman trying not to be jealous of Rosalind Russell for doing the movie of
Gypsy
after Merman
had starred in the show. Writing special material like that was something I could do, although I had reservations about that world. When somebody has a club act, they want you to write a special song that only they can sing. They get exclusive performing rights to the piece for the rest of their lives, and they give you two dollars and that’s the end of the transaction. But that kind of writing is one way for songwriters to start out and gain some experience.
KANDER: Once we started working together, we both knew that our goal was musical theater, even when we were writing special material or trying to write a pop song. I hadn’t thought of it until now, but we were both lucky that we had ways of making income within the framework of what we did. You had that world as a lyricist, and I was a rehearsal pianist. We were never taking waiter jobs.
BOOK: Colored Lights: Forty Years of Words and Music, Show Biz, Collaboration, and All That Jazz
5.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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