What happens when "perfect" isn't?

In the late 80s, as the CD became the music industry’s darling new format, many of us (in between purchasing the “of the moment essentials” like ahhh… Mike & The Mechanics) began to replace our most important LPs. You know the ones with the deep skips and the pops and crackles that replicated your favorite ski resort’s fireplace over Christmas break. And the record labels complied by reissuing older albums with bonus tracks.

Capitol Records did it as well as anyone, especially with the classic Sinatra catalogue from the 50’s. And that’s where I found perfection; a bonus track on the Only The Lonely LP from 1958 that I’d never heard before, Sleep Warm.  Take a listen to it now.

I know! Crazy good!!  An incomparable melody, arranged impeccably by Nelson Riddle. A lyric as romantic as ever written - Rest your head on the pillow, what a lucky pillow. Close to you, so close to you. All night - and Sinatra’s vocal; perfect timbre, perfect delivery; the very definition of a perfect aural orgasm.

And then I read the credits: Lew Spence/Marilyn Keith (Bergman)/Alan Bergman. Holy Shit! These were three of my parent’s closest friends. How had this song slipped by me?  They had written Nice ‘n’ Easy together. I had played The Hall of The Mountain King on acoustic guitar for the Bergman’s when I was 12. For chrissakes, Lew Spence had named our dog, Max Budapest.  This was unfrickinbelievable!

I called my Dad. “Sleep warm? Yeah. Sinatra sang it as his closing song each week on his TV show. Nice tune.  Ask Lew about it when he’s here next. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you about it.”  And so the next time I saw Lew, I gushingly told him how much I loved his song.

Oh, god. I wish I hadn’t.

Now understand, Lew Spence was one of the gentlest men I ever met. A lifelong bachelor, he was always smiling and upbeat.  Besides Nice “n” Easy with the Bergman’s, he had written a number of romantic songs with Sammy Cahn that Sinatra had recorded; So Long My Love, Half as Lovely (Twice As True as well as another beautiful song first recorded by Fred Astaire, called That Face (more on that later).  And he was always genuinely happy to see my brother and I (no, he was straight). So it was doubly surprising when he immediately stiffened and spat out a “what a piece of crap” before proceeding to tell me the story behind the song.

As Lew told it, evidently Sinatra was hours late for the morning session and when he finally did arrive, he did so hung over and accompanied by two ladies of the evening.  In a sour mood from the moment go, he recorded a take or two and then left for the day. And my perfect delivery?  Here’s Lew’s take. “We wrote the lyric with the Sinatra from 1954 in mind, when he had full control over his breathing.  That way, the “w” at the end of the word “pillow” would naturally segue into the “w” at the beginning of the word “what” without the need for him to take an extra breath. Well, in 1958 he couldn’t do that and he butchered the song.”

Now, listen to the song again, especially that one line. Hear how clipped it is? Damn it, I can’t hear anything but that now.

Lew passed away earlier this year at 87. But he left us with one more classic story. First, take a listen to That Face.

Beside the bewitchingly catch melody (listen to it once and it’ll run around your head the rest of the day), what I love most about this song is its lyric, which is the essence of purity: simply a plaintive ode to the power and immediacy of first blushing infatuation. And John Pizzarelli’s rendition is pure magic; a clean, simple piano against a gentle bossa-nova rhythm. This song just makes me happy. This one again is very versatile; outdoor summer, late night, wine-tasting, or romantic dinner for two.

And now the story. For my father’s 75^th birthday, we made an hour long film of his life for which we interviewed a number of family and friends, Lew Spence being one of them. At the end of his interview Lew sang a new version of That Face with lyrics specially created for my dad in acknowledgement of their deep, 50 year friendship. The lyrics were funny and touching and brought the house down. A moment my brother and I will always treasure.

Now cut to 10 years later. My brother and I are attending Lew’s memorial service where his friends and family take turns sharing memories and performing his beautiful songs.  And now someone is at the microphone and introducing a “special” version of That Face “which Lew had written for one of his dearest friends.” And my brother and I share a look, touched that my father would be remembered here, now. Except… the lyrics were written for someone named… Pinky… and we shortly find out that not only had Lew written “special” lyrics for Pinky AND my Dad, he had written other “special” lyrics for a number of his friends… a large number. Evidently, it was a template to commemorate his many friendships.

You know what? If I had written it, I would have done the same thing. It’s that good of a song.

Sleep warm, Lew.