Pop Alchemist Barry Manilow Casts His Spell at Staples Center

Jonny Whiteside

Barry Manilow is one of American pop music’s great paradoxes. An artist of such thunderingly bland style, character and tone, Manilow nonetheless carries an almost hypnotic appeal, one that elevated him to universally acknowledged status as the top Adult Contemporary artist of all time, an achievement that has kept him at the forefront of American entertainment for over 40 years. His devilishly catchy, gleamingly economical pop confections and unusual brand of mesmerizing mediocrity is a combination that won him fans as distinguished and diverse as Frank Sinatra, John Waters, and Bob Dylan. It also made him one of the biggest record sellers in the history of modern pop.

An unassuming, diminutive figure who so effectively sublimates any hint of a sexual identity that he makes Josh Groban look like King Kong, Manilow’s painstakingly crafted songs, and wide-eyed, almost childlike persona are a reliably alchemical equivalent of the King Midas golden touch. Manilow’s stats are mind-bending—over 80 million records sold, including 13 number one hits and 25 consecutive Top 40 entries, unprecedented chart activity so impressive that it has spawned an endless series of complex calculations worthy of an astrophysicist (“the only artist to have three Top four debuts on the Billboard 200 chart in two years,” “first artist since 1981 to have two albums in the top two positions in one calendar year on the chart.”).

Born Barry Alan Pincus in Brooklyn, New York on June 17, 1943, he began playing accordion and piano as a child. At his Bar Mitzvah, he adopted his mother’s maiden name, Manilow (because his father had abandoned the family in 1945). Manilow studied at the prestigious Julliard School of Music and, perhaps most critically, toiled as a commercial advertising jingle writer on Madison Avenue while still in his 20’s. Already a lifelong, genuine obsessive fan of American pop, Manilow, as he composed and performed songs about hamburgers, fried chicken, auto insurance, acne cream and soda pop, became privy to some shadowy insights on American culture and taste (much like former ad man Andy Warhol), allowing him to develop an exploitative showman’s sensibility of unusual privilege and effectiveness.

After a trial by fire (and steam) working as Bette Midler’s pianist and musical director (a period during which she rose from a raunchy underground cult sensation on the gay bath house circuit to packing out Carnegie Hall), Manilow developed full command of a rich palette of pop music and culture elements; after overseeing Midler’s first two albums, he went out as a single and finally nailed his first hit with 1975’s “Mandy.” For Manilow, it’s been non-stop up, up, and away, and his hordes of fans are among the most devout, avid followers any pop star has ever rallied. The man could play every night and still sell out every show in advance (he recently did exactly that during a five year run at the Las Vegas Hilton) and this Staples visit is certain to feature all the fabulous hit songs and glittering gee-whiz grotesquerie that have always been Manilow’s calling card. No one has what Barry’s got, and while that remains, even after all these years, an almost indefinable quality, whatever it is, it’s downright addictive.

Barry Manilow is at the Staples Center, Tues., April 14. Tickets can be purchased here.

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