I remember him briefly from the mid-seventies, and (me) laughing out loud over the vast number of people who did not understand the ironic intent of Short People. I don’t claim to be any sort of genius, but oh my God. What’s not to get from, Short People are just the same as you and I/All men are brothers until the day they die? If music lovers had paid any attention to the characteristics of Newman’s other sixties’ and seventies’ songs – Sail Away; Burn On; Louisiana 1927; Old Man; Davy, the Fat Boy; Marie; Dayton, Ohio - 1903 – they would have had to know or at least suspect Newman’s tongue-in-cheek intention behind the words, “short people got no reason to live.”
I became more intimately acquainted with Randy Newman’s music after Don and I became a couple in 1980. I was listening (repeatedly) to Judi Collins’ version of I Think It’s Going to Rain Today...broken windows and empty hallways, pale dead moon in a sky streaked with grey...but had no idea who had written the song. Then along came brooding, wickedly wry Don, who told me that Randy Newman was a genius.
Wanting to impress Don (terribly terribly), I ordered two of Newman’s tapes from the U.S. – Sail Away and Good Old Boys – which became iconic in our home on through the years, especially when Don was away on business, when I would get the children up at midnight for pizza and we would all dance in our underwear. (Oh, the stories...)
But nothing impressed me more than that first week of dating Don and his early morning interpretive singing, with actions, of Newman’s Simon Smith and the Amazing Dancing Bear. First off, I knew that anyone who had committed such a song to memory had to be lovely, but I also understood something more of the musician. And so it was that I became a minor (if such things can be qualified or quantified) Randy Newman aficionado.
That said, I cannot tell you the magnitude and complexity of emotions I felt sitting in Centrepointe Theatre this Monday evening, watching the 67-year-old artist, his voice in full and magnificent throttle, his fingers steady on the keyboard, as he regaled a rapt audience for over two hours with music and anecdotes that were passionate, lovely, laugh out loud funny, and heartbreaking.
He is handsome. This is true. He is tidy; this is also true...although I never did figure out the sparkling emanation (a tie clip, perhaps, or a button?), or whether he really is as self-deprecating and emotionally awkward as I saw him, as he (so endearingly) hump-a-lumped across the stage, a white-haired man still a little unsure of himself; still, somehow, unsettled.
I can tell you, however, as I sat there with a lump in my throat, moved beyond words by his heart on his sleeve and his incredible talent, there is no memory lane I would rather have travelled...all those songs and all those years...Don and Sarah and Pablo and Noam...Newman’s remarkably evocative phrases and phrasing reminding me that some people are not afraid to feel, to show that they feel, to share what they feel, to embrace, to live, and to let go. Randy Newman is a crucial reminder that while life moves along in its haphazard way, every now and again we are able to pause and to savour; to remember that so much of our lives have been good.
I may go out tomorrow if I can borrow a coat to wear
Oh, I'd step out in style with my sincere smile and my dancing bear
Outrageous, alarming, courageous, charming
Oh, who would think a boy and bear
Could be well accepted everywhere?
It's just amazing how fair people can be.
Seen at the nicest places where well-fed faces all stop to stare
Making the grandest entrance is Simon Smith and his dancing bear
They'll love us, won't they?
They feed us, don't they?
Oh, who would think a boy and bear
Could be well accepted everywhere...
It's just amazing how fair people can be
Who needs money when you're funny?
The big attraction everywhere
Will be Simon Smith and his dancing bear
It's Simon Smith and the amazing dancing bear.
Randy Newman
