TEAM LAST CALL

Barry Manilow is a lot of things, and “reserved” is not one of them. And the mawkish music legend is every bit as dynamic in conversation as he is on record, whether he’s talking about how he created the power ballad, hamming it up about his age or discussing the fact that he’s become a walking punch line.

In the past four years, Manilow, now 65, has padded his already staggering career numbers with the release of a series of albums covering the “greatest hits” of the ’50s, ’60s, ’70s and ’80s (The Greatest Songs of The Eighties hit shelves in November) and a wildly successful Vegas show.

Team Last Call: Between this series of albums and the Vegas show, you’ve had what could be considered a real career renaissance over the last four years or so. What’s that been like for you?
Barry Manilow: I don’t consider it a renaissance. I never went away! I’ve just been doing my thing for all these years. Artists like myself, it’s like a roller-coaster. It just keeps going, and sometimes it’s very high and sometimes it’s low. But with me, the lows haven’t been too low, thank goodness. And the highs have been thrilling.

TLC: In the ’90s, your focus shifted to cover material, by and large, and I’ve seen you lament that fact in a few interviews. Can you talk about that?
BM: It’s all about Clive Davis and his wisdom about what records will sell. As a creator myself, I always want to create an original. But like he does with every artist on his label, he says, “It’s not always about being creative. It’s about what the public will like.” Since I’m an arranger and I’m a musician and producer, I can figure out how to make [cover material] work without feeling like I’m giving everything away. I see the fun in it. There does come a point every so often where I say, “Stop! I have to release an original thing. Stop! I have to do one for myself.”

TLC: I imagine it’s an interesting tug of war, with these albums debuting at number one, number two …
BM: If they all were released and they all just died on the vine, it would have been easy to just say, “Well, I gave it a try, and now I’ll go back to doing my original stuff and join the rest of the out-of-work composers and struggle along.” But [Clive’s] got this incredible talent of being able to zero in on what the public would like, so I am the grateful recipient of this man’s gift. Plus, my original stuff will never sell as well as what Clive gives me. But it will give me so much encouragement and so much inspiration that I can ride on that for the next couple of years, if he’s interested in coming up with some other cockamamie idea for a cover record.

TLC: You’re nominated for a Grammy for In the Swing of Christmas. What does that kind of thing mean to you at this point in your career?
BM: It’s a wonderful thing. They find me now and again and they give me a nod. It’s great. I didn’t expect that at all. What was interesting is that this Christmas album had nothing to do with Clive, had nothing to do with popularity, had nothing to do with charts. Isn’t that interesting? It had nothing to do with commercial success or having a committee listen to it and say, “Hey, we like this!”

TLC: People have this idea of Barry Manilow as a balladeer, like Johnny Mathis, but you’ve protested that in the past.
BM: Maybe some of the real big hits were ballads. But even my beautiful old ballads had a lot of passion, where Johnny, who I’m a great big fan of, sings much more gently. Keep in mind, I’ve always been on the border of rock and roll. As a matter of fact, people credit me for inventing the power ballad, which I think I might have done. “Mandy” was the first power ballad. They keep copying that style, with the piano and [how] the song builds and the key changes and the ending. They still do it. So therefore, I don’t know why people think all I do is sit at a piano and sing love songs. Boy, that’s about the last thing I do.

TLC: It’s been about 35 years since “Mandy” …
BM: Boy, am I an old fart! Holy mackerel! Thanks for reminding me.

TLC: Sorry about that. So, when you were that kid, being transformed into a pop superstar, are you thinking at that point, “I might have a career in 2009”?
BM: Oh, never. Never. But I’ll tell you what I did think: I knew I would land on my feet. I never thought I’d have this kind of career. But even when it began, it didn’t matter to me, and hey, it still doesn’t. I know that it sounds ungrateful, and I don’t mean it to sound ungrateful, but this career, the money, the huge success, doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I get the opportunity to still do it, and for that I am grateful, so grateful to the public and to the record companies and to Clive. But I don’t do it for anything but [the fact that] I can’t not do it. If I hadn’t been successful, I probably would have been really unhappy – but I wouldn’t have stopped.

TLC: You’re bringing the Ultimate Manilow show to Reading. Do you ever sort of impress yourself with the amount of hits you pack into the set?
BM: Impress myself? [laughs] Yeah, sometimes it’s overwhelming. It is. That I can fill up 90 minutes with music that everybody knows – that’s pretty amazing.

TLC: So, you’re this hugely successful and beloved artist, and on the other hand, one of the most mocked. What do you make of that polarity?
BM: You know, the bigger you get, the more you get [ridiculed]. A lot of people like what I do, and a lot of people have trouble with it or they make fun of it. If that’s what happens when you become really, really popular, I’ll take it. They can make fun and I’ll laugh along. People making fun of me? Everybody gets it, but usually everybody gets it for about two years. I’ve [been talked about] for about 30 years, so I’m a very happy guy. People can say whatever they want.

TLC: What else is there for Barry Manilow to achieve?
BM: There’s always something in the pipeline for me. I’ve got five more ideas that I’m developing right now. There’s always five more. And I don’t even care whether they’re successful. I just love that I come up with great ideas that thrill me. That thrill me! And I don’t care whether they stick to the wall. If some of them don’t, it doesn’t matter. I’ve just got millions of ideas. I’ll be on my deathbed, and I’ll be yelling, “Wait a minute! I’ve got one more!”