It wasn't until Barry Manilow became a grave-robber that I paid him any attention. Sure, I've been aware of his career, and heard various cabaret artists sing lovely songs I'd never heard before and which turned out to be by Barry. But I'd never bought a Manilow album. Not even a greatest hits. My loss? Somehow, I wasn't in a rush to find out.
I did get in a rush, however, to get his latest album, My Dream Duets. It was an instant hit, becoming Barry's 15th Top 10 album when it entered the charts upon its debut a week ago, high up at #4. Why? Perhaps it's because every one of Barry's 11 singing partners on the album is dead. Judy Garland, Whitney Houston, Mama Cass, Dusty Springfield, Marilyn Monroe, Louis Armstrong, Jimmy Durante, Frankie Lymon and more. Though stylistically strange bedfellows, Barry's tribute unites them – coffin cronies.
Barry's had an extensive history of duets, scattering 15 of them amongst his albums. They were finally collected in 2011, as Duets . He was chummy and slightly campy with Bette, charming with Barbara Cook, funny on a disco parody with Lily Tomlin (with Ernestine making a guest snort), and sufficiently jazzy with Mel Torme and Sarah Vaughn (when both were still alive). So how does Barry honor the deceased?
Barry lets Jimmy Durante open the set cleverly, laying down the law: "The Song's Gotta Come from the Heart." Sage counsel, although Barry takes it as permission to shoot the chutes right into sentimentality, with John Denver on "Sunshine on My Shoulders," and with Whitney Houston on "I Believe in You and Me," a cliche list of all the ways a lover will "be there" for her man (and on which Barry just can't keep up with Whitney). As the album's finale, there's yet another slog through Louis Armstrong's heard-too-many-times "What a Wonderful World."
Barry is mostly relegated to harmony. Perhaps that's why he announces himself by frequently singing a song's verse or chorus before relinquishing the spotlight to his Dead Partner. Oops, I forgot, it's supposed to be a Barry Manilow album! Well, of course, there's some cherce stuff, in the instrumentation of Barry's updated arrangements, and sometimes, since he's a showman, in his vaudeville flash. I go for Durante's inimitable joy and the thriller moment when his solo piano blossoms into a full, contemporary band (thank you, Barry). Similarly, Lymon's jubilant "Goody Goody" swings hard, with a Manilow-supplied rhythm section that really cooks. But Barry's mighty busy filling in every nook and cranny with ornaments, jaunty sing-alongs, spry enjoinders and vocal secondings. His contributions often obscure, instead of complement, the unique qualities that made hits of the originals.
Lots of the song choices are also disappointing. Garland's "Zing! Went the Strings" isn't her snappiest version, and though Sammy Davis was an incredibly gifted singer with hot hits ("I've Gotta Be Me," "There's a Boat That's Leavin'"), Barry chooses the horrifying schlock of "The Candy Man." Monroe's "I Wanna Be Loved by You" is a limp choice. How much hotter this album could have been if the choices had been Garland's "By Myself," Monroe's "Kiss" (from the film Niagara) and Armstrong's "C'est Si Bon."
And I'm so disappointed with the technical treatment of Ms. Monroe, Judy Garland, and Mama Cass ("Dream a Little Dream," of course), whose cuts sound canned. They're thin and tinny, robbed of their original warmth. Finally, the album's 11 songs take up only 37 minutes. That's an extremely short time for a CD, even one like this, with a low list price. I was led into the album by its novelty and my fondness for several of Barry's partners. With the exception of the Durante and Lymon cuts, I will not be led unto repeat listening.