The Way We Were
Riding in the backseat of my parents’ Rambler on the way to my grandmother’s house my sister and I begged for radio time. We were allocated about 15 minutes of the hour-long ride from Long Island to Brooklyn.
That’s because my father thought top 40 was earsplitting. “They don’t write em like they used to,” he’d say…he of “King of The Road” and “Moon River.” In his opinion those mop-top Beatles were unlistenable…until he heard “Michelle.” Then he kinda softened up.
It’s generational. My 50-something husband has a plaque in his studio that reads, “It’s not that I’m just old...your music really does suck.”
That said when our daughter was growing up, she didn’t have to lobby so hard for radio time. Thankfully, I was writing some of the songs we all wanted to hear. But as algorithm-culture took hold, top 40 started sounding more cookie cutter-ish— less original. (With exceptions of course!) And now, I too often hear myself muttering, “They don’t write ‘em like they used to.”
This week the songwriting community lost a beloved friend and force in Marilyn Bergman. Together with her lifelong partner and collaborator Alan Bergman, she wrote some of the most enduring lyrics of all time. “The Windmills of Your Mind,” “It Might be You,” “What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?,” “How Do You Keep the Music Playing? And… “The Way we Were,” (# 1 on the Billboard Year-End Hot 100 singles chart — a pop-centric/ contemporary space if there ever was one.)
My dad didn’t have to convince me that these songs were extraordinary. I knew it. I could appreciate the Beatles/Stones/Elvis and Barbra Streisand at the same time.
Aside from the Bergman’s stellar body of work and their Oscar and GRAMMY wins, Marilyn’s reputation as a passionate advocate for the working songwriter preceded her. My friend Brendan Okrent (who worked with Ms. Bergman when she was President and Chairman of ASCAP), spoke of her generosity and nurturing spirit…that she’d go to the Bergmans’ home before the ASCAP Pop Awards because “Marilyn wanted to examine every last detail of the script. She would act like a grandmother wanting to feed me. She’d have parties at the house and the ‘kids’ (Execs. from the office), got to go sometimes...with people like Sondheim and Streisand in attendance.” 😳
I wasn’t part of the ASCAP community but I’m grateful for having had the pleasure of Marilyn Bergman’s company for a precious ten minutes at a 2018 Fundraiser. 93-year-old Alan was to give an up-close-and-personal performance of “The Way We Were” for the small crowd.
Marilyn sat quietly on the side of the room while her husband got ready to sing. I made my way over and knelt by her knee. I took her frail hand and told her my name. I dared not ask - What came first? The music or the lyrics? (I’m tired of that inquiry myself although I would have loved to know her process.) I asked instead if she had children. She was happy to report she had a daughter. I told her I had a daughter too. Where they are…what they’re doing… Mothers are delighted to talk of daughters. That was the gist of our conversation. When Alan was ready to sing I believe Michelle Lewis took over holding Marilyn’s hand and I shimmied over to the piano. As close as I could get.
And he sang. What they say about a pin drop…
The nostalgic, bittersweet lyrics to “The Way We Were” are a poignant reflection of the melancholic relationship between the two main characters in the film of the same name but one can only imagine that they also express how Mr. Bergman must feel today after the passing of his beloved partner.
"If we had the chance to do it all again / Tell me would we? Could we?” Yes.
Let me put things in perspective. I’m a song junkie. Full Stop. There’s plenty of present-day pop music I go on about in this space of which I can’t get enough. Eargasms for daze! (Not a typo). Kacey Musgrave’s latest. King Princess. Jonathan Larson’s “Come To Your Senses” from Tick Tock Boom and this Jazmine Sullivan cover of the same song. Folklore, Leon Bridges, James Vincent McMorrow. Brilliant records and writing. Masterpieces IMO. But then…there’s “The Way We Were” — sigh — (and songs of that elegance and ilk — what Paul Williams calls a “lovers language).”
I’m simply not capable of writing a song of this calibre. But surely someone must be able to. Where on earth did they go? Have we inadvertently and slowly pushed this genre aside in favor of calculated formula? Have we lost our capacity for eloquence and heart-wrenching intervals?
I’ve heard up-and-coming songwriters refer to their craft as “making beats.” I’m sure that Marilyn and Alan (and their go-to composers Marvin Hamlisch, Dave Grusin, Michael LeGrand) never thought of writing songs as “making” something. Baking something. Their songs were birthed. Revealed. They emanated from a sense of yearning to paint feelings (and misty watercolor memories) with words and melodies.
We’ll always have plenty of talented tasty, clever ear-worm-worthy songsmiths. Topliners. Beat Makers whose delicious material I enjoy. Immensely. It’s just that when we lose all our Marilyns who’s going to write “The Way We Were”? How do you keep that music playing?
Because for whatever reason (and there’s probably more than one) they don’t write ‘em like they used to. And they may never write ‘em like that again.
Alan, we mourn your (and our) loss.
Rest peacefully, Marilyn
And Thank You.
*****
Bill Cantos on piano >>>>
******
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