When people ask me who my favorite songwriter of all time is, I always answer, without hesitation, Irving Berlin. This is a lie I’ve employed for many years, because I’ve noticed that people can be somewhat put-off when I say that I am, infact, my favorite songwriter of all time. Apparently, to some, I come off as egotistical when I say that, for some reason.
But Irving Berlin comes as a close second. I adore his work, and from what little can be gathered about a man from reading biographies and studying his work, I love him as a man also. Let me try to explain why.
Irving Berlin IS the twentieth century. Israel Isidore Baline (son of Jewish American immigrants) was born in 1888 and died in 1989. He wrote songs for movies (”Top Hat”, “Easter Parade”), shows (”There’s No Business Like Show Business”) and popular singers like Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby and Ethel Merman. He adapted his songwriting to fit the fads of the 20th century as they passed…. from ragtime (Alexander’s Ragtime Band, 1911) to swing (The Yam, 1938) and even, a bit late, jumped on the bandwagon of the “integrated” musicals of the 50’s (”Annie Get Your Gun”). He even wrote a song about his ability to move with the fads, called “Time Marches On”:
“There’ll be a change in music / A change in rhythm/
A change in dancing / But I’ll be right with’em”
He couldn’t read music, and had an idiosyncratic, untrained method of playing the piano.
Although his melodies could be quite sophisticated, he was content to refine the format of popular song to absolute perfection, and he never seemed tempted to fool around with symphonic music, like George Gershwin. And although his lyrics were equally sophisticated, he was NOT a cynic, unlike Cole Porter, and Ira Gershwin. He was an optimist, a patriot, and a populist, in the best sense of the word. His music was positive and full of love and compassion. Of all the lyricists of his era, Irving’s words were, arguably, the most topical.
Irving saw some action as a soldier in WWI, and wrote the song “Oh How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning”, about his disdain for the Army bugler. (He actually made a famous recording of himself singing this song; the only time he sang his own material for commercial release.)
In 1927, the first words spoken in the first feature length “talkie” were “You ain’t heard nothin’ yet!”. The movie was “the Jazz Singer”, the actor was Al Jolson and the song that followed that line was “Blues Skies”, by Irving Berlin.
During the great depression, he wrote many songs of hope and appreciation of the little things, like “Sitting in the Sun”.
“Sitting in th sun, counting my money, fanned by a summer breeze /
Sweeter than honey is counting my money, those greenbacks on the trees.”
During the 1940’s Irving berlin was like the official musical reporter assigned to cover WWII. He wrote stirring songs of patriotism, like “God Bless America”, inspirational songs for draftees, like “This is the Army, Mr. Jones”, tear jerkers for the wives and girlfriends left behind, and even songs that expressed American’s aggression, in a way that wouldn’t go over as well today, like “When That Man is Dead and Gone”, (the man being, of course, Adolph Hitler).
Can you imagine the palpable wave of emotion that must have passed over the throngs of weary soldiers stationed abroad, when Bing Crosby, on Christmas season USO tours, crooned Berlin’s mega-hit “White Christmas”?
Irving is a songwriter’s songwriter… a master craftsman with great respect for the formulas of popular song, even as he broke and reshaped them. He also wrote a lot of pop music about pop music, (”A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody”, “The Song is Ended”, “Play a Simple Melody”, “Say it With Music”, and, most revealingly, “I Poured My Heart Into a Song”).
But this installment of A Song I Wish I’d Written is dedicated to an Irving Berlin masterpiece that has a charming story behind it. These anecdotes of celebrated lives are sometimes told and retold until they hardly resemble the truth, but the story goes as follows: Irving had a terrible case of writer’s block, for the first time in his career. This unprecedented difficulty filled him with anxiety, which was keeping him up nights. Irving went to his Doctor, and said he couldn’t sleep from worry, even after resorting to counting sheep. His Doctor reminded him of how much joy his work brought to people, and how lucky he was to have risen from poverty to riches by writing music, and advised him to replace counting sheep, with counting blessings.
That night, Irving wrote the following couplet:
“If you’re worried, and you can’t sleep/
Just count your blessings instead of sheep.”
“Counting Your Blessings” is another song I wish I’d written, and quite an appropriate sentiment for Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, and remember to count your blessings.
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