Bob's Acclaimed New Randy Newman Biography
Photo: Steve Starr / Corbis / Getty Images
Early Praise:"Words in Defense of Our Country is a strong and invaluable book. The title is perfect and expands and deepens as the story goes on, and Randy's commitment to artistic citizenship, and Robert Hilburn's pursuit of the theeme, give the book great weight. The arguments powering Newman's work is that defending your country means criticizing it, living in it as it really is, demanding that the country live up to its promises while acknowledging its betrayals."
- Greil Marcus, Author of Mystery Train "Apart from his many other astonishing gifts, I believe newman to be the finest American satirist in any medium in my lifetime."
- Garry Trudeau, "Doonesbury" "At last, the biography that Randy Newman has long-deserved. The emotional precision, the humor and sweep, the truths and secrets behind his remarkable body of work.. it's all here in Robert Hilburn's heartfelt and indispensable account of America's finest songwriter. Leave it to Hilburn to pull back the curtain on the incredible life of Newman, as shy genius who clearly trusted him enough to point him in all the right directions. It's more than a great read, it's an invitation to re-visit Randy Newman's work with renewed appreciation for the man who uniquely defined the American Experience just when we needed it most."
- Cameron Crowe "Randy Newman is our great master of American song and storytelling."
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Bob's Thoughts on Randy Newman
The "Trick" Album Strategy That Jump-Started Randy Newman's Career
Randy Newman’s first two albums were acclaimed by critics and peers, but they only sold around 5,000 copies each, which would have likely lead many record companies to drop the young singer-songwriter. But Warner Bros. Records believed in Newman and the brain trust set about trying to find a way to find him an audience. The answer was a strategy as daring as Randy’s writing style.
Bob Krasnow, a Warner executive known for his off-the-wall ideas, came up with the idea of Randy doing a live album, which was largely unprecedented for an artist like Newman without any hit singles or even a touring history. But Krasnow’s plan also included a teasing bit of subterfuge. Warner would package and promote the live album as a bootleg to make it appear that music had been leaked by someone who had gained secret access to the tapes.
Bootlegs had become an underground sensation a few months earlier after Great White Wonder, a collection of unreleased Bob Dylan material, suddenly appeared at swap meets and in small indie record shops without the knowledge or permission of his record label. Even though the Newman LP would list Reprise Records on the cover, the ragged, no-frills design would give the illusion of something outside the normal music business machinery. And it worked.
The response was over whelming when the label sent promo copies of the live album to critics and radio station program directors, inferring that this was something for their ears, not meant for commercial release. Typical of the enthusiasm, Rolling Stone reviewed the promo LP and urged Warner to formally put it out.
As if bowing to pressure, Warner then released the album in the bootleg packaging. Between the reviews, the air play and the faux bootleg packaging. Sales topped 50,000. The atmosphere in the studio for his next album was brightened by knowing an audience was finally building and Randy responded with his finest album yet, Sail Away. Sales soared past 300,000. His career was safe.
Bob Krasnow, a Warner executive known for his off-the-wall ideas, came up with the idea of Randy doing a live album, which was largely unprecedented for an artist like Newman without any hit singles or even a touring history. But Krasnow’s plan also included a teasing bit of subterfuge. Warner would package and promote the live album as a bootleg to make it appear that music had been leaked by someone who had gained secret access to the tapes.
Bootlegs had become an underground sensation a few months earlier after Great White Wonder, a collection of unreleased Bob Dylan material, suddenly appeared at swap meets and in small indie record shops without the knowledge or permission of his record label. Even though the Newman LP would list Reprise Records on the cover, the ragged, no-frills design would give the illusion of something outside the normal music business machinery. And it worked.
The response was over whelming when the label sent promo copies of the live album to critics and radio station program directors, inferring that this was something for their ears, not meant for commercial release. Typical of the enthusiasm, Rolling Stone reviewed the promo LP and urged Warner to formally put it out.
As if bowing to pressure, Warner then released the album in the bootleg packaging. Between the reviews, the air play and the faux bootleg packaging. Sales topped 50,000. The atmosphere in the studio for his next album was brightened by knowing an audience was finally building and Randy responded with his finest album yet, Sail Away. Sales soared past 300,000. His career was safe.
Randy Newman's Pop Music Influences
Randy Newman’s musical roots are in classical music, which he studied from childhood through composition classes at UCLA, but he has also embraced a wide range of pop styles and artists,from country to jazz. Two figures from valuable Black music strains, however, stand out. Fats Domino didn’t look like a teen idol in the 1950s, but his warm, infectious sound struck Randy with the same life-changing force that millions of teens attributed to Elvis and the Beatles.
Domino was a key part of the 1950s rock and roll revolution, but the roly-poly, five-foot-five New Orleans-native did not offer a trace of the music’s overriding rebellion in his feel-good mix of Louisiana shuffle, boogie-woogie, R&B and even occasionally country and Cajun. Where rival rocker Little Richard kicked his piano bench out of the way on stage so he could stand up and pound the keys while screaming the lyrics to “Tutti Frutti,” Domino sat politely, smiling warmly at the audience as he gently swayed from side to side as he played such winning hits as “Blueberry Hill” and “Poor Me.”
Domino’s influence on Randy was multi-level. Early on, Randy played Fat’s songs on the piano during breaks from Brahms, Mozart, and Beethoven. Later, his vocal style would reflect elements of Domino’s conversational drawl, and his eventual performance style would reflect Domino’s anti-flamboyance. The latter was in keeping with what Randy’s uncles told him about always letting the music speak for itself—don’t hype in interviews or in performances.
The only other artist to touch Newman as deeply was Ray Charles, who studied classical piano at a school for blind children in Florida. Charles showed up on the R&B charts in the early 1950s with records that were covered years later by Elvis Presley, Bobby Darin, and other white artists. With the shout-and-response vitality of “I Got a Woman” in the mid-1950s, But The Genius of Ray Charles album sealed the deal for Newman.
The LP was compelling on several levels as Charles boldly mixed several R&B numbers with orchestra-led versions of some pop standards, including Johnny Mercer and Harold Arlen’s “Come Rain or Come Shine,” and numbers associated with Louis Jordan, the Black bandleader who had the talent and vision in the 1930s to mix jazz, swing, blues, and boogie-woogie and then top it off with a comic flair. In Charles’ hands, “Let the Good Times Roll” and “Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Crying’” two of Jordan’s signature numbers, felt right at home among the more pop-styled songs. Charles went even further three years later by releasing two widely influential collections of country songs by such writers as Hank Williams (“You Win Again”) and Don Gibson (“I Can’t Stop Loving You”).
Newman wasn’t interested in updating old songs in his own career, but he learned a lesson that would prove crucial. As a songwriter and record-maker, he wouldn’t limit himself to a single music genre. He wanted to be free to draw upon elements from any source—classical music, pop standards, R&B, Broadway, rock, and film, but he never forgot the lessons he learned from Charles.
“I loved Ray Charles and I still do,” Newman said. “I felt he always went to the right place, whatever he was doing with the song, singing, or playing the piano, He made you feel the song and that’s the most important thing in what we do. You’ve got to make the listener feel what you are saying is authentic.”
Domino was a key part of the 1950s rock and roll revolution, but the roly-poly, five-foot-five New Orleans-native did not offer a trace of the music’s overriding rebellion in his feel-good mix of Louisiana shuffle, boogie-woogie, R&B and even occasionally country and Cajun. Where rival rocker Little Richard kicked his piano bench out of the way on stage so he could stand up and pound the keys while screaming the lyrics to “Tutti Frutti,” Domino sat politely, smiling warmly at the audience as he gently swayed from side to side as he played such winning hits as “Blueberry Hill” and “Poor Me.”
Domino’s influence on Randy was multi-level. Early on, Randy played Fat’s songs on the piano during breaks from Brahms, Mozart, and Beethoven. Later, his vocal style would reflect elements of Domino’s conversational drawl, and his eventual performance style would reflect Domino’s anti-flamboyance. The latter was in keeping with what Randy’s uncles told him about always letting the music speak for itself—don’t hype in interviews or in performances.
The only other artist to touch Newman as deeply was Ray Charles, who studied classical piano at a school for blind children in Florida. Charles showed up on the R&B charts in the early 1950s with records that were covered years later by Elvis Presley, Bobby Darin, and other white artists. With the shout-and-response vitality of “I Got a Woman” in the mid-1950s, But The Genius of Ray Charles album sealed the deal for Newman.
The LP was compelling on several levels as Charles boldly mixed several R&B numbers with orchestra-led versions of some pop standards, including Johnny Mercer and Harold Arlen’s “Come Rain or Come Shine,” and numbers associated with Louis Jordan, the Black bandleader who had the talent and vision in the 1930s to mix jazz, swing, blues, and boogie-woogie and then top it off with a comic flair. In Charles’ hands, “Let the Good Times Roll” and “Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Crying’” two of Jordan’s signature numbers, felt right at home among the more pop-styled songs. Charles went even further three years later by releasing two widely influential collections of country songs by such writers as Hank Williams (“You Win Again”) and Don Gibson (“I Can’t Stop Loving You”).
Newman wasn’t interested in updating old songs in his own career, but he learned a lesson that would prove crucial. As a songwriter and record-maker, he wouldn’t limit himself to a single music genre. He wanted to be free to draw upon elements from any source—classical music, pop standards, R&B, Broadway, rock, and film, but he never forgot the lessons he learned from Charles.
“I loved Ray Charles and I still do,” Newman said. “I felt he always went to the right place, whatever he was doing with the song, singing, or playing the piano, He made you feel the song and that’s the most important thing in what we do. You’ve got to make the listener feel what you are saying is authentic.”
Randy Newman and the Award-Winning Film Music
When Rand Newman awoke on his fifth birthday in the family’s apartment across from Beverly Hills High School, the surprise present that his father, Irving, had slipped into the room overnight told him a lot about how he would spend the rest of his life: a brown upright piano.
Growing up Randy had heard countless tales about the legendary role his uncles played in Hollywood film music. Alfred Newman, the most notable, received forty-five Academy Award nominations and won a record nine Oscars. Randy’s father wanted him to follow in his uncles’ footsteps, and Randy dutifully began preparing himself, studying classical piano lessons and taking musical composition courses at UCLA. In time, however, the idea of a career in film music became increasingly daunting as Randy realized the expectations he’d have to meet.
Gradually, pop music became an increasingly attractive alternative he switched his focus
to pop music, where he began making acclaimed albums in 1968, concentrating on songs that
decried what he saw as defects in the American character, from racism to homophobia. It wasn’t until 1988 that he had the confidence to commit himself to film music. At that point, he had only written three film scores in twenty years. Over the next twenty, he would write eighteen and a musical.
Newman met the family's expectations. He received twenty-two Oscar nominations and won two Oscars for such films as The Natural and Marriage Story, and the phenomenal Toy Story series. He has been able to excel in both film and pop music because he brings a sophistication and sweep to his songs that far exceeds the three-chord playbook followed by most pop and rock songwriters; it has been said he plays an orchestra the way Hendrix played a guitar.
Randy loved working with orchestras in films, but he felt the songs in his albums were ultimately more important, the songs about conditions in the country. Re-focusing on pop in the late 1990s when he was nearing sixty, an age when most of the best songwriters are long past their peak, he delivered three albums—Bad Love, Harps and Angels and Dark Matter—that reflected the commentary and ambition of his best early work. He had exceeded all family
expectations.
Growing up Randy had heard countless tales about the legendary role his uncles played in Hollywood film music. Alfred Newman, the most notable, received forty-five Academy Award nominations and won a record nine Oscars. Randy’s father wanted him to follow in his uncles’ footsteps, and Randy dutifully began preparing himself, studying classical piano lessons and taking musical composition courses at UCLA. In time, however, the idea of a career in film music became increasingly daunting as Randy realized the expectations he’d have to meet.
Gradually, pop music became an increasingly attractive alternative he switched his focus
to pop music, where he began making acclaimed albums in 1968, concentrating on songs that
decried what he saw as defects in the American character, from racism to homophobia. It wasn’t until 1988 that he had the confidence to commit himself to film music. At that point, he had only written three film scores in twenty years. Over the next twenty, he would write eighteen and a musical.
Newman met the family's expectations. He received twenty-two Oscar nominations and won two Oscars for such films as The Natural and Marriage Story, and the phenomenal Toy Story series. He has been able to excel in both film and pop music because he brings a sophistication and sweep to his songs that far exceeds the three-chord playbook followed by most pop and rock songwriters; it has been said he plays an orchestra the way Hendrix played a guitar.
Randy loved working with orchestras in films, but he felt the songs in his albums were ultimately more important, the songs about conditions in the country. Re-focusing on pop in the late 1990s when he was nearing sixty, an age when most of the best songwriters are long past their peak, he delivered three albums—Bad Love, Harps and Angels and Dark Matter—that reflected the commentary and ambition of his best early work. He had exceeded all family
expectations.
The Remarkable Randy Newman and Lenny Warnoker Connection
The nearly eighty-year relationship of Randy Newman and Lenny Warnoker may be the most unusual - and inspiring - of any in pop history. It's no wonder they can't remember at time when they weren't together. They were age one (Randy) and three when they met at a welcome home party in 1945 when Randy's father, Irving, returned from his service as a doctor during World War II. They soon both lived in houses a few doors apart in the fashionable Los Angeles neighborhood of Pacific Palisades and they got together most afternoons as children to play two-man baseball games in Newman's back yard.
Randy was born into a musical family. His uncles - Alfred, Lionel, and Emil Newman - were royalty in film music for decades, a reign that stretched from the early days of the talkies in the 1930s through the 1960s. Alfred, the most notable, received forty-five Academy Award nominations and a record nine Oscars. From childhood, Randy was expected to follow in his uncle's footsteps.
Lenny's father, a former film studio violinist named Si Warnoker, founded Liberty Records in the mid-50s, an indie label that progressed well enough in its first decade in the areas of mainstream pop (Julie London's "Cry Me a River") and goofy novelty (The Chipmunks' "The Chipmunk Song"). Lenny wanted to follow his father into the record business, not as a songwriter or performer, but behind-the-scenes, finding and nurturing talent.
Even as a teen-ager, Lenny marveled at Randy's musical skills. Listening to songs that were being sent to Liberty by publishers, Lenny became convinced that Randy could do better. He began urging Randy to take time from Beethoven and Mozart to write some pop songs - and the timing coincided with Randy feeling increasingly intimidated by the prospect of having to live up to his uncles' success in film music. "when I was still a kid, I'd see my uncle Al working on a picture and see him really moaning and groaning," he said. "And this is what really got me: He'd play something and ask, "What do you thing of this?' Here was this great composer and he was not secure with his writing. How could I ever do anything good if it was this fucking hard?"
Pop music was less frightening territory for Randy than film scoring and, crucially, he knew he'd always have Lenny by his side to reassure him. "When I started pop songs, I would write something and think, 'Oh, that's good,' only to get down on it soon after that," Randy said. "But I would talk to Lenny and I'd get up again because he like it. He was my ambition and my courage. He was my backbone. It's not so that (pop songs) seemed easier than doing films, it was just there. when Lenny suggested I try and write some songs, that was the start really. He believed in me before I believed in myself. When I started, I didn't have much confidence or motivation, but I had him and that meant everything."
Lenny, who had such faith in Randy's talent that he would eventually not be the least self-conscious about comparing him to George Gershwin and other classic American songwriters - devoted himself to opening doors him: first a songwriting contract from Liberty's publishing wing when Randy was 19, then a recording contract at Warner Bros. Records (where Lenny would eventually serve as label president), then as producer or co-producer of most of Randy's studio albums.
And the relationship was still strong in 2024.
Randy Newman's fashionable two-story home boasts a backyard music studio, a pool, and lovely grounds, but the feature that struck most visitors is the site was only 400 yards from his childhood home - and he and Lenny, who lives nearby - still get together regularly to watch sports or movies on television or just talk about the things that friends talk about.
Afternoon after afternoon, these two old friends still together, each hoping for the moment Randy makes another album. In the comfort and optimism of the den, both men seemed to believe it was going to happen. And why not? The prospect was no more unlikely than the journey that had brought them this far.
Randy was born into a musical family. His uncles - Alfred, Lionel, and Emil Newman - were royalty in film music for decades, a reign that stretched from the early days of the talkies in the 1930s through the 1960s. Alfred, the most notable, received forty-five Academy Award nominations and a record nine Oscars. From childhood, Randy was expected to follow in his uncle's footsteps.
Lenny's father, a former film studio violinist named Si Warnoker, founded Liberty Records in the mid-50s, an indie label that progressed well enough in its first decade in the areas of mainstream pop (Julie London's "Cry Me a River") and goofy novelty (The Chipmunks' "The Chipmunk Song"). Lenny wanted to follow his father into the record business, not as a songwriter or performer, but behind-the-scenes, finding and nurturing talent.
Even as a teen-ager, Lenny marveled at Randy's musical skills. Listening to songs that were being sent to Liberty by publishers, Lenny became convinced that Randy could do better. He began urging Randy to take time from Beethoven and Mozart to write some pop songs - and the timing coincided with Randy feeling increasingly intimidated by the prospect of having to live up to his uncles' success in film music. "when I was still a kid, I'd see my uncle Al working on a picture and see him really moaning and groaning," he said. "And this is what really got me: He'd play something and ask, "What do you thing of this?' Here was this great composer and he was not secure with his writing. How could I ever do anything good if it was this fucking hard?"
Pop music was less frightening territory for Randy than film scoring and, crucially, he knew he'd always have Lenny by his side to reassure him. "When I started pop songs, I would write something and think, 'Oh, that's good,' only to get down on it soon after that," Randy said. "But I would talk to Lenny and I'd get up again because he like it. He was my ambition and my courage. He was my backbone. It's not so that (pop songs) seemed easier than doing films, it was just there. when Lenny suggested I try and write some songs, that was the start really. He believed in me before I believed in myself. When I started, I didn't have much confidence or motivation, but I had him and that meant everything."
Lenny, who had such faith in Randy's talent that he would eventually not be the least self-conscious about comparing him to George Gershwin and other classic American songwriters - devoted himself to opening doors him: first a songwriting contract from Liberty's publishing wing when Randy was 19, then a recording contract at Warner Bros. Records (where Lenny would eventually serve as label president), then as producer or co-producer of most of Randy's studio albums.
And the relationship was still strong in 2024.
Randy Newman's fashionable two-story home boasts a backyard music studio, a pool, and lovely grounds, but the feature that struck most visitors is the site was only 400 yards from his childhood home - and he and Lenny, who lives nearby - still get together regularly to watch sports or movies on television or just talk about the things that friends talk about.
Afternoon after afternoon, these two old friends still together, each hoping for the moment Randy makes another album. In the comfort and optimism of the den, both men seemed to believe it was going to happen. And why not? The prospect was no more unlikely than the journey that had brought them this far.
The Lingering Question about "Short People"
The outrageously funny "Short People" was a last-minute addition to Randy Newman's "Little Criminals" album that proved to be a blessing commercially, but a curse personally. Decades after the 1977 single became his only Top 10 single, pop fans still ask if the song was written as an attack on prejudice or if it was simply blatantly insensitive. Sample Lyrics:
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That got beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
Radio stations in various cities, including New York and Philadelphia, initially refused to play the record. Entertainment Weekly reported that "Undersized listeners flew into a tizzy... midgets picketed Newman's concerts," the lobbying group Little People of America decried the song's crassness and the founder of Shorties Are Smarter called it "vicious." In Maryland, Isaiah Dixon, Jr., a respected state legislator who fought strongly for human rights issues including making cross burning a felony int he state, tried to get "Short People" banned from Maryland airwaves.
Even the three principals involved in recording the song viewed the song differently decades later as demonstrated by this interview with Randy and record producers, Lenny Warnoker and Russ Titelman, for my biography of Randy (A Few Words in Defense of Our Country).
RN: "Lenny didn't like it particularly, I could tell. He hasn't laughed at the song yet."
LW: "I was hoping for an up-tempo song and we got it, but I feared, because of the subject matter, that it wasn't really the kind of up-tempo song we were really hoping for. That's why I didn't laugh."
RT: "I loved it. I thought it was one of the funniest things I had ever heard. I had to hold my stomach I was laughing so hard."
RN: "Not everybody laughed."
RT: "I didn't even think of it (being politically incorrect). My reaction was strictly emotional. I was howling with laughter.
LW: "I got a phone call from Russ probably 30 minutes after I first heard it and Russ said exactly that. I think I said, 'Yeah, it's fun." But I just worried about what people would think."
RN: "And you were right. It was a problem for a lot of people. Radio stations worried about it."
LW: "I have letters that I have framed - people complaining. Steve Ross got them too. Steve was saying, 'What's going on here?'"
RT: "We got death threats at the label."
So, what was Randy's original intent?
RN: "I would go along with whatever people thought about the song when I was asked about it. For instance, a radio guy said, 'The song's all about prejudice, isn't it?' And I said, 'Yeah.' But it wasn't at the beginning. I just thought it was funny and it was. I wrote it because we needed an up song."
In a separate interview, Warnoker questioned Randy's remark about the song just being humorous: Everything he writes has multi-levels and sometimes Randy doesn't want to appear pretentious or too serious and he kinda downplays things."
Behind the Humor of Randy Newman
Randy Newman is the master of an art form - humor - that has all but disappeared in pop music, except for occasional parodies. Wry, wise, and winning, Newman's humor comes at you from all sorts of surprising directions - it can make you smile and it can make you laugh out loud. Sometimes he's just having fun with a song, but mostly he's using humor to help illuminate his views on shortcomings in the American character. He also felt humor, satire, and irony would make his judgments feel less pedantic.
The humor came naturally. Randy's brother Alan says he had a strong sense of jocularity from childhood on, including strange things that would often exasperate people. When Randy was about twelve, he took all his presents into the family bathroom on Christmas morning and locked the door behind him. Then he started "oohing" and "aahing" loudly as he opened each one, leaving those outside trying to figure out which ones he liked.
In school, Randy once came up with a cock and bull story about how he couldn't do a homework paper because his family couldn't afford a typewriter Alan said, adding, 'When my parents went to open house, the teacher said, 'Oh, you poor people. Randy told me about your problems' - or something to that effect. My parents at the time, no doubt, dressed to the nines."
And, there was the time that Randy had so much trouble finding a parking spot in UCLA's notoriously overcrowded campus lots that he bought a plastic Jesus, put in on the dashboard and parked the car in a nearby church lot. It worked fine until someone stole the car.
When asked to write a song for Frank Sinatra in the early 1970s, Randy didn't try to flatter the singer's debonair, playboy image, in "lonely at the Top"; he flat-out mocked it. No wonder Sinatra passed on recording the tune.
I've been around the world
Had my pick of any girl
You'd think I'd be happy
But I'm not
Ev'rybody knows my name
But it's just a a crazy game
Oh, it's lonely at the top
A world away from the sophistication and style of "Lonely at the Top," Randy gave us some of his funniest images in the biggest pop hit "Short People," a song so politically incorrect that most record companies might not even release it today. The lyrics in part:
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
He also employed humor in "I'm Dreaming," a song - patterned after Irving Berlin's deeply sentimental "White Christmas" - about a racial prejudice he saw facing President Barack Obama. "Early on in Obama's term, there was heat generated by issues that you wouldn't think would cause such passion," he explained to Slate. "Even the term 'Obamacare,' the way it's spit out, like he was some kind of witch doctor."
As the re-election campaign neared in 2012, Newman released - again using the unreliable narrator approac to express a racist voter's embrace of Obama's opponent.
So he won't run the hundred in ten seconds flat
So he won't have a pretty jump shot, or be an Olympic acrobat
So he won't know much about global warming
Is that really where you're at?
He won't be the brightest, perhaps
But he'll be the whitest
And I'll vote for that
"I'm Dreaming" was released as a single, accompanied by humorous and pointed video showing most of the country's white presidents.
Humor is rarely heard in pop music because it is so difficult to employ effectively, especially when dealing with significant subject matter. It's such a delicate, creative balance that no one has come close to matching Newman in the rock era and it would be surprising if anyone ever will.
The humor came naturally. Randy's brother Alan says he had a strong sense of jocularity from childhood on, including strange things that would often exasperate people. When Randy was about twelve, he took all his presents into the family bathroom on Christmas morning and locked the door behind him. Then he started "oohing" and "aahing" loudly as he opened each one, leaving those outside trying to figure out which ones he liked.
In school, Randy once came up with a cock and bull story about how he couldn't do a homework paper because his family couldn't afford a typewriter Alan said, adding, 'When my parents went to open house, the teacher said, 'Oh, you poor people. Randy told me about your problems' - or something to that effect. My parents at the time, no doubt, dressed to the nines."
And, there was the time that Randy had so much trouble finding a parking spot in UCLA's notoriously overcrowded campus lots that he bought a plastic Jesus, put in on the dashboard and parked the car in a nearby church lot. It worked fine until someone stole the car.
When asked to write a song for Frank Sinatra in the early 1970s, Randy didn't try to flatter the singer's debonair, playboy image, in "lonely at the Top"; he flat-out mocked it. No wonder Sinatra passed on recording the tune.
I've been around the world
Had my pick of any girl
You'd think I'd be happy
But I'm not
Ev'rybody knows my name
But it's just a a crazy game
Oh, it's lonely at the top
A world away from the sophistication and style of "Lonely at the Top," Randy gave us some of his funniest images in the biggest pop hit "Short People," a song so politically incorrect that most record companies might not even release it today. The lyrics in part:
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
He also employed humor in "I'm Dreaming," a song - patterned after Irving Berlin's deeply sentimental "White Christmas" - about a racial prejudice he saw facing President Barack Obama. "Early on in Obama's term, there was heat generated by issues that you wouldn't think would cause such passion," he explained to Slate. "Even the term 'Obamacare,' the way it's spit out, like he was some kind of witch doctor."
As the re-election campaign neared in 2012, Newman released - again using the unreliable narrator approac to express a racist voter's embrace of Obama's opponent.
So he won't run the hundred in ten seconds flat
So he won't have a pretty jump shot, or be an Olympic acrobat
So he won't know much about global warming
Is that really where you're at?
He won't be the brightest, perhaps
But he'll be the whitest
And I'll vote for that
"I'm Dreaming" was released as a single, accompanied by humorous and pointed video showing most of the country's white presidents.
Humor is rarely heard in pop music because it is so difficult to employ effectively, especially when dealing with significant subject matter. It's such a delicate, creative balance that no one has come close to matching Newman in the rock era and it would be surprising if anyone ever will.
Sampling of the Dozens of Randy Newman Songs That Address The Socio-Political Problems Dividing America in 2024
Bitterness Over Ethnic Changing Neighborhoods: "Mikey" (1983) - A bartender complains to a customer about how the neighborhood has changed, disliking even the new music, wishing for the old days.
North Beach has changed though
Since we were growin’ up
Didn’t used to be any spades here, now you got 'em
Didn’t used to be any Mexicans here, now you got 'em
Didn’t used to be any Chinamen here
Didn’t used to be this ugly music playing all the time
Where are we, on the moon?
Whatever happened to the old songs,
Mikey?
Like the Duke of Earl
The irony of the bartender longing for "Duke of Earl" is sublime - the song, of course, was recorded and co-written in 1961 by Gene Chandler, the stage name of Eugene Dixon, a black man.
Reassessing Actions in America's Past: "The Great Nations of Europe" (1999) - A lengthy historical narrative that addresses the destructive impact of European imperialism on countries around the world, a subject that would become and increasing part of the national socio-political dialogue in the 2000s.
Columbus sailed for India
Found Salvador instead
He shook hands with some Indians and soon they all were dead
They got TB and typhoid and athlete’s foot
Diphtheria and the flu
Excuse me – Great nations coming through
Anti-Immigration Forces: "Laugh and Be Happy" (2008) - A pep talk for the anxious underdog/underclass immigrants facing hostility in the U.S. Smile right in their face / Cause pretty soon / You're gonna take their place.Racism: "Rednecks" (1972) - a song whose language was so fiercely defiant it will stands as one of the most explosive slices of social commentary ever released by a major record label in America. It was an attack on racism, North and South, with special emphasis on the way many Blacks have been relegated to ghettos for several generations in big cities in the North.
Military Aggression: "Political Science" (1972) - a Dr. Strangelove-like sendup of military hawks and conservative isolationism that drew more laughs with each outlandish verse:
Asia's crowded and Europe's too old
Africa is far too hot
And Canada's too cold
And South America stole our name
Let's drop the big one
There'll be no one left to blame us
Unequal Justice: "Louisiana 1927" (1974) - The power of this song is that it sidestepped the concentration on personal struggle in the earlier tunes about the great floods of New Orleans to confront the factors surrounding the flood, including politics and race. This would give the song a deep relevance, making it, after Katrina, the state's unofficial anthem. Randy speaks for all the Louisiana flood victims - any anyone - who felt they had been sacrificed by the federal government and even their local public officials: They're trying to wash us away.
Class Snobbery and Greed: "My Life Is Good" (1983) - is one of Newman's most inspired mixtures of humor and social observation, a song that combined elements of greed, class snobbery and privilege. The arrogant tone of the song's character gives the primary verses and extra sting. The lyrics, in part:
The other afternoon
My wife and I
Took a little ride into
Beverly Hills
Went to the private school
Our oldest child attends
Many famous people send their children there
This teacher says to us
“We have a problem here
This child just will not do
A thing I tell him to
And he’s such a big old thing
He hurts the other children
All the games they play, he plays so rough
Hold it teacher
Wait a minute
Maybe my hears are clogged or somethin’
Maybe I’m not understanding
The English language
Dear, you don’t seem to realize
My Life Is Good
My Life Is Good
My Life Is Good, you old bag
My Life, My Life
"The guy in 'My Life is Good' doesn't know he's an asshole and that his wife and kids would be climbing the walls," Randy said. "On one hand, he's an unreliable narrator, but he is also reliable. He doesn't know he is hurting people to some degree. I like that kind of mixture in pop songs; it's something else I had read in books.
North Beach has changed though
Since we were growin’ up
Didn’t used to be any spades here, now you got 'em
Didn’t used to be any Mexicans here, now you got 'em
Didn’t used to be any Chinamen here
Didn’t used to be this ugly music playing all the time
Where are we, on the moon?
Whatever happened to the old songs,
Mikey?
Like the Duke of Earl
The irony of the bartender longing for "Duke of Earl" is sublime - the song, of course, was recorded and co-written in 1961 by Gene Chandler, the stage name of Eugene Dixon, a black man.
Reassessing Actions in America's Past: "The Great Nations of Europe" (1999) - A lengthy historical narrative that addresses the destructive impact of European imperialism on countries around the world, a subject that would become and increasing part of the national socio-political dialogue in the 2000s.
Columbus sailed for India
Found Salvador instead
He shook hands with some Indians and soon they all were dead
They got TB and typhoid and athlete’s foot
Diphtheria and the flu
Excuse me – Great nations coming through
Anti-Immigration Forces: "Laugh and Be Happy" (2008) - A pep talk for the anxious underdog/underclass immigrants facing hostility in the U.S. Smile right in their face / Cause pretty soon / You're gonna take their place.Racism: "Rednecks" (1972) - a song whose language was so fiercely defiant it will stands as one of the most explosive slices of social commentary ever released by a major record label in America. It was an attack on racism, North and South, with special emphasis on the way many Blacks have been relegated to ghettos for several generations in big cities in the North.
Military Aggression: "Political Science" (1972) - a Dr. Strangelove-like sendup of military hawks and conservative isolationism that drew more laughs with each outlandish verse:
Asia's crowded and Europe's too old
Africa is far too hot
And Canada's too cold
And South America stole our name
Let's drop the big one
There'll be no one left to blame us
Unequal Justice: "Louisiana 1927" (1974) - The power of this song is that it sidestepped the concentration on personal struggle in the earlier tunes about the great floods of New Orleans to confront the factors surrounding the flood, including politics and race. This would give the song a deep relevance, making it, after Katrina, the state's unofficial anthem. Randy speaks for all the Louisiana flood victims - any anyone - who felt they had been sacrificed by the federal government and even their local public officials: They're trying to wash us away.
Class Snobbery and Greed: "My Life Is Good" (1983) - is one of Newman's most inspired mixtures of humor and social observation, a song that combined elements of greed, class snobbery and privilege. The arrogant tone of the song's character gives the primary verses and extra sting. The lyrics, in part:
The other afternoon
My wife and I
Took a little ride into
Beverly Hills
Went to the private school
Our oldest child attends
Many famous people send their children there
This teacher says to us
“We have a problem here
This child just will not do
A thing I tell him to
And he’s such a big old thing
He hurts the other children
All the games they play, he plays so rough
Hold it teacher
Wait a minute
Maybe my hears are clogged or somethin’
Maybe I’m not understanding
The English language
Dear, you don’t seem to realize
My Life Is Good
My Life Is Good
My Life Is Good, you old bag
My Life, My Life
"The guy in 'My Life is Good' doesn't know he's an asshole and that his wife and kids would be climbing the walls," Randy said. "On one hand, he's an unreliable narrator, but he is also reliable. He doesn't know he is hurting people to some degree. I like that kind of mixture in pop songs; it's something else I had read in books.
Behind Randy Newman's "I Love L.A."
Randy's "I Love L.A." grew out of a conversation with Don Henley, a friend who would later induct Randy into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. While talking about all the cities with pop theme songs, the Eagles co-founder suggested that Randy would be the perfect person to write a theme for the City of Angels. Randy didn't think much of the idea. He wasn't a fan of the swagger and braggadocio of city salutes, especially the Sinatra hit "New York, New York." "You can't write a sort of worshipful song about an American city today," he told me. "If asked to write a song about, say, Sacramento, I could do it, but I'd have to lie."
Eventually, however, the idea of a Los Angeles theme song intrigued him - at least a theme with the usual Newman twist. The song's narrator falls so completely for the feel-good imagery of his city (the miles of beach, the near constant sunshine, and the seemingly endless parade of pretty women) that he is oblivious to the city's problems; he sees a bum on his knees as party of the city's charm. Newman's point about homelessness and poverty in paradise was slipped into the cheerful sing-along with such subtlety-just twelve words-that it's easy to miss, but it is a memorable slice of Newman satire.
Discussing the 1983 song in an interview for my biography of him (A Few words in Defense of Our Country), Newman spoke fondly of his home town, but he meant the lyrics to be pointed. "The guy in the song is sort of aggressively ignorant," he said. "He thinks the great thing about the city is rolling down Imperial Highway in a convertible with his redhead at his side. To him, everything is so great that he doesn't really see things at all. he doesn't distinguish between 'that mountain...those trees...that bum down on his knees.' The truth is, Imperial Highway is kind of a shitty street. In fact, all the streets in the song are kind of shitty, undistinguished. There's nothing taller on Imperial Highway than I am."
Henley applauded the song. "Like a lot of Randy's songs, 'I Love L.A.' has been widely misunderstood." he told me. It has that quality, that contradictory element. It's a send-up; it's a take-down. It's a satirical song - good-natured mocking disguised as a song of praise and delivered with tongue-firmly-in-cheek. It's a reflection of the classis "love-hate" relationship that so many of us have with our home cities, and by extension, America itself.
The video of "I Love L.A." picked up lots of MTV airplay, but the song's full impact wasn't felt until the following year when Los Angeles hosted the 1984 Summer Olympics. Nike bought the rights to some scenes for use in a high-profile ad whose visibility made "I Love L.A." known around the world and so popular in Los Angeles that the song was celebrated as an unofficial city anthem. decades later, it would still be played at virtually every professional sporting event in Los Angeles, including Dodgers, Lakers and Rams.
Eventually, however, the idea of a Los Angeles theme song intrigued him - at least a theme with the usual Newman twist. The song's narrator falls so completely for the feel-good imagery of his city (the miles of beach, the near constant sunshine, and the seemingly endless parade of pretty women) that he is oblivious to the city's problems; he sees a bum on his knees as party of the city's charm. Newman's point about homelessness and poverty in paradise was slipped into the cheerful sing-along with such subtlety-just twelve words-that it's easy to miss, but it is a memorable slice of Newman satire.
Discussing the 1983 song in an interview for my biography of him (A Few words in Defense of Our Country), Newman spoke fondly of his home town, but he meant the lyrics to be pointed. "The guy in the song is sort of aggressively ignorant," he said. "He thinks the great thing about the city is rolling down Imperial Highway in a convertible with his redhead at his side. To him, everything is so great that he doesn't really see things at all. he doesn't distinguish between 'that mountain...those trees...that bum down on his knees.' The truth is, Imperial Highway is kind of a shitty street. In fact, all the streets in the song are kind of shitty, undistinguished. There's nothing taller on Imperial Highway than I am."
Henley applauded the song. "Like a lot of Randy's songs, 'I Love L.A.' has been widely misunderstood." he told me. It has that quality, that contradictory element. It's a send-up; it's a take-down. It's a satirical song - good-natured mocking disguised as a song of praise and delivered with tongue-firmly-in-cheek. It's a reflection of the classis "love-hate" relationship that so many of us have with our home cities, and by extension, America itself.
The video of "I Love L.A." picked up lots of MTV airplay, but the song's full impact wasn't felt until the following year when Los Angeles hosted the 1984 Summer Olympics. Nike bought the rights to some scenes for use in a high-profile ad whose visibility made "I Love L.A." known around the world and so popular in Los Angeles that the song was celebrated as an unofficial city anthem. decades later, it would still be played at virtually every professional sporting event in Los Angeles, including Dodgers, Lakers and Rams.
What Most Pop Fans Will Be Surprised To Learn From The Book About Randy Newman
Millions around the world can hum "You've Got a Friend in Me," Newman's disarming composition for Toy Story, but most would be amazed to know that the heart of his legacy is in the dozes of brilliant songs detailing the injustices, from racism to economic disparity, that have contributed to the United States being as divided as any time since the Civil Warm. No major pop figure of his generation has written about America's socio-political shortcomings more purposefully or consistently as Newman. Rolling Stone has declared that a single Newman song, "Sail Away," tells us more about America than "The Star-Spangled Banner."
When the national debate over fundamental human values led more that two thousand extremists to storm the U.S. Capitol in 2021 after President Donald Trump's failed re-election bid, horrified Americans asked themselves how their country could have gotten to this point. Much can be learned from what Newman's most insightful songs had been warning us about for fifty rears.
"I've always gone against the two things that sell 90 per cent of the records in America," he says. "It's kinda like I came across a fork in the highway and took another road-away from how the medium has been used for a thousand years. I don't write love songs and I don't write in the first person. It's not what interests me. The songs are about things that need to be noticed, places like ghettos and slums that should shame everyone. It hurts to see people living like that in this rich country, where the fact that one zip code entitles you to better medical care and the wrong one can be a death sentence."
Randy was 28 in 1972 when he wrote "Rednecks," a song whose language was so fiercely defiant it still stands as one of the most explosive slices of social commentary ever released by a major record label in America.
Ever since, Newman has written about what he sees in America's shortcomings with such storytelling richness and sharply drawn vignettes that he seemed to be a novelist living in a musician's body; music critics and cultural commentators frequently refer to novelists when describing Newman's approach, and it's significant that they reach as high as Mark Twain and William Faulkner to convey his originality and depth.
Newman's focus goes beyond race. In a dozen studio albums, he has also examined a wide range of social ills, including sexism, economic injustice, homophobia, mistreatment of immigrants and other targets which helped stretch the boundaries of pop.
Inducting Newman into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, Don Henley declared, "Employing lyrics that are eloquent in their simplicity and set in a wide-ranging musical landscape, Randy has chronicled both the hypocritical and the honorable traits of our culture, often with dark and biting humor, but always with compassion and empathy for the human condition."
When the national debate over fundamental human values led more that two thousand extremists to storm the U.S. Capitol in 2021 after President Donald Trump's failed re-election bid, horrified Americans asked themselves how their country could have gotten to this point. Much can be learned from what Newman's most insightful songs had been warning us about for fifty rears.
"I've always gone against the two things that sell 90 per cent of the records in America," he says. "It's kinda like I came across a fork in the highway and took another road-away from how the medium has been used for a thousand years. I don't write love songs and I don't write in the first person. It's not what interests me. The songs are about things that need to be noticed, places like ghettos and slums that should shame everyone. It hurts to see people living like that in this rich country, where the fact that one zip code entitles you to better medical care and the wrong one can be a death sentence."
Randy was 28 in 1972 when he wrote "Rednecks," a song whose language was so fiercely defiant it still stands as one of the most explosive slices of social commentary ever released by a major record label in America.
Ever since, Newman has written about what he sees in America's shortcomings with such storytelling richness and sharply drawn vignettes that he seemed to be a novelist living in a musician's body; music critics and cultural commentators frequently refer to novelists when describing Newman's approach, and it's significant that they reach as high as Mark Twain and William Faulkner to convey his originality and depth.
Newman's focus goes beyond race. In a dozen studio albums, he has also examined a wide range of social ills, including sexism, economic injustice, homophobia, mistreatment of immigrants and other targets which helped stretch the boundaries of pop.
Inducting Newman into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, Don Henley declared, "Employing lyrics that are eloquent in their simplicity and set in a wide-ranging musical landscape, Randy has chronicled both the hypocritical and the honorable traits of our culture, often with dark and biting humor, but always with compassion and empathy for the human condition."
Why Randy Newman?
Randy Newman has long been high on my short list of great American songwriters ever, but the main reason I wanted to write his biography is the uniqueness of his music. No one has written more purposefully and consistently about the socio-political problems dividing the nation than Newman.
He may be best known for "You've Got a Friend in Me," his disarming composition for Toy Story, or the cheerful lilt of "I Love L.A.," but the heart of his legacy is in the dozens of brilliant compositions detailing the injustices, from racism to economic disparity, that have contributed to the United States being as divided as any time since the Civil War.
"The songs are about things that need to be noticed, places like ghettos and slums that should shame everyone," he told me. "it hurts to see people living like that in this rich country, where the fact that one zip code entitles you to a better medical care and the wrong one can be a death sentence."
But racism isn't Newman's only target. He has written with equal insight and passion about a score of other issues, from sexism to homophobia in immigration hostility and flat-out human cruelty - and his writing style is as unique in pop as his subject matter.
Rather than the first-person pronouncements that have long been the blue-print of protest music, Newman uses a device he had seen in literature, the unreliable narrator. He assumes the role of a character to express the harmful views of that person, feeling the absurdity of the words is the best way to combat the viewpoint.
In addition to his art, Randy’s personal story is also fascinating. After being intimidated for years about following his famous uncles, Alfred and Lionel Newman, into film music (as was expected of him), he turned to pop music, where he built enough confidence to finally, at the age of 40, step up to the challenge. He was so successful in films, from his score to The Natural and his many contributions to the Toy Story series, that he has received twenty-two Oscar nominations and two Oscars. It is a resume that places him, arguably, as the greatest musical Newman of all.
He may be best known for "You've Got a Friend in Me," his disarming composition for Toy Story, or the cheerful lilt of "I Love L.A.," but the heart of his legacy is in the dozens of brilliant compositions detailing the injustices, from racism to economic disparity, that have contributed to the United States being as divided as any time since the Civil War.
"The songs are about things that need to be noticed, places like ghettos and slums that should shame everyone," he told me. "it hurts to see people living like that in this rich country, where the fact that one zip code entitles you to a better medical care and the wrong one can be a death sentence."
But racism isn't Newman's only target. He has written with equal insight and passion about a score of other issues, from sexism to homophobia in immigration hostility and flat-out human cruelty - and his writing style is as unique in pop as his subject matter.
Rather than the first-person pronouncements that have long been the blue-print of protest music, Newman uses a device he had seen in literature, the unreliable narrator. He assumes the role of a character to express the harmful views of that person, feeling the absurdity of the words is the best way to combat the viewpoint.
In addition to his art, Randy’s personal story is also fascinating. After being intimidated for years about following his famous uncles, Alfred and Lionel Newman, into film music (as was expected of him), he turned to pop music, where he built enough confidence to finally, at the age of 40, step up to the challenge. He was so successful in films, from his score to The Natural and his many contributions to the Toy Story series, that he has received twenty-two Oscar nominations and two Oscars. It is a resume that places him, arguably, as the greatest musical Newman of all.
Randy Newman's First Great Song And How It Helped Him Find His Unique Writing Style
Randy Newman didn’t start out writing great songs. Like most budding songwriters in the early 1960s, he worked for a publishing company that instructed him to write songs that fit the narrow pop confines of AM radio, which meant mostly youthful love songs. And he hated it so much that in 1966 he decided to write songs that meant something to him.
“I Think It’s Going to Rain Today,” his first great song, came shortly after. It combined a dark, but tender melody with sad, despondent images to touch listeners so deeply it would eventually stand as the most recorded of all his songs, including versions by Judy Collins, Barbra Streisand, Peggy Lee, Bobby Darin, Nina Simone, and Peter Gabriel.
Part of its appeal are words and music so elastic that the song can strike listeners as cynical or comforting. In an interview with the BBC, Newman said “Rain” is “a song about empathy; it’s a song about the fact that we all have pain, we all have sorrow.”
Even so, Randy would speak about the song at various times with misgivings. “I wrote it at my parent’s house and I remember looking out the window,” he said. “It was a sunny day and I started playing something and the song suddenly went in a different direction. I liked it very much at first. It did what many of my songs don’t do—it was a direct feeling. The guy’s down. But I went through a time when I was critical of it.”
Early on, Newman even called the it “sophomoric” and “maudlin” in interviews, suggesting it was written as a spoof of ever-so-sensitive folk-accented songs by artists like Simon & Garfunkel who were popular at the time. But there was another, more personal reason for Newman’s discomfort. Decades later, he told me in an interview for A Few Words in Defense of Our Country: The Biography of Randy Newman that he let too much of himself slip into the song. “Maybe the whole thing was that it was too close to the way I was,” he said.
Parts of the “Rain” lyrics did fit the profile of someone who, several close to him suggested, had a glass-half-empty nature. Unlike people who wake up on a sunny day and say, “what a lovely day,” a long-time Newman observer told me, “Randy is more likely to stare at the same blue sky and say he thinks it’s going to rain. He worries about everything.”
The song’s personal edge made Randy feel uncomfortable and he began searching for a way to avoid making his song appear confessional. The goal led him to a writing approach often found in literature—the “unreliable narrator.” In the song “Rednecks,” for instance, Newman assumed the role of a racist and expressed the racist’s views, feeling that the absurdity of the words was more powerful than the first-person pronouncements that had long been the blueprint for protest music. It was a strategy he would follow most of his career.
Despite his unease. “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” became a breakthrough song for him. Judy Collins, one of the queens of folk music in the 1960s, recorded it for her In My Life, in 1966, which also contained tunes by Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Kurt Weill, Jacques Brel and Lennon-McCartney. Mere months after deciding to only write songs he cared about, Newman’s music was on an album alongside some of the most respected artists of the era. He was one of the most heralded young songwriters in America.
“I Think It’s Going to Rain Today,” his first great song, came shortly after. It combined a dark, but tender melody with sad, despondent images to touch listeners so deeply it would eventually stand as the most recorded of all his songs, including versions by Judy Collins, Barbra Streisand, Peggy Lee, Bobby Darin, Nina Simone, and Peter Gabriel.
Part of its appeal are words and music so elastic that the song can strike listeners as cynical or comforting. In an interview with the BBC, Newman said “Rain” is “a song about empathy; it’s a song about the fact that we all have pain, we all have sorrow.”
Even so, Randy would speak about the song at various times with misgivings. “I wrote it at my parent’s house and I remember looking out the window,” he said. “It was a sunny day and I started playing something and the song suddenly went in a different direction. I liked it very much at first. It did what many of my songs don’t do—it was a direct feeling. The guy’s down. But I went through a time when I was critical of it.”
Early on, Newman even called the it “sophomoric” and “maudlin” in interviews, suggesting it was written as a spoof of ever-so-sensitive folk-accented songs by artists like Simon & Garfunkel who were popular at the time. But there was another, more personal reason for Newman’s discomfort. Decades later, he told me in an interview for A Few Words in Defense of Our Country: The Biography of Randy Newman that he let too much of himself slip into the song. “Maybe the whole thing was that it was too close to the way I was,” he said.
Parts of the “Rain” lyrics did fit the profile of someone who, several close to him suggested, had a glass-half-empty nature. Unlike people who wake up on a sunny day and say, “what a lovely day,” a long-time Newman observer told me, “Randy is more likely to stare at the same blue sky and say he thinks it’s going to rain. He worries about everything.”
The song’s personal edge made Randy feel uncomfortable and he began searching for a way to avoid making his song appear confessional. The goal led him to a writing approach often found in literature—the “unreliable narrator.” In the song “Rednecks,” for instance, Newman assumed the role of a racist and expressed the racist’s views, feeling that the absurdity of the words was more powerful than the first-person pronouncements that had long been the blueprint for protest music. It was a strategy he would follow most of his career.
Despite his unease. “I Think It’s Going to Rain Today” became a breakthrough song for him. Judy Collins, one of the queens of folk music in the 1960s, recorded it for her In My Life, in 1966, which also contained tunes by Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Kurt Weill, Jacques Brel and Lennon-McCartney. Mere months after deciding to only write songs he cared about, Newman’s music was on an album alongside some of the most respected artists of the era. He was one of the most heralded young songwriters in America.
Bob will write more about the book in the coming weeks.
ROCK N ROLL TIMES WITH ROBERT HILBURN
WEDNESDAY EVENINGS AT MIDNIGHT PACIFIC TIME ON 88.5
THE SOCAL SOUND
