It's Impossible

Some Perry Como for my Dad's birthday

Today would have been my Dad’s 83rd birthday. Tonight at karaoke I’ll be doing a tribute set for him, including this song. (I’m also doing Home for the Holidays, which I wrote about last year.)

Perry Como was the soundtrack of my childhood. My parents’ musical taste intersected with him. Both loved him beyond reason. They saw him live a couple of times (travelling to Buffalo to do it!) and one of my dad’s cherished possessions was a concert program that Perry (always Perry at my house) had autographed. Perry's Christmas specials were anxiously awaited affairs. My dad had been exposed to jazz greats as a teenager thanks to his brother in law, who was a jazz trumpeter and he loved a smooth voice. (Mel Tormé, who he saw at that time, is also on the list tonight.)

It makes me sad that currently Tony Bennett is feted and Perry practically forgotten. My Dad said Bennett sounded like a hog-caller so that’s how he was referred to in our house. It wasn’t like Perry was out of touch - a lot of his output was covering contemporary songs, even as popular music moved into rock and roll. (The first time I heard Bridge Over Troubled Water was Perry’s version.) As an adult and a singer, I’ve come to really appreciate Perry’s phrasing. This track is my favourite of all Perry’s songs. It’s from late in Perry’s career, being recorded in 1970, which is probably why I love it. I’m such a sucker for 70s easy listening. (And this one hit number 1 on that chart, as well as being nominated for a Grammy as Song of the Year in 1971.)

The other reason I really love it is that it feels different than the rest of his catalog. It may have to do with it being a cover of a song written by Mexican songwriter Armando Manzanero a couple of years earlier called Somos Novios. That version has become one of the most popular boleros of all time and was one of the inaugural inductions for the Latin Grammy Hall of Fame.

The version that Perry recorded in 1970 was translated by Elvis film collaborator Sid Wayne, who wrote it as a love letter to his wife Rhea. Why it went to Perry instead of Elvis may have to do with Elvis no longer doing films. Perry had hosted many variety shows on television going back to the beginning of that artform but by this point he was only doing specials. Wayne must have crossed paths with him many times and felt confident he’d do the song justice. Elvis did record it as well, as part of a live recording.

The arrangement by Marty Manning (one of his final recordings) is Perry’s usual lush orchestra but it doesn’t overwhelm the song. A plaintive violin opens the song and runs as a theme throughout. Ernest Altschuler (Tony Bennett’s longtime producer) produced it and the engineer was long time Como collaborator Bob Simpson. This entire team was part of the RCA stable, the label Perry spent his career with.

A 4 years ago I found out another artist I really admire, Roch Voisine, had also covered it. He does it justice but it’s not Perry.

I will end with this live version from 1977 on the British chat show Parkinson. It features a jazz arrangement by the show’s house band, The Harry Stoneham Five. The piano by Nick Perito is really lovely and I like how Perry has adapted his phrasing for this stripped down arrangement.

Enjoy your song of the day. And happy birthday, Dad. Miss you.