Page 93 - My FlipBook 1

handed out at the beginning of the night but that thing? I swear: Most. People. Do. Get nervous in dio, against the back wall.
only she, Kenny Rogers, Ruth Pointer of the Pointer front of a camera. I don’t care who they are. I He asked Kragen if he could review the video foot-
Sisters, and Al Jarreau wore. remember, the first Academy Awards I did, I was a age before the first bits of it were edited and released
She tore her burger in half and gave half to Trbo- stage manager. And I remember Katharine Hep- to the press in the coming days as a one-minute clip.
vich. “She said, Come here, come here. You hav- burn digging her nails into my hand before she Sternberg turned to Jackson and said of course, and
en’t eaten,” he says, one of his clearest memories walked out there to this live audience.” that she would send it to his home.
of the night and one of the few he didn’t see through “Tell you what, Bob,” Jones said. “Stevie!” “What’s your address?” Sternberg asked.
a lens. “I don’t wanna say she was—let’s just say she He and Dylan met Wonder over at a piano, and He looked at her for a second, then said, “I just
had been difficult other times I had worked with Wonder played the chords of the song. All three know how to get there through the back streets.”
her,” he says. But this was a different kind of of them tried to sing like Dylan, in unison. Even
moment, a different Diana Ross. Wonder was doing his best Dylan impression, right IN MARCH OF THIS YEAR, RICHIE WAS BEING
there, to Dylan, to show Dylan how to sing this interviewed about the death of his friend and col-
1965 part like Dylan. laborator Kenny Rogers (who was also managed by
Before he walked down to one of the CYO dances on Fri- “There’s a choice wehr makin’, wehr see-vin ah Kragen) when he mused briefly about re-creating
day nights in Freehold, New Jersey, the awkward kid own lives. Iss choo we make a brightah dee, jes “We Are the World” to raise money to fight COVID-19.
who played guitar would first smear some Clearasil on yooo and meee.” “I must admit,” he said, “every once in a while, God
his acne. He didn’t have a lot of friends, unless you Dylan was rocking back and forth by now, sing- has to do something to get us back on track.”
counted the hardscrabble dudes he played music with. ing along with himself. Starting to feel it. Behind this But he knew organizing something like that was
The kid’s father, who worked at the Nescafé plant in little work session, the other players milled around. unlikely. Certainly not in the sudden, haphazard,
town, would be sitting at the kitchen table, starting on Ingram, Jarreau, Joel, Springsteen, Richie. But when Sure, let’s-do-it, call-Quincy-and-Bruce way they’d
a beer. They lived next door to a gas station. After the it came time for Dylan to record his part, Jones gave done it in 1985. No, it’s a different world.
dance, the kid would usually come home and stay up a little nod, and the room pretty much cleared. Only “We came in like little kids on their first day of kin-
late—for a sixteen-year-old—playing his Kent guitar, sin- Wonder remained, at the piano, as a kind of com- dergarten,” Richie says, “and we were all kind of look-
gle pickup, sunburst design, up in his room, unplugged fort. And Trbovich, camera ever on his shoulder. ing at each other, but we didn’t quite—‘Oh my God,
so he didn’t keep anybody awake. When his father got Dylan stood, black leather jacket zipped up, one there’s that kid over there, and there’s that other kid
pissed off, you could see the darkness behind his eyes, thumb hooked in a belt loop, holding the sheet over there.’ Everyone was kind of freaked out stand-
and the darkness sometimes kept the boy up for hours. music up to his face, and sang it three or four times. ing next to each other for a brief moment, and then
It could be a lonely town, Freehold. That was like “Is that sorta it? Sorta like that?” Dylan asked, all of a sudden we realized: It’s not about us! We’re
any town, of course. But Doug and Adele Springsteen’s barely looking up. actually using our voice and our celebrity to save
only son didn’t just live in a lonely town; he lived in a Jones walked out and embraced him, and for the some people, and it’s about us giving everything we
lonely house. first time that night Dylan’s face spread into a smile. have to save their lives. So I think the brilliance of
When he wasn’t playing his guitar, he listened to He took a deep breath and walked back over to that evening was, we started out as forty-five artists
records. (He had sold his little pool table to pay for where the risers were. Springsteen stepped forward. looking at each other and going, ‘Yeah, I’m famous,
the guitar, so that was out.) And in late 1965, he was Headphones on, Springsteen moved his hips in and you’re famous . . . .’ We left as a family.”
usually listening to one of the two albums that had a workingman’s dance, hearing the track as he Sternberg that night had one last concern: phone
been released that year by Bob Dylan, Highway 61 waited to come in with his part. Jones later said calls to the press. She had reporters lined up at The
Revisited and Bringing It All Back Home. Springsteen was “one of the hardest-working cats New York Times, The Washington Post, and the Los
“How does it feel to be on your own?” I’ve ever met before in my life. I kept waiting for Angeles Times. From among the few people left in
Bruce knew how it felt. And when he heard those him to get tired and sit down and rest. He kept say- Studio A, she asked for volunteers. Richie could
songs, over and over, he knew Dylan knew how it felt, ing, ‘Want me to do it again?’ ” barely keep his eyes open. Ross declined.
to need to get out of some place. Dylan, this kid Bruce He sang the words as if a child were dying in his Steve Perry, who had been the first one to arrive
would write in his life story more than fifty years later, arms right then and there, his sandpaper rasp trail- the night before, said, “Okay!” And he and Stern-
“is the father of my country.” ing into something like grief at the end of each line. berg rode over to the offices of Kragen and Com-
When he’d finished, he opened his eyes and shuf- pany in West Hollywood.
5:00 a.m. fled away from the mic. His peers broke into Kragen looked around at the empty studio. Cords
“IT CAN BE LIKE HALF SINGING, HALF TALKING.” applause, especially Diana Ross, sitting cross-legged snaked across the floor. Empty Budweisers and Sty-
Jones was talking to Dylan. The producer was on the piano bench behind him. Springsteen, a rofoam cups and crumpled papers littered tables.
reassuring him that he could do his solo. The ham, flapped his hands, as if telling the crowd, He adjusted his big glasses and put on his sport coat
unusual nasal sound of Dylan’s voice was what “More! More!” Then, “Thank you, thank you!” over his white usa for africa sweatshirt. He walked
made him Dylan, but in that room of recognizable Jones said, “Well, that takes care of that.” out into the chilly light. It felt almost strange to be
voices, he appeared nervous and unsure. Even as outside again, after being in the studio for so many
Jones talked him through his solo, encouraging him, 8:20 a.m. eventful hours. He unlocked the door of his Jaguar
James Ingram, the supersmooth soul voice who “IT’S ONLY TWENTY AFTER EIGHT,” PAUL and the alarm system began blaring into the other-
was presently wearing a really cool tracksuit, Simon said, laughing, to Jones, who had arranged wise quiet air—and he had no idea how to turn it off.
strolled behind them. Warwick, whose vocal cords the strings on his 1973 song “Something So Right.” He got in the car and tried everything—the key,
were made of honey, sat on the risers nearby. People began filing out, reuniting with what few the alarm button, nothing worked. And the engine
Dylan crinkled his eyes at Jones. of their family and friends remained. Carnes wouldn’t start unless he left the door open. He lived
“Did somebody else sing it already, on the track?” cracked the door open to catch a ride with a friend just a few miles away, in the Holmby Hills neigh-
“Huh?” of hers who had been there all night. “I just remem- borhood, way down Sunset. Screw it. He started
“So I can hear it?” ber being shocked that it was so light outside, that the engine, put it in gear, and drove the whole way
Trbovich was filming all of this. And yeah, he the sun was up,” she says. with his door open, the car’s lights flashing, and
says, Dylan was nervous. “But can I tell you some- Jackson, meanwhile, stood clear across the stu- the alarm blaring.

93 SUMMER 2020