Mr. Roboto


     At the end of the 1970s, Chicago rock band Styx was on top of the world. A 1980 Gallup poll crowned them as America’s favorite band. An insider from their record label said to Circus, “Styx is the Second Coming of God…They could fart and it would go Top 10!” No one could have foreseen the inner creative struggles or public outrage that would wash over the group just a few years later. Styx’s response to the turmoil, Kilroy Was Here spawned one of the catchiest songs in pop culture history- “Mr Roboto”.  How did the song help cause the downfall of this multi-platinum progressive rock band?  Was “Mr. Roboto” a cautionary tale about censorship and over reliance on technology? The answer is [REDACTED].

     In August 1961, fraternal twins John (drums) and Chuck (bass) Panozzo befriended fourteen-year-old neighbor (and accordion player) Dennis DeYoung– calling their band The Tradewinds then TW4. By 1965, DeYoung abandoned the accordion for keyboard and vocals.  The three entered Chicago State College together, soon meeting up with folk guitarist John Curulewski. Rock guitarist James “J.Y.” Young joined in 1970 and helped the band get discovered by a talent scout during a concert in J.Y’s hometown. Once signed to Wooden Nickel records, the band couldn’t decide on a better name. After several suggestions the five bandmates settled on Styx because according to DeYoung it was “the only one that none of us hated”.

     Styx released four albums in three years that combined lofty prog-rock touches with a harder, louder working-man machismo.  DeYoung’s use of new synthesizer technology kept the band sounding fresh, while driving vocals, guitar, bass and drums fit well into the newly created AOR (Album-Oriented Rock) format for FM radio. AOR gave DJ’s the freedom to play more than just the hit singles from a rock album, in any order.  It also gave songs that weren’t hits greater public exposure. Still, Styx couldn’t seem to get noticed outside the Chicagoland area. One day in 1973, DeYoung wrote a spirited power ballad, “Lady” about his wife (and high school sweetheart) Suzanne.  He didn’t think it was worth recording until encouraged by the rest of the band to have it added to Styx II. After a label change to A&M Records in 1974, the band got a lucky break.  A DJ from WLS Chicago heard “Lady” on a jukebox in a north side Chicago pizza joint.  After adding it to his Saturday night show (which went out to 38 states), “Lady” reached #6 in 1975, two years after it was released. Styx II went gold and the sky was the limit. 

     In 1976, Curulewski left the band suddenly before a major tour to spend more time with his family. Styx frantically looked for a replacement, finding guitarist Tommy Shaw. The straight-ahead rockers had finally made it and each successive album (Equinox in 1975, Crystal Ball in 1976) rewarded the band with greater success and wider appeal – but at what cost?

    Styx had three talented singer/songwriters with Young, Shaw, and DeYoung – each with their own ideas and musical ambitions. A clash of egos came to a head during production of 1977’s The Grand Illusion. The once shy DeYoung felt his contributions weren’t being appreciated and grew angry or depressed when things didn’t go right in the studio. “(Fooling Yourself) Angry Young Man” was originally written by Shaw with DeYoung in mind. While the album reportedly sold six million copies and went triple platinum, a battle of wills kept the band in “an unhappy place” according to Shaw.

    By the end of the decade, Styx was easily filling 30,000 seat arenas with their hard rock sound (which coined the term ‘Arena Rock’) and wanted to keep things that way. When another syrupy DeYoung ballad (1979’s “Babe”) went to #1 and was Styx’s first million seller, the writing was on the wall. J.Y. Young told the Chicago Tribune:

    Dennis really wanted to do these soft, intimate love ballads, and that was against the grain for me and Tommy Shaw, so our differences got magnified, because Dennis was insisting on going outside the boundaries we lived with. He’s an assertive and strongly opinionated guy.

    Styx had just started the 1980s with the #1 smash concept LP Paradise Theater (a metaphor about the changing times in the US). Things started going sideways with the stand out hit “Snowblind” which showed the horrors of cocaine addiction. When played backwards, the phrase “I try so hard to make it so” comes out a little like “Satan moves through our voices”. This made Styx a lightning rod for anti-rock music advocates and the ‘Satanic Panic’ movement of the early 80s. Its leaders (including Tipper Gore and Rev. Jerry Falwell) used “Snowblind” as an example of having ‘hidden satanic phrases’ and successfully lobbied the Arkansas state senate to have warning labels on records containing such messages. An Assembly of God church in Iowa even hosted an album burning with Styx albums becoming easy kindling – after all they were named after the river leading to Hades, right?

    This puzzled (now lead producer) DeYoung.  Why would anyone think Styx was satanic, especially with a harmless ballad called “Babe”? He jokingly said in an interview with In The Studio with Redbeard, “Anyone who plays their records backwards is the Antichrist. We have enough trouble making these records sound right [playing] forward.” The scary reality of censorship spurred DeYoung into thinking about a new album concept. After a band tour of Japan, DeYoung was fascinated by their culture – and robots. Something clicked and DeYoung started writing a theatrical treatment for Styx’s next project: What if in the future, rock music was forbidden, artists were imprisoned and robots were their wardens? What if this could be a show within a Styx concert? Kilroy Was Here was the result.

     “Kilroy Was Here” was one of the first popular memes – a graffiti tag supposedly started by WW2 servicemen to leave behind a memento of a successful beachhead or territory capture. The symbol of a baldheaded man with a long nose peeking over a wall soon appeared ubiquitously under bridges, on tree trunks, on the walls of bars and restroom stalls.

     The titular rock opera describes a totalitarian state led by Dr. Everett Righteous (played by guitarist J.Y. Young) who successfully convinces the masses that the root of all evil started with Elvis Presley. Through a weekly TV show, Dr. Righteous and the Majority for Musical Morality outlaw rock and roll and order the destruction of all rock instruments. According to Dr. Righteous, anyone who listens to rock music is considered diseased or mentally ill and must be brainwashed back to ‘health’. All rock performers are put in prison and tended to by guards called ‘robotos’ (Japanese for ‘robot’). One imprisoned rocker, Robert Orin Charles Kilroy (R.O.C.K. – played by DeYoung) manages to overpower a roboto guard and hides in its shell to escape. Once revealed to rebel Jonathan Chance (played by Tommy Shaw), Kilroy unmasks and helps lead the resistance. By the end of the ‘show’ concert goers are vicariously helping overthrow the Majority.

    The band was less than enthusiastic about DeYoung’s Broadway-like concept.  They also weren’t thrilled about ‘performing’ as actors and saying scripted dialogue in a mini-musical. Concept albums were on the decline (notably the poor sales of KISS’ 1981 Music from The Elder) and Styx wanted to get back to its rock roots. J.Y. Young recalled the tense scene to The Arizona Republic:

     Dennis was a strong-willed individual and had the most success as a writer and lead singer in the heyday,” Young said. “So when we were gonna go with his idea about this robot thing, I said ‘We run the chance of really alienating our male audience.’ And Dennis turned down headlining the US Festival in 1982, which was a globally advertised event that offered us more money than we’d ever made in a live concert times three or four… In a power move, [Dennis] said, ‘I’m not gonna do it unless I get to do exactly what I want.’ I said, ‘I don’t believe in it but you’ve led this band to this point and I’ll back you on it.’ 

     Reluctantly, the band allowed themselves to be roped into the project and work began on Kilroy Was Here in 1982. DeYoung took advantage of a Roland synthesizer with a new arpeggiator feature. Arpeggiators repeat a programmed pattern of notes or sounds for as long as you press the key. The intro to “She’s A Beauty” by The Tubes is a classic example. This gave “Mr. Roboto” a strange, futuristic tone. A vocoder features prominently on DeYoung’s voice which begins in Japanese:

    どうもありがとうミスターロボット    

(Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)

    また会う日まで               

  (Mata au hi made)

    どうもありがとうミスターロボット   

  (Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)

    秘密を知りたい               

  (Himitsu o shiritai)

    Which translates to:

    Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto

    Until the day we meet again

    I want to know your secret

     DeYoung relates the imprisonment and escape of Kilroy during the song as he reveals himself to Chance. Kilroy also adds a prophetic commentary about the dangers of a modern, digital world and loss of identity.

    The problem’s plain to see

    Too much technology

    Machines to save our lives

    Machines dehumanize

    After a rocking climax, Kilroy’s mask is removed with simulated sounds of electronic parts breaking down as DeYoung yells “I’m Kilroy!” The music video was iconic for its time as robots and band members mimed their way through the story.  Stan Winston (the special FX wizard behind The Terminator, Aliens and Predator) created the special roboto masks shown both in the video and on the album cover and Michael Winslow (the human sound-effect machine from Police Academy) played Jimi Hendrix in a scene where Kilroy is initially captured in an outlawed rock history museum.  

     On the surface, Styx had made another great studio album.  Kilroy Was Here went platinum (their fourth in a row) and made a big hit out of “Mr. Roboto” (#3 on the Hot 100). The album was even nominated for a Best Engineered Recording Grammy but the damage had already been done. Styx’s modern synthpop and soft rock sounds were a reversal of fortune.  Young recalled:  

    It all went bad. It cut our album sales in half because the male audience was absolutely alienated by ‘Mr. Roboto’. Not all of them, but a large chunk. And our concert tickets were down from sold-out arenas in 1981.

     Yet another DeYoung ballad “Don’t Let It End” (#6 on the charts) pushed the album deeper into pop banality. Even the addition of J. Y. Young’s rocker “Heavy Metal Poisoning” couldn’t keep the album from ‘jumping the shark’. The song did however have some clever, stinging barbs for the band’s fundamentalist critics by intentionally backmasking “rock and roll is evil” and the latin phrase “annuit cœptis, novus ordo seclorum”. Translated to “He/God has favored our undertakings, a new order of the ages”, the phrase appears on the back of the one dollar bill and furthers the narrative of Dr. Righteous. To add salt to the wound, “Snowblind” was the original B-side to “Mr. Roboto”. 

     An ambitious yet expensive 1983 tour (with a 10 minute opening film) opened to smaller, more intimate houses meant for theater but slowly moved to larger venues.  By then, the band was weary of being DeYoung’s marionettes. The fan backlash of Styx’s insipid new style caused Shaw to fear for his life one hot evening during the Texxas World Music Festival in Dallas.  High-energy acts Sammy Hagar and Ted Nugent had just burned the house down with their set and it was Styx’s turn to perform their Kilroy rock opera to 100,000 drunk, heat-crazed fans.  Shaw recalled to Behind The Music:

     I’m thinking “In a few minutes I’ve gotta walk out there and stand on that stage for ten minutes going [miming] ‘…But Kilroy, what about the young people of America?’.  They’re gonna kill me!  I’m going to die in Texas.

     Shaw finally snapped in the middle of a Maryland show, abruptly smashed his guitar and walked off the stage in disgust. The next day, Shaw quit and the tour limped on without him.  While Styx didn’t officially announce a breakup, the three songwriters began cranking out their own solo projects with DeYoung’s “Desert Moon” in 1984 becoming the most successful (#24 on the album charts, #6 on the Hot 100 Singles). To make up for Styx’s unexplained absence, A&M Records released the live double-album Caught In The Act to poor reviews. The one new song “Music Time” made it to #40.  It was the last Styx single for six years.  Shaw moved on and formed Damn Yankees in 1989 with Ted Nugent, Jack Blades and Michael Cartellone. Styx didn’t reunite in the studio until 1990’s Edge of the Century (sans Shaw) where they took the (surprise!) DeYoung ballad “Show Me The Way” to #3. By 1991, grunge and alternative music had taken over the music scene, leaving Styx’s hard rock act behind.

     DeYoung got a taste of his Broadway fantasies in the early 90s when he put on the robes of Pontius Pilate for the touring revival of Jesus Christ Superstar. Finally, Styx reunited (with both Shaw and DeYoung) for a greatest hits LP and tour in 1995 with replacement drummer (and Styx superfan) Todd Sucherman filling in for John Panozzo due to heavy drinking problems. Panozzo, 47, died a year later from cirrhosis. 

     “Mr Roboto” gave Styx a new start thanks to a 1998 Volkswagon commercial featuring then unknown Tony Hale (‘Buddy’ from TV’s Arrested Development). The 1999 Brave New World album failed to chart, but the group was ready to return to the road with their ‘Return To Paradise’ tour – their first in four years. Tour plans were quickly hobbled as DeYoung contracted a viral illness that made him susceptible to light and Chuck Panozzo was diagnosed with HIV (who later came out in 2001). Styx decided to tour without the two and replaced DeYoung with Lawrence Gowan and Panozzo with Glen Burtnik.  While DeYoung was devastated at the news, J. Y. Young recalled:

     Dennis was so good for this band for the first ten years but its really been all about him for himself in my judgement ever since then.  For Dennis it was either ‘his  way or the highway’. We’ve chosen the highway.

     While the band toured heavily during the 2000’s Styx had only two studio albums – Cyclorama and Big Bang Theory which went to #46 on the Billboard Top 200.  Ricky Phillips replaced Burtnik on Bass in 2003.   In 2017, Styx released “The Mission” (a concept album about a mission to Mars) as their first new LP in 14 years. The group is reportedly almost finished with its followup as of this writing and still tours extensively. 

    Over the years, the phrase ‘Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto’ has been used many times in pop culture including: The Simpsons, Futurama, Archer, My Life as a Teenage Robot, Arrested Development (again imitated by Hale), Eight Crazy Nights, Austin Powers in Goldmember, DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story, Man With A Plan, The Perfect Man (where DeYoung fronts a Styx tribute band) and Mr. Robot. It was even used in an Academy Awards acceptance speech.

    Almost fifty years after their first album release, Styx has still not been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The acrimony between DeYoung and the band still exists with DeYoung performing Styx hits without the band, while Styx only recently began adding “Mr. Roboto” to its encores due to the new generation of teen and pre-teen fans. The chances of reunion are slim, said Shaw in a Rolling Stone interview in 2011:

    We already did it. In retrospect, we weren’t even happy working with each other in our heyday. We’re just different people with different desires and different visions of how things should be. God, it was such an unhappy place. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. We’re crazy, but we’re not insane.

     Young told the Chicago Tribune that Styx has found its happy place without DeYoung or rushing to release new albums:

    When I see our audience building, and see more and more young people coming to the shows, I say, Why do we want to do things the way we used to do them, when it’s pretty clear they don’t work for us? When what we are doing, making concert DVDs, is drawing more people to us?

    DeYoung however would love to reunite with the band but until then its

    Beyond my control, we all need control

    I need control, we all need control

“Nights In White Satin”


Part Two

All that was left to begin the production was to find an orchestra. Fortunately Decca had its own anonymous session musicians from its many classical albums, which temporarily became the fictitious London Festival Orchestra. The Moodies had all their songs in place so conductor/arranger Peter Knight wove original neoclassical interludes between the stage numbers. To successfully capture the rich tones of the orchestra, microphone placement was key. Bassist John Lodge told Uncut how it benefited the album:

Every instrument on that record has its own space. Nothing gets in the way of anything else. Because everything has its own space, everything sounds bigger. I think that’s what gives it its lushness, and the dynamics. Your imagination takes over. Your brain is filling in the picture. It was like we were recording in CinemaScope. We used to talk about that. ‘How wide is the colour on this song?’

The album still needed a fitting beginning and ending. Drummer Graeme Edge explained to Classicbands.com:

The morning section seemed a bit empty, so I wrote what eventually became “Morning Glory” and “Late Lament.” To avoid being distracted, I sat in our Volkswagen van and wrote it on the inside of a torn-open Players 20 cigarette packet. I tried to write some words for someone else to put music to, as a song, but poetry has a rhythm and meter which is difficult to turn into a song. So our producer [Tony Clarke] said, ‘well, that’s great the way it is. Just put it down as a poem.’

Pinder was tapped to recite the two poems, with the melancholy “Late Lament” spoken at the end of “Nights”. Hayward remembered it was a no-brainer to have Pinder speaking on the album:

I loved that spoken word, because Pinder had such a beautiful voice…You could tell by the girls that fell for him – you could hear it. “007 Pinder” we used to call him because he could just do it with a few words. But I thought it worked really well.

Cold-hearted orb that rules the night

Removes the colours from our sight

Red is grey is yellow white

But we decide which is right

And which is an illusion

Knight’s soulful arrangement combines with tender flourishes from the symphony to give the end of the evening (and album) its sense of completeness. Strings swirl upwards as the orchestra builds to a dramatic crescendo. Edge’s gong peals out, fading into nothing. Another day has ended. Yet, if the listener restarts the album from side one, the sound of the gong slowly rises from nothing to full dawning. A new day begins with “Morning Glory”.

Pinprick holes in a colorless sky

Let insipid figures of light pass by

The mighty light of ten thousand suns

Challenges infinity and is soon gone

Nighttime, to some a brief interlude

To others the fear of solitude

Brave Helios, wake up your steeds

Bring the warmth the countryside needs

The album only took a few days to record since The Moodies recorded their songs independently from the orchestra. By week’s end, the record was ready for an audience. Hayward remembered the big reveal to the record execs:

We were so excited about this album…We put some speakers up in the studio and invite [sic] our friends and the people from Decca down. We turned the lights out and played “Days of Future Passed” from the beginning to the end. It was like a concert in the dark. Then it finished, the lights went on and you could see a smile on everyone’s face as though something magic had happened. I can still get that feeling now. We knew it was right – I’m not talking about commercial success, I’m talking about what the Moody Blues wanted, a culmination of what we’d done for a year.

Not everyone in the studio was smiling. Decca was an old, well-established label, and the directors wanted Dvořák. Fortunately, the US version of Decca (ironically named London Records) and producer Mendl heard hit potential and pushed the parent label for the album’s release as-is. Begrudgingly, Decca agreed. The Moodies felt confident that “Nights” and Days would be breakouts, but UK buyers were a bit ‘meh’ about the single-–only reaching #29 on the November 1967 charts. It was even worse in the US. “Nights” didn’t even make it on the Hot 100. Rolling Stone gave The Moodies a tepid review, saying their music “is constantly marred by one of the most startlingly saccharine conceptions of ‘beauty’ and ‘mysticism’ that any rock group has ever affected.” Naturally, “Nights” charted at #6 in Belgium. Why didn’t it chart higher in other places? Part of the problem lay in the default template that pop songs on the radio couldn’t be longer than three minutes. Lodge explained to Classicbands:

The record company weren’t sure where to market it, because we didn’t have any gaps between the tracks so the disc jockeys couldn’t easily play one track. ‘Nights In White Satin’ was six minutes long, so that wasn’t going to be a single as far as they could see, especially in America. So it went against all the rules of ‘pop music’.

“Tuesday Afternoon” didn’t chart in the UK at all. Hayward began to feel that the album and band would be relegated to avant-garde London art parties. However, another blessing of good timing was waiting in the wings. Eight weeks after the album’s release, The Moodies were performing at a music convention in Cannes, France. Hayward related what happened next to SuperSeventies:

The Supremes were due to go on. The show was supposed to be an hour of live Eurovision television, and something happened. The Supremes’ backing track didn’t turn up, and it was complicated by the fact that something was wrong with the entire tape system. Everybody that was miming had a problem. So the producer of the show came rushing around saying, “We need an act to play live.” Nobody was prepared to do that. None of the American acts could work without their backing band, but we said we’d do it. We went on and wound up with forty-five minutes of live Eurovision time. “Nights in White Satin” was one of the songs we performed. The next week it was Number 1 [In France], that fast.

Still, the US market proved hard to crack but times were changing. Just a few months earlier, The Doors had released the 7:06 album cut of “Light My Fire”. LA DJ Dave Diamond was one of the first to play the full version on the air, which helped boost the song to #1. Longer running songs from other acts suddenly made their way onto station playlists, sometimes used for ulterior purposes. Edge remembered:

We were about the [sic] release another single, ‘Voices In The Sky’, when the American record company got in touch and said, hold off a minute, you’ve got a ‘breakout’ – a local city hit. It was going absolutely crazy in Seattle and had started to spread. Many years later, we discovered the DJ who started it all. He was on 12 till 4am – the graveyard shift. He told us that he wanted to go smoke his bong, so he went down the authorised playlist and picked the longest record he was allowed to play – ‘Nights In White Satin’.

“Nights” was re-released in 1972 and this time went to #2 on the Hot 100 and #9 in the UK. Days reached #3 on the Billboard 200 and sold over a million copies. In retrospect, Rolling Stone added Days to its list of most essential albums of 1967.

Sadly, Hayward didn’t receive any royalties from “Nights” or Days due to his onerous contract as a teen with Donegan. In fact, Hayward didn’t get paid for any songwriting work until he was 25. Fortunately, The Moodies’ success continued into the new decade with Hayward writing 20 of the band’s 27 post-1967 singles. By the late 1970s, The Moody Blues had released several popular albums like In Search of the Lost Chord and Seventh Sojourn. Hayward’s song “Forever Autumn” for a musical adaptation of War of the Worlds reached the UK top five in 1978. By 1980, the group changed their sound into a modern, synthpop style with more emphasis on synthesizers than Mellotron. A strained relationship with Pinder led to his departure and introduction of Swiss keyboardist Patrick Moraz of Yes. 1981’s Long Distance Voyager became a #1 smash with both “The Voice” and “Gemini Dreams” reaching the Top 20. The release of The Other Side Of Life with “Your Wildest Dreams” in 1986 was another big seller earning The Moody Blues the honor of having a Top Ten single in three successive decades. The release of Sur la Mer in 1988 was the last of their Top 40 singles with “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere”. Flautist Ray Thomas passed away at age 76 in January, 2018. Shortly afterwards, The Moody Blues were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Occasionally, the band still reunites with Hayward, Edge and Lodge to play cruises or tour dates. Their latest studio album December is their 16th. The Moodies have sold 70 million albums worldwide and have 18 platinum and gold LP’s.

The Moody Blues are pioneers of the progressive rock format with experimental ideas like longer, more philosophical songs, the creative use of orchestral music, mixed time-signatures, and instrument proficiency. This would later open the doors to future musical odysseys with rock bands like Yes, Genesis, Emerson, Lake and Palmer and Pink Floyd. Also, most pop albums up to this point had a brief pause or empty space between tracks to signal the end of one song and the beginning of a new one. The Days concept album however became an orchestral pop ‘suite’ of songs – crossfading from one scene to another along a central theme without a silence buffer. Another innovation of Days was the successful fusion of symphony with rock- adding a level of sophistication and a lusher audio palette that record buyers had not heard before. Did DSS pay off for Decca? Sort of. As production costs declined, stereo player purchases were easier to finance by the general public. Still, Days was often sold at a discount to attract new HiFi buyers. 8-track recorders quickly swept through the recording industry, leaving the 4-track DSS system obsolete and abandoned by 1969. Deram continued its experimental artist lineup into the late 70s, including signing David Bowie to his first album deal.

Over 50 years after its initial release, Days and “Nights” still influence music and culture today. It charted three times in the UK and sold several million copies. Astronaut ‘Hoot’ Gibson brought Days with him on the Atlantis shuttle space craft for numerous missions and it became a favorite of fellow NASA astronauts. Popular films Casino and A Bronx Tale feature “Nights” in important scenes. The Moodies even voiced themselves in the “Viva Ned Flanders” episode of The Simpsons. The Mellotron became a niche instrument that outlived the fear and distrust of the music unions. It caught on with creative acts like Marvin Gaye, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie and Stevie Wonder- who liked the way the Mellotron could sweeten or add color to their albums. Its distinctive sound made a comeback in the mid 90s with Oasis’ “Wonderwall” and Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” to name a few. Thanks to today’s technology, you can squeeze a heavy Mellotron machine into a cheap, software plug-in for computer based audio workstations. Also, symphonic rock has become a thriving sub-genre with many standouts such as Deep Purple’s Concerto for Group and Orchestra, Eldorado by ELO and Metallica’s S&M album with the San Francisco Symphony.

The Guardian wrote that The Moody Blues are psychedelia’s forgotten heroes and “sang of real emotions, such as loneliness and love, and trying to find one’s place in the world. And they presented their distinctive brand of everyman existentialism with infinitely more joie de vivre than, say, Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters, ELP or King Crimson.” On the eve of their Rock Hall induction, Rolling Stone asked Edge what makes “Nights” such a timeless song:

I think it’s the joy, the spirit that makes it [resonate]. It’s not spiritual, but from the spirit – uplifting joy and happiness. It’s a young boy discovering that he loves somebody for the first time and he just wants to shout it out from the hills – and shout it out again!

Cause I love you

Yes, I love you

Oh how I love you!

“Nights In White Satin”

The Moody Blues

#2 Billboard Hot 100

November 1972


Part One

Gazing at people, some hand in hand

Just what I’m going through they can’t understand

Some try to tell me, thoughts they cannot defend

Just what you want to be, you will be in the end

     Quick, it’s 1967 and you’re the head of a big British record label. You need a hit album, and The Beatles just created a musical masterpiece with Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Unfortunately, all you can find in your own talent roster is a band that had only one big hit (a cover). Both the founding lead singer and the bassist have recently left. The new lead singer is a lovesick nineteen-year-old. The keyboardist is playing an electronic instrument on the bleeding edge of technology. What’s more, the group is already deep in debt to your label from a string of failed albums. Skeptical yet? The Decca record label certainly was about The Moody Blues, and yet, through a series of happy accidents, “Nights in White Satin” and its showcase album Days of Future Passed became not only big hits but also vanguards of progressive rock. So, how did the band’s success hinge on Belgians, backing tapes, and a bong?

     The Moody Blues had their beginnings in 1964 as a Birmingham, England, blues band with drummer Graeme Edge, bassist Clint Warwick, flautist Ray Thomas, keyboardist Mike Pinder and guitarist/lead vocalist Denny Laine. Pinder told Classicbands.com about the origin of the group and their name:

     One day Ray Thomas and I…were trying to conjure up an idea of how to get some money to fund the band and also to try and get on a circuit. In Birmingham, one of the big breweries there, that owned all of clubs was called Mitchells and Butlers. They went by the name of M and B. They owned most of the big dance halls. We thought maybe if we named this new band that Ray and I just put together using those initials, we might talk them into coming up with some money to fund us, and also to get on their circuit. Well, that never happened (laughs). But, I did come up with a name.

     What I did was, at that time I was very interested in the fact that music changed our moods. I had made the realization then. It had magical qualities to do things like that. We needed an M. So that was really easy to come up with the Moody, but actually I came up with the Blues part first…We were playing rhythm and blues and blues music. In particular, people like Sonny Boy Williamson were touring England, a lot of American blues singers were touring, and we became a backup band for those guys…It was very easy to come up with blues for that, and the moody with an M because of my interest in the mood affecting changes of music.

     Their 1964 cover of Bessie Banks’s R&B song “Go Now!” topped the charts in the UK and reached #10 in the US. However, by 1966, the wave of Beatlemania had already swept through England and America. Record buyers’ musical tastes were changing from R&B covers and sappy, feel-good pop songs to more experimental, new genres like psychedelia and progressive rock. Rock wanted to be taken more seriously which left The Moodies with an uncertain future. The next few albums just didn’t seem to have the magic touch (except in France and Belgium) which left the band indebted to Decca to the tune of 5,000 pounds ($123,000 with 2020 inflation). Laine and Warwick soon left, and the band was relegated to the ‘fish-and-chips’ dinner theater circuit in the North of England.

     After responding to an ad in Melody Maker (placed by band friend Eric Burdon from The Animals), Justin Hayward took over as lead singer. John Lodge soon replaced Warwick on bass. Hayward had a fine pedigree of musical talent as guitarist and songwriter – having worked with legendary skiffle player Lonnie Donegan. Skiffle was the blues/folk/jazz inspired, proto-rock sound that inspired The Beatles and the resulting British invasion in the 60s. Donegan must have also seen potential in Hayward’s abilities because Hayward pledged all songwriting royalties to Donegan for eight years. This Faustian contract would come back to haunt Hayward later. Hayward’s original songs bolstered the band with sorely needed new material and vigor. As the band continued to release singles, their fanbase became slightly larger. Hayward related to Mitch Lafon how the seeds of imagination were planted:

     Almost overnight it changed for us. We got a small following that used to truck us around the West country particularly. And so we started doing our own songs. And then we thought ‘maybe it would be nice..’ (cos on these gigs we were always doing two forty-five minutes sets) ‘…maybe for one of those forty-five minutes we do like a story in song. Like a story of the day in the life of one guy. So we wrote this kind of stage show.

     As The Moodies’ experimental set matured, keyboardist Pinder added a secret ‘spice’ to the musical blend – an innovative yet temperamental instrument called a Mellotron. A Mellotron (also called a Chamberlin – invented by Wisconsin inventor Harry Chamberlin.) is basically an old-school sampling keyboard that uses magnetic tape strips instead of microchips and memory to playback real instrument sounds. Recordings of various instruments and their rhythms are installed with different pitches connected to the piano-like keys. If you wanted to play a flute, just install the flute tapes and press a note on the keyboard. A real flute sound comes out (with a bit of tape warble). Play a chord, and you have three harmonic flutes at your command. A famous example is the intro to The Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever”. Add enough instrument tapes and you would have a virtual symphony. This made the Mellotron a desirable, cheaper replacement for a backing orchestra if you had someone skilled enough to play it. Some music unions were so afraid of the contraption putting session musicians out of work that they tried to ban it for anything but home and lounge use. Unions even pushed Mellotron operators at nightclubs to charge triple their rates because they were hypothetically playing more than one instrument.

     It had other drawbacks as well. Mellotrons are large, bulky beasts that rely on steady electrical current and are prone to frequent tape breakdowns. They also have a limited playback capability due to the length of the tape strip and the necessity to rewind the tape once the key is released. If you play a note longer than eight seconds the tape (and sound) run out. Fortunately for The Moody Blues, Pinder not only knew a lot about Mellotron repair and upkeep but also the secrets to playing one correctly because he used to work at the manufacturer as a technician. His expertise with the instrument gave them the nickname ‘Pindertrons’. Haywood related to Classicbands.com:

     He [Pinder] said, “I know this instrument and it could really work.” We found one at the Dunlop Social Center in Birmingham…We found it stuffed up in the corner and paid 25 Pounds for it and brought it back down to London. I can only really speak for myself. It made my songs work with The Moodies and the other guys became much more interested in the songs that Mike and I were doing when we had this.

     The technological curiosity was so pivotal to The Moodies’ emerging sound that Rolling Stone’s Encyclopedia of Rock ‘n’ Roll remarked, “If it were not for The Moody Blues purchase of a Mellotron in 1967, The Moody Blues might never have been heard from again.”

     One night, as Hayward was between one love affair and the beginning of another, he penned a song about a set of new satin sheets given to him as a gift from a former lover. Composed as an autobiographical ode to ‘the adoration of all women’, he soon shared the song with the rest of the band. Haywood explained to Dutch television:

     I wrote “Nights In White Satin” after a gig…I did the basic song and I took it into play to the other guys the next morning where we kept our equipment and I played it through a couple of times and the other guys were like, “Yeah, that’s all right.” Mike [Pinder] said, “Play it again.” [adding the Mellotron]. I played it again and everybody became interested.

Nights in white satin

Never reaching the end

Letters I’ve written

Never meaning to send

     The show continued to come together in Belgium where The Moodies spent half a year writing and rehearsing. The production had no real plot and wasn’t operatic because it didn’t have any characters. Instead, a group of songs painted a musical picture that represented a day in the life of the average person. The lyrics were the ink of the imaginary soundscape while the melodies were the watercolors. “Dawn Is A Feeling” began the set along with other mundane events performed as songs to show the passage of time. One afternoon, Hayward smoked a joint and wrote “Tuesday Afternoon” which was soon added to the show. Other songs like “(Evening) Time To Get Away” and “Twilight Time” soon followed, tracking the sun from midday into nightfall. The soaring harmonies of “Nights In White Satin” was the book end that closed the set, yet still lacked a certain something. From time to time, the band would find a local club to demo the songs they’d created. The Belgians loved it. The stage show was becoming a concept album.

     Meanwhile, Decca had two problems. Stereophonic recordings in the UK were limited mostly to classical or “easy listening” music, which meant limited revenue for the label. Decca also made the new, expensive stereo players meant to play those records – but they weren’t selling well either because only highbrow or wealthy Brits bought them. Nearly everyone else stuck with their cheaper, monaural record players which were incompatible with the new stereo technology. Pop hits had been released in stereo already but usually in an uninspiring, almost novelty recording style where sound was left, right, or center only. The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper had already set the bar high by experimenting with 3-D sound fields. How could Decca push more wax and tin onto the increasingly savvy UK buyer?

     The answer was the “Deramic Sound System” or DSS. Decca’s experimental/imprint label Deram wanted to push HiFi boundaries beyond The Beatles by layering multiple 2-channel stereo recordings onto a pair of 4-track master recorders. This gave engineers the freedom to place microphones more strategically in the studio to bring out higher highs and lower lows. It also created a wider, immersive ‘you-are-there’ soundscape that stereophonic listeners could appreciate (which would in turn sell more players). The plan was for DSS to showcase a rock band together with an orchestra playing Dvořák’s New World Symphony. HiFi recordings wanted to be taken as seriously as rock did. Serendipity soon stepped in. Haywood explained to Mitch Lafon:

     At quite chance, Decca approached us with this whole thing about Dvořák and that idea…It was Peter Knight who was the orchestral arranger that was gonna do the real Dvořák between our bits on this demonstration record that came to see us…and afterwards he said to us ‘I’m not sure if its gonna work this way ’round. I really like the songs that you did in that first set. Why do we do it the other way, ’round. You do those songs and then I’ll give orchestral arrangements…links between them.’ We said ‘That’s great by us’. Of course we have a chance to record our own songs at last and then the executive producer that was in charge of that particular series [Hugh Mendl] he went along with it very bravely.

END OF PART ONE

 

 

 

      In 1981, “In The Air Tonight” didn’t even crack the US Top 40.  So why is it so popular today?  What did Phil Collins mean when he sang about someone drowning? How was “the sleekest, most melodramatic drum break in history” created? How is it still influencing songs today? What does TV’s Miami Vice and a drumming gorilla for a candy bar commercial have to do with any of this?  Read on.  

“In The Air Tonight”

Phil Collins

#19 Billboard Hot 100

August, 1981

    You told me you were drowning

    I would not lend a hand

    I’ve seen your face before my friend

    But I don’t know if you know who I am

 

     In the mid 1970’s, British progressive rock band Genesis was on a creative roll. Keyboardist Tony Banks, bassist/guitarist Mike Rutherford, and drummer/lead vocalist Phil Collins had shed their folk sounds (along with former frontman Peter Gabriel) and drifted ever closer to radio-friendly FM pop.  The group found their audience numbers increasing on both sides of the Atlantic.  In response, Genesis made their tours more lavish and extended.  This came at a personal price to Collins since his absence from home left wife Andrea Bertorelli alone to care for their two kids and dogs.  When Genesis began their lengthy 1976 Wind And Wuthering tour, Bertorelli was again left to care for the family by herself.  The strain was too much on their marriage and Andrea confessed to having an affair with a hired house painter.  Though Collins tried to save the marriage, by 1980 he and Bertorelli were divorced.  Genesis took a hiatus, which left the singer/songwriter alone at his home in Surrey, England with a lot of pent-up emotions and free time.   Collins explained to Mix Magazine:

   

    I had a wife, two children, two dogs, and the next day I didn’t have anything. So a lot of these songs were written because I was going through these emotional changes. I got back to find that I had a lot of time on my hands because the family wasn’t there, I rang up and said, ‘Can I have my drum machine?’ because I had to start writing some of this music that was inside me….’In the Air Tonight’ was just a CR-78 drum machine pattern. You could eliminate certain sounds and program bass drums and snare drums, so I programmed a bass drum part into it, but basically the rest of it was already on there.

   

    The disarmingly simple intro begins with just a downtempo drum machine beating low and deliberately.  Next, an ominous guitar chord buzzes into the atmosphere.  Daryl Stuemer recalled in an interview with Uncut magazine:

 

    My guitar part was done much later, in a studio in LA. I sat in the control room with Phil, and my amp was out in the studio, as loud as I could get it. I hit this chord, which Phil described as the sound of an electric razor, Rrrrzzzzz. People write me emails about that chord, asking what it [was]. The song’s in the key of D minor, but the chord itself has no minor notes. It’s a low A, and a D, and another A and a D. But it depends how you play it, it has to have that overdriven, distorted sound from the amp. It’s a distant sound, but a distant powerful sound. It’s a sound you imagine being deafeningly loud a mile away. 

       

     A repeating set of electric piano chords adds a new layer to the gathering darkness. Collins remembered:

 

    I was just fooling around. I got these chords that I liked, so I turned the mic on and started singing. The lyrics you hear are what I wrote spontaneously. That frightens me a bit, but I’m quite proud of the fact that I sang 99.9 percent of those lyrics spontaneously.  I was coming from Genesis recording and rehearsing history where sometimes we didn’t know what the vocal was going to be doing when we recorded the track because lyrics were sometimes written after the track was recorded. I remember the first principle I had for making my record was that I would get a voice down very quickly so everything else would fit to the voice. The lyrics you hear for ‘In the Air Tonight,’ I just sang. I opened my mouth and they came out. I never wrote anything down and then afterward, I listened to it and wrote them down.

   

    Collins says he later wrote the lyrics down on the back of a piece of old wallpaper.

    I can feel it coming

    In the air tonight, Oh Lord

    The listener can sense a sinister tone from the singer.  The next few lines have been interpreted in a number of ways.  

    Well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand
    I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am
    Well I was there and I saw what you did
    I saw it with my own two eyes
    So you can wipe off that grin
    I know where you’ve been
    It’s all been a pack of lies 

    One myth says the song is about how Collins witnessed a man rape his wife and then drowned.  Some think it’s about Collins seeing a man drown but was too far away to help.  The wildest urban legend is that Collins as a boy witnessed one man drown another in a pool and was unable to save him.  Collins then tracked down the culprit with the help of a private detective.  After giving the man free tickets to his next show – a spotlight was shown on the guilty person while Collins debuted the song.  Collins set the story straight with the BBC:

 

    I don’t know what this song is about. When I was writing this I was going through a divorce. And the only thing I can say about it is that it’s obviously in anger. It’s the angry side, or the bitter side of a separation. So what makes it even more comical is when I hear these stories which started many years ago, particularly in America, [sic] of someone come up to me and say, “Did you really see someone drowning?” I said, “No, wrong.” And then every time I go back to America the story gets Chinese whispers, it gets more and more elaborate. It’s so frustrating, ’cause this is one song out of all the songs probably that I’ve ever written that I really don’t know what it’s about, you know?

   

    To give added drama to Collins’ singing a vocoder effect was used (listen closely to the ‘Well I remember…‘).  Today, vocoders (or voice-decoders) are overused in pop music and culture yet in the early 1980’s, it was a rare, futuristic sound.  Originally developed by Bell Labs in the 1920’s as a way to send voice messages farther, the modern vocoder is basically a synthesizer with a microphone attached.  The raw, warbly sound of the singer’s processed voice is what avant-garde artist Laurie Anderson calls “the voice of authority”.  Let’s face it, a robot’s voice is hard to ignore. Vocoders were heavily used for the TV show voices of talking computers and robots such as the Cylons from Battlestar Galactica.  In a friendlier universe, Daft Punk used the vocoder effect on their hits “Get Lucky” and “One More Time”.

    The tune still has the steady, subtle beat of the drum machine until about 3:40.  Collins’ voice builds the song to a sonic climax as his drum kit delivers a powerful fill-in that fans call ‘The Magic Break.”  BBC music critic and broadcaster Stuart Maconie explained:

 

    It’s the drum sound in particular that’s amazing. You don’t hear it at all for the first two minutes of the song … then there’s that great doo-dom doo-dom doo-dom comes in, and the drums come in half way through the song, setting the template for all the Eighties drum songs after that.

   

    Producer Hugh Padgham had accidentally discovered that if you left a studio talk-back mic on, the result (especially from drums) was a compressed wall of sound that suddenly vanished.  Essentially, the resulting left-over sound from striking the drum was electronically removed as if having to pass through a ‘gate’.  The happy accident was coined ‘gated reverb.’  At the time Collins didn’t think much of his drumming on “In The Air Tonight” or of it being a viable song.  It was released as the vanguard single from At Face Value in January 1981.  It entered the UK charts at #36 and began a rapid ascension.  Collins wrote in 2007:

 

    It was a surprise…I did Top of the Pops with [presenter] Dave Lee Travis, and in one of the down moments he said, “This record is going to be a top three.” I didn’t believe him, because it had been made so haphazardly, but the next week, there it was at No. 3.

 

    Between tapings of his ‘Top of the Pops’ episode, a paint bench, paintbrush and can mysteriously appeared near Collins’ keyboard.   Could this have been a sign to his ex-wife about the affair?  Collins remarked that the strange additions made the set look good and that it was purely coincidental. 

     “In the Air Tonight” was held off from the top spot on the UK charts by John Lennon’s posthumous ‘Woman’ that August.  “In the Air Tonight” peaked in the US chart at #19 on the Hot 100.  It sold over 500,000 copies, certifying its ‘Gold’ status, yet was considered a minor hit at the time.   

    Like from a stone cast into a smooth pond, the ripples of success propelled the song into the fall and winter of 1981.  A small, ambitious cable network had just signed on showing only musical ‘videos’ and were eager for content.  The moody video for “In The Air Tonight” went into heavy rotation during the fledgling months of MTV’s existence.   When released for home video in 1983, it received a Grammy nomination for Best Video, Short Form.  In 1984, hip TV producer Michael Mann liked the song so much, he used it in the pilot episode of his new police action series Miami Vice. The ‘MTV Cops’ show was trendsetting for fashion, music and what was ‘cool’ about the 1980’s.   It also was the runaway hit in 1985 and added to the 4x platinum Miami Vice Soundtrack– forever linking the song with the show.  Collins used his signature song in all of his solo tours and in his reunions with Genesis.  Thanks in part to the Concorde he even played it on two different continents (London, UK & Philadelphia, USA) on the same calendar day for Live Aid, on July 13, 1985.  

    The influences of  “In The Air Tonight” continued into the latter half of the decade and beyond.  Gated reverb became ubiquitous with Collins’ many future hits (“Sussudio” and “Easy Lover” to name a few).  The cutting, punchy drum sound also created a distinct 80’s style that influenced many artists like Prince’s “Kiss”.  In 1988, a dutch DJ Ben Liebrand pushed a remix of “In the Air Tonight” to #4 on the charts in the UK.  In 2007, Cadbury chocolate company received Collins’ blessing for a lucrative TV advertisement.  The ad featured a CGI gorilla listening to “In the Air Tonight” through his ear buds.  As the camera pulled back, it revealed the gorilla waiting at a drum kit – soon pounding out the ‘Magic Break.’   The song re-re-charted, peaking at #14 in the UK and Cadbury got a 9% bump in sales. The 2009 movie The Hangover used the song as comedy fodder in a scene with Mike Tyson.  “In the Air Tonight” and Collins himself were used in a side-mission for the game Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories.  The song has gone platinum three times since being re-released as a digital single.  

Genesis has reassembled with their “The Last Domino?” tour scheduled to start in Glasgow April 1st, 2021.  When asked about the events that have led up to it all, Collins said:

 

    I have two sons back in Switzerland and my life is now focused around them, but I do know that I will continue to write songs. As for the gorilla, I might put him forward as the next drummer of Genesis.

 

    I’ve been waiting for this moment…

 

Between The Tracks

  • Imagine being the opening act for Janis Joplin, Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix – all before your 21st birthday. Jim Peterik did it and not only had one of the fastest-selling singles from a major label but also went on to co-write some of the biggest rock anthems of the 80s. It all started with a hot girl, an anti-drug pamphlet and a fumbling audio engineer.

Vehicle” 

The Ides of March

#2 Billboard Hot 100

May 1970

I’m a friendly stranger in the black sedan
Won’t you hop inside my car?
I got pictures, got candy
I’m a lovable man
And I can take you to the nearest star
 

     Jim Peterik was 15 years old in 1966 and fronting a suburban Chicago high school rock band called The Ides of March. They were previously known as The Shon-Dells until classmate and bassist Bob Bergland suggested a name change after reading Julius Caesar. The Ides of March had a minor hit that Summer with “You Wouldn’t Listen” that made it to #42 on the July Hot 100. Two years later, Jim had a chance encounter that would change his life. In an interview with The Tennessean, Jim shared the story of meeting Karen for the first time:

 

     So, you know I’m 17 years old. I’m a junior in high school. I’ve heard that my favorite band was coming to Riverside Brookfield High School, the Turtles…I showed up early and it was open seating, so I was there at 6 o’clock for an 8 o’clock concert near the front of the line waiting to get in. All of a sudden, this gaggle of girls is dancing next to me, and one is cuter than the next. I went, “Oh my God.” There was one girl that just had these big eyes and she wasn’t looking at me. She was playing it cool. I said to myself, “Well, that girl’s way out of my league. She’ll never talk to me.” Just then, she turned around and said, “Aren’t you Peterik?” I go, “Yeah.” She said, “I just saw your band, The Ides of March, last week. You opened for The New Colony Six. You guys were great.” I go, “There is a God.” My nerves broke down and we started talking like we had known each other for a hundred years. We’re talking about our favorite movies, and the other girls, as cute as they were, they just kind of disappeared and there was just this one girl.

      The concert ended, and my car was parked right in front. It was a ’65 Valiant, beautiful and white. I said, “Hey, do you want a ride home?” And she said, “Oh no. My dad would never let me do that, but you can walk me home to my girlfriend’s house.” So, I walked her home, memorized her phone number, and I said, “I’ll call you.” I couldn’t get up the nerve to call her for another week and she thought that I would never get up the nerve to call her. We started dating, and we went to a play at the high school. We were walking back to her house…she gave me the kiss of a lifetime. She was way more advanced than I was. I never had a kiss like that, and I floated home just like on gossamer wings, as they say.

 

     Many romantic dates followed over the next six months. Life was good until Karen wanted to see other people. Peterik shared with SongFacts:

 

     I was thoroughly heartbroken. I spent the next few months writing sad songs, depressive melodies, introspective garbage, and forcing the Ides to do long blues jams for our show encores. I was also on a mission to find another Karen. There was a girl who looked a lot like her, but when we started dating, I realized that personality was 9/10’s of the law. I guess I had to somehow win her back!

     One day I got a call from Karen. My heart jumped into my throat. She asked me if I could drive her to modeling school. Instead of playing it cool, I found myself saying, ‘I’ll be right over.’ I figured our proximity would remind her how much she really loved me. It was great riding next to her again, though I had to make sure I controlled my hands and my heart. This pattern continued for a few weeks with Karen asking me to drive her to various appointments and functions.

 

     While Karen continued helping herself to free travel, it was really Jim who was being taken for a ride. Meanwhile, The Ides of March gained momentum by adding Steve Daniels on trumpet with John Larsen and Chuck Soumar on horns. Bergland added occasional support on tenor sax. After adding Ray Herr as a rhythm guitarist/supporting vocalist, Peterik took over as lead guitar and soon secured the band a tentative recording contract with Warner Brothers. There was only one problem…no new material. Karen’s transactional friendship with Jim finally inspired him:

 

     One day in a fit of frustration, I heard myself blurt out to her ‘You know, all I am to you is your Vehicle’…Just then the light bulb popped up on top of my head and I thought about all the guys like me who don’t mind being taken for a ride by a beautiful girl. I said ‘See you later’ and started writing the song…I was sitting in high school biology with a lab partner. The lab partner was a real stoner. He’d come to school every day totally ripped. He was stoned one day. He was laughing his head off. He showed me this pamphlet that was circulating through the school. It had a little cartoon. It was an anti-drug pamphlet. This little cartoon of a friendly stranger and beware of this guy. I went home and said, “I got it. I’m the friendly stranger in the black sedan. Won’t you hop inside my car?” I knew that that was magic. The rhythm of the words, the whole thing, boom! Went to rehearsal that night, worked out the song. As soon as I heard that horn riff by my guys, The Ides of March, I had goose bumps. I knew this is something really special.

 

     “Vehicle” begins with a funky brass riff and a driving beat. The overall song rhythm and tight horn support have sometimes been mistaken for the band Blood, Sweat and Tears – a group Peterik loved and had seen only a few months prior. Soon, the sandy growl of Peterik offers the listener all kinds of trinkets to win a chance to get closer. The result is a catchy, trashy and fun-to-listen-to love song that clocks in at under three minutes. “Vehicle” was made-to-order for the increasingly popular FM radio market which boasted higher fidelity and stereophonic sound. Amazingly, The Ides of March didn’t put much stock in the song being a hit.

 

      We totally devalued it as a recording song. It went over great live, and for some reason, we thought it was a great live song but would never be a hit, maybe because it was so simple. We thought so little of it, we put it fourth of four songs on the demo we sent to Warner Brothers. They get it and go, ‘Forget these first three, number four is a smash.’ We go, ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ At that point, we started thinking, ‘Maybe we’ve got a hit here.’

      We went to Art Roberts, who was kind of this disc jockey/guru here at WLS, probably the most powerful jock in Chicago…The managers brought it to him, and he said, ‘That’s a smash. All you’ve got to do is add the answers to the ‘Love You, Need You’s’, and you’ve got a #1 record.’ It’s funny that we never thought of adding the answers, the call and response. It seems so obvious now, but that was his idea.

 

     Audio frontiers were continuously pushed in the late 1960s and early ’70s. Increasing numbers of instruments could be recorded simultaneously onto multitrack equipment without the need for time-consuming overdubs or mixdowns. Engineers had just installed a new, untested 16 track analog tape recorder into the Chicago studio where The Ides of March assembled to cut their single. Since all the sound was recorded directly to magnetic tape, there was no ‘undo’ button if something was erased or accidentally recorded over. It would be permanently gone. If an edit had to be made during a song, you would have to use a splicing block, a razor blade and divine guidance to sync the beat of one loose strip of magnetic tape to the other strip.

     Peterik’s band pulled out all the stops to lay down a sizzling, inspired first take and had enough energy for a second. Everything was perfect until later that evening. Peterik recalled the scene for The Wall Street Journal:

 

      We were doing background vocals and suddenly 14 seconds were gone from the master. No way to retrieve it. The second engineer had hit the wrong button. We spent two hours thinking our career is over, because at this time we knew we had something. Luckily, there was a Take One. They inserted 14 seconds of Take One and I redid the vocals. And now I hear it every time. From the second “Great God in heaven” all the way up to the guitar solo—-when you hear how abrupt that first note of the solo sounds, that’s an edit.

 

     If you listen closely, you can hear the edit at 1:28 before the beginning of Peterik’s spirited, experimental guitar solo. “Vehicle” sold so well that it became the fastest-selling Warner Brothers single, reaching #2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Ides of March soon began touring as the opening act for Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Allman Brothers and the Grateful Dead. After a hiatus, Peterik got a phone call from a familiar voice. He related the conversation with The Tennessean:

 

     ‘Hey, Jim. You know, I just heard your ‘Vehicle’ record.’“I said, “Is this Karen?”  ‘Yeah. You know my voice,’ and I said, “Yeah.” “She said, I’ve been thinking it over. Maybe we should start seeing each other again.’ I let her hang on that phone for like a real dramatic three seconds. I said, ‘Yeah, sounds good.’

 

     Karen and Jim reunited shortly thereafter. After the Ides of March broke up, Jim went from band to band until deciding on a strange solo act. He shared the story with SongFacts:

 

     When I changed my name to Chalmers Garseny, I thought I was going to be the next Elton John. I hadn’t a clue that I wasn’t that guy. I wasn’t going to be Elton John, I wasn’t going to be Cat Stevens, Paul Simon. I would have loved to have been, but I’m a rocker. Those guys can bare their soul and do it well. I need to have a little support from a band. This Chalmers Garseny thing, it was just hilarious sitting in some record company office and my manager is going, “Yes, and Chalmers here will be going on the road.” And when he said, “And Chalmers here,” I went, oh, no, no, no. I can’t be Chalmers Garseny.

 

     Peterik/Garseny released Don’t Fight the Feeling in 1976 but it was a dud. In 1978, he got back to his rock roots when his roadie begged him to talk to guitarist friend Frankie Sullivan. During that first meeting, the band Survivor was formed. Peterik co-penned several of their early hits including “Somewhere In America” which made #70 on the 1979 Hot 100. In 1981, they had another hit “Poor Man’s Son” from Premonition which made it to #33. By then Sullivan and Peterik were also co-writing songs originally meant for Survivor but somehow bounced to other bands like .38 Special. The southern rock group took “Rockin’ Into the Night”, “Hold On Loosely” and “Caught Up In You” and made them into hit records. In 1982, “Poor Man’s Son” got the attention of actor/director Sylvester Stallone who was looking for a similar song to be featured in Rocky III because he couldn’t get the song he intended to use. Peterik recalled the desperate phone conversation in an interview with Dutch television:

 

     So here’s me, a kid from a small town in Illinois talking to my hero Sylvester Stallone. I didn’t know what to say. He says, ‘Well look. I really like your band, Survivor. That’s the sound I want for my new movie – Rocky III. Can you help me out?’ I go, ‘Are you kidding me? Yeah I can help you out.’ I called Frankie [Sullivan]…and he came over and we put the [rough draft of the movie montage] cartridge in and we see the action and we hear [singing] ‘bum, bum, bum…Another One Bites The Dust’” I go ”Hey Sly, you [already] got a song.’… He goes ‘Yeah, can’t use it – couldn’t get the publishing rights.’ Every day I thank God to Queen that they wouldn’t give him the publishing!

 

     The timeless Survivor song “Eye of the Tiger” was the result of Sullivan and Peterik’s collaboration. The single went #1 for six weeks, went double platinum, won a Grammy and was nominated for an Oscar for ‘Best Song’. Peterik also co-wrote the follow-up hit “Burning Heart” for Rocky IV. Before leaving the band in 1988, he co-penned other hits like “The Search Is Over” and “High on You”.

     Peterik reunited with The Ides of March in 1990 and continues to perform with them today (their 50th anniversary was in 2014). He also continues to write songs for other bands like The Doobie Brothers and Cheap Trick. In 2006, Peterik released his latest solo album Above the Storm. He also co-wrote the book Songwriting for Dummies.

     Fifty years later, “Vehicle” continues to find its way into pop culture. General Motors thought the song was a good fit for their 2001 national ad campaigns. Various artists have covered “Vehicle” including Tom Jones and Shirley Bassey. Bo Bice used the song to catapult him to the runner-up spot in the fourth season of American Idol. Remember Karen? She married Jim in 1996 and they are still together. Some relationships, like black sedans, are just made to last.

 

Between The Tracks

  • Can a one hit wonder be a hit – twice? This is more than a rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-riches story. It’s about how one person’s kindness can make all the difference.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aWhn0Hc8ps

“Into The Night”

Benny Mardones

#11 Hot 100

September, 1980


𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮⁣
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵⁣
𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭⁣
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 f𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵⁣

     In 1946, Benny Mardones (Ruben Armand Mardones) was born in Cleveland, Ohio. When Benny was a baby, his father left the family and eventually settled back to his native Chile. The anger and emptiness of not having a father figure affected Benny deeply for the rest of his life. Once out of high school, he joined the Navy and served a tour in Vietnam. After an honorable discharge, he moved to New York City to become a singer/songwriter. By 1977, Mardones had a minor album hit 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 (with guitar by Mick Ronson) and had written a few songs for Brenda Lee and Chubby Checker. Mardones soon became roommates with fellow songwriter Bobby Tepper while living in Spanish Harlem. A family of five was in the same apartment complex. The kids (15, 16 & 17) were always hanging out around the building and were quick friends of ‘Benny the Rockstar’. Mardones recalled in an interview with SongFacts:

    

     𝘚𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘐 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 17-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘫𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, “𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘞𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 24-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.” 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.

    

     Mardones remembered his own sense of loss and hurt because of his absentee father. He felt the kids needed something to look forward to after school and paid them well to run errands as well as clean his apartment. The 16 year old took the loss the hardest because she was closest to her dad. ⁣

 

  𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘏𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘪, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘐 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦,” 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘡𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘺…𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘦𝘺. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘡𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 $50 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

 

     One late night in 1980, Tepper and Mardones were working on songs for the first album Never Run, Never Hide for Polydor records. The recording sessions were in a week and both songwriters thought they already had their hit “It Might Have Been Love”. After opening the blinds, the two discovered it was already daylight. They had been toiling through the wee hours of the morning through numerous melodies with nothing to show for it.⁣

 

     𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 [𝘏𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘪] 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴, 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴, 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 16-𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨-𝘰𝘯-21. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?” 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦.” 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯, 𝘡𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘺,” 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴, “𝘖𝘩, 𝘮𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥.” 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘏𝘦𝘺, 𝘉𝘰𝘣. 𝘚𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.” 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘉𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺.” 𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨), “𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺.” 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 (𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨), “𝘚𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘵.” 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴, “𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯.” 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 “𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵.” 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺’𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴; 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴. “𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵” – 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 16-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭. ⁣

 

  The melody to “Into The Night” has its roots firmly in late 70’s soft rock. It begins with an interplay between rhythm guitar and a latin-inspired minor piano riff. Mardones’ voice is soft and tender he speaks platonically to the subject, wanting a better life for her if things had been different. As the song progresses his intimate, heartfelt vocals (especially during the bridge) rise the emotion to a crescendo. Its a goosebumps moment during the final chorus:⁣

 

𝘖𝘩 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺⁣
𝘐’𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱⁣
𝘐’𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵⁣
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦⁣
𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯⁣

 

  When the single was released in June, “Into The Night” encountered some roadblocks. R&B radio stations refused to play it when it was discovered Mardones was white. Pop stations wouldn’t play it because it sounded like an older man dating a 16-year-old girl. Polydor sent out 3,000 letters to stations across the country, explaining the true history of the song and “Into The Night” was soon in rotation. When legendary New York DJ Scott Muni found the song, he invited Mardones to come sing on his WNEW-FM radio show 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘦. Muni off-handedly asked if there really was a girl in the song’s story so Mardones invited Heidi to come to the studio with him:⁣

 

     𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘪 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 “𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘫𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.” 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 “𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘴.” 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.” ⁣

 

      “Into The Night” began its 20 week ascension on the pop charts. It reached #11 on the September Hot 100 for two weeks. Mardones was the first white artist in over ten years that had a Top Ten hit for Polydor. You couldn’t turn on a car radio without hearing that Summer’s anthem. Heidi had a remarkable turn of success as well. Mardones remembered: ⁣

     

     𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈-𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘊𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 18 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘚𝘢𝘯 𝘑𝘶𝘢𝘯, 𝘗𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘰. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘯 𝘑𝘶𝘢𝘯, 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸…𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.” 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 “𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.” ⁣

     

     Mardones’ meteoric rise to fame unfortunately gave him more money than sense. He recalled:⁣ ⁣

   

      𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮, 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘶𝘯, 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭. 𝘞𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘰. 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘋𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 (1981 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮) 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘔𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘛𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴. 𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘐 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵. ⁣

    

     Polydor quickly dropped Mardones as an artist and was considered unsignable due to his tantrums and addiction. In 1985, Mardones’ son, Michael was born. That day, everything changed.

    

     𝘏𝘦 [𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭] 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 – 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦, 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 – 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥-𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘐 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘱𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦.”…𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.” 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴….𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴, 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺.⁣

    

     Mardones continued to raise Michael as a single dad and began an unorthodox rehab program.⁣

 

     𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘢𝘻𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯, 𝘞𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘯, 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘺𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴…𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸…𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘶𝘯, 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘏𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘔𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘛𝘰 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵. ⁣

    

     The Syracuse citizens took Mardones under their collective wing, nurturing both himself and Michael. Mardones played at small area shows that showcased his intimate singing style but there was little interest beyond the Central New York area. An amazing second chance came in 1989 when a Phoenix DJ ran a popular “Where Are They Now?” segment about Mardones. Los Angeles DJ Scott Shannon was inspired by the piece and added “Into The Night” to his station’s playlist. Soon radio stations all over the US were adding the song. At the age of 33, Mardones’ song re-charted on the Top 40, peaking at #20. As the single climbed, Mardones realized he had no record deal behind it. ⁣

 

     𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘣 [𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘣 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴] 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺….𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘣 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘑𝘰𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘷𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 16 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺, 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘨 [𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘥𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵] 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮.” 𝘑𝘰𝘯 𝘉𝘰𝘯 𝘑𝘰𝘷𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘣. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.⁣

    

  After releasing several non-charting albums and maintaining a small but loyal fan base, Mardones had embraced his one hit wonder status. He also held a rare honor. “Into The Night” is one of only ten singles in Billboard history that has charted twice in the Top 20. The most recent double-hit was The Four Seasons’ “December 1963 (Oh What A Night)” which topped the charts in 1976 and made it to #14 in 1994. Mardones was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2000 an passed June 29, 2020 at the age of 73.⁣  Mardones’ kindness and energy influenced many people. It has come back around to save himself, too. He was a big local celebrity in Central New York which supported him during his rehab years and beyond. Roy Orbison once told him, “You have the greatest circle of friends of anybody I’ve ever met.” Mardones remembered:⁣

     𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 – 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

     Sources: SongFacts, Wikipedia