Steve Lawrence R.I.P
It is with sadness that I write about Steve Lawrence, an important singer and part of one of the great singing duos of the 20th Century. Eydie Gorme was the bigger name when they met, but she took one look at him and knew that he was the one she wanted to share her life with. They always had good material, and happily they worked with Don Costa and Marion Evans to create some classic albums and nightclub presentations.
I rarely speak of my two times I brushed paths with Steve Lawrence, because they are both surrounded by disappointment, but I guess now’s the time.
Someone I knew had a big wedding in Beverly Hills at Les Moonves’ home and I was invited along with my mentor Jerry Graff. Milton Berle, Red Buttons, Allen King, Jerry Vale and a lot of big A-list performers were guests (ironically, the happy couple didn’t last six months). I wanted to give the bride and groom something special, so when I found out that the band was to be composed of all-star Hollywood sessions musicians, I figured an arrangement of one of the groom’s favorite songs would be something he’s treasure, especially if it was played at the wedding. I finished “All the Way” on the plane going west, and copied the parts on Jerry’s dining room table.
Come the day of the wedding, there must have been 300-400 guests. I went up to the leader (unfortunately I can’t remember his name; he played tenor sax and was an important session guy. He passed away some years ago). He said he would call me up later. The time came, I passed out the parts, and conducted the band. The arrangement was good, not great, but I was in heaven hearing the music played so well (remember, the musicians were sight reading). The music got some nice applause since people could see a real-life arranger in front of the band. The groom ran up to me very excited raving about the music, and told me that Steve Lawrence wanted to meet me. Steve Lawrence couldn’t have been kinder, and told me how much he loved what I did. “Have you met my wife Eydie,” he said. No, I said. Soon I met Eydie, who also loved the music. Steve introduced me to Jerry, Milton, Alan, and Red, who couldn’t have cared less, but I’ve never forgotten Lawrence’s kindness. He was a real mensch, Steve Lawrence. I was floating on air. I of course hoped that he would ask me if I was available to write for him. Of course he didn’t. But it makes a nice true story. It took place at a time when a compliment by a major star was just what I needed.
My second Steve Lawrence story does not involve me being with him. The groom from the wedding knew that I had been working with Robert Farnon on editing his music. “Do you thing Bob would want to write for Steve and Eydie?” was the question posed. “I can certainly ask,” I said, and called Bob. He said yes, but wanted to stress that he charged a lot of money. I told him I knew that as he certainly deserved it. “You can help me if this happens,” he said. Once again, I was floating on air actually thinking of being at the recording sessions assisting him.
The next day, I got a phone call from Derek Boulton, a dear man who was Farnon’s manager (Derek had a legendary career in England, working with Ted Heath and all sorts of big stars). Derek liked me very much, and felt terrible that Farnon had called him to tell him that he didn’t want to write for Steve and Eydie after all. He usually let Derek handle these kinds of things where he didn’t want to tell someone ‘no’ directly. I asked Derek, “Between you and me, this is the same man who wrote two albums for Pia Zadora, and an album for Eddie Fischer that wasn’t even released (this album is famous in underground circles the way the infamous Buddy Rich screaming tape was at one time). Derek explained that they were produced by someone whom Farnon rarely said no to, and that was that.
All of this came rushing back to me when I heard that Steve Lawrence left us. It was time to go public about them in his memory.
Another musician who really enjoyed what I did that night was Ben Lanzarone, whose opinion meant a great deal. He was a monster musician, and left us a short time ago.
And I also learned that Allen King was a mean drunk.