With the immense amount of albums released since the early 20th century, many have slid underneath critics' and fans' radars.
IN COLLABORATION WITH THE 730 REVIEW, THe third edition of UNDERSTATED+UNDERRATED RECONSIDERS Born to Be with You, BY DION, RELEASED IN 1975.
Many iconic and memorable pop musicians reach a point in their careers where they think “I want to be taken seriously now”. Beloved (by a bygone era) doo-wop and blues singer Dion DiMucci, had that realisation in 1975, and thus Born to Be With You was born. Every aspect of the album cover flamboyantly exhibits seriousness, an image of a stern artiste: the crossed arms, the turtleneck, the solemn eyes poking above miniature glasses, the sepia tone. This bold metamorphosis of persona divulged from his youthful, finger-clicking doo-wop days in the 1950’s Bronx. At a moment in his career where his star status had dwindled, Dion intended to step into the realm of art music. None other than ‘the First Tycoon of Teen’, Phil Spector, was employed for the radical transformation.
Spector too was in a rut like Dion. He pumped out jukebox hits in the early 60’s for R&B and soul groups, and from 1970 had produced for ex-Beatles George Harrison and, more extensively, John Lennon. Lennon and Spector had built a working relationship over five years of collaboration (fuelled by a considerable amount of cocaine and alcohol), but as John and Yoko Ono prepared for parenthood, they withdrew from public life to raise their son. Spector was now left in the wilderness, unsure of where to go or what to do now that his personal hit-factory had gone. Dion was to be Phil’s new chosen protégé to be aided by his signature production style, known as the ‘wall of sound’. He used grand, swelling string-based orchestras as his bricks, and moulded the vast array of extravagant instrumentation into one blaring mix through excessive overdubbing, and utilising the acoustics and ambience of the recording studio as an instrument itself, capturing every ripple of sound bouncing off the studio’s walls formulating into distant echos.
He was, and still is, widely considered one of the most important pioneers in popular music production ever. Working with Spector, however, had a catch - Phil was a notorious, gun-wielding, psychopath. Most geniuses in any discipline are understandably obsessives, toiling over every microscopic detail of their work. But Spector embodied this stereotype distinguished by crippling insecurity and paranoia. Leaving the studio with the master tapes to hide them, surrounding himself with round-the-clock bodyguards, and, most incredulously, holding the very musicians he collaborated with at gunpoint, which John Lennon, Leonard Cohen, Debbie Harry of Blondie, Joey Ramone, and his wife Ronnie Spector have testified to. He treated guns as if they were toys, firing rounds into ceilings to get a room’s attention, to make himself laugh, or to get his own way. Except those "toys" are not toys, they're killing machines. In 2003 he shot Hollywood actress Lana Clarkson in his apartment (by his account, accidentally). To this day, he remains in California State Prison serving his 19-year sentence.
As bloated as that context may seem, it illustrates the atmosphere the recording sessions that Born to Be With You produced: bodyguards, cocked pistols, and every word spoken with vigilant precaution. DiMucci has rarely opened up about it since. Despite this ill temperament created from Phil’s presence, both men’s talents are realised at their fullest at a time when both were cold-shouldered in pop music. Dion’s songwriting reaches complete maturity, presenting the record as a retrospective reflection on his old life growing up in the Bronx. Like any percipient reminiscence, there is a striking mixture of visceral nostalgia (‘New York City Song’) and admission of regret (‘Your Own Back Yard’). Confessions of alcoholism and mistakes from unrequited loves are ever-present and reinforced with his forlorn croons that howl over Spector’s maximal orchestral embellishments, the most stirring of which being on ‘Make the Woman Love Me’. His soulful vocal performance treads a narrow tightrope between singing and crying, yet executes the performance perfectly.
Spector’s ‘wall of sound’ comes into its own too, characterised by moments of experimentation where the overdubbing is so rampant, it sounds like it exists in its own space-time. ‘(He’s) Got the Whole World in His Hands’ is so lathered with echo, each instrument hazily blurs into one another, giving a woozy, dishevelled, and psychedelic effect that seems like the result of a late night of sin and intoxication. Inebriating a Christian hymn is somewhat of an iconoclasm, almost like Spector’s ego was boasting that God doesn’t have the whole world in his hands, he does. The ghostly string sections on the title track and ‘In and Out of the Shadows’ elevates every musical element to an astral plane – a statement of grandeur that puts Dion back among the stars.
It baffles me as to why this record was shelved by Spector in 1973. Two years later, the more intimately produced Eagles had already stolen the soft rock limelight, and could be why Born to Be with You was such a commercial flop. Despite its cult following, it still gets widely overlooked and has become a rarity in both artists’ catalogues. It is understandable to see why many leave Phil Spector-associated records alone, as he was an abusive and troubled man who took the life of a talented woman with little remorse in his later life. But I would argue that in some instances artistic brilliance and influence must be acknowledged, regardless of an author’s context. Taking aesthetic pleasure from a difficult person’s work does not equal taking pleasure from their personalities. His production had such a profound and ever-lasting effect on how recorded music was developed, and this record is a potent reminder of his momentous contribution.
Listen to Born to Be With You here:
Spector too was in a rut like Dion. He pumped out jukebox hits in the early 60’s for R&B and soul groups, and from 1970 had produced for ex-Beatles George Harrison and, more extensively, John Lennon. Lennon and Spector had built a working relationship over five years of collaboration (fuelled by a considerable amount of cocaine and alcohol), but as John and Yoko Ono prepared for parenthood, they withdrew from public life to raise their son. Spector was now left in the wilderness, unsure of where to go or what to do now that his personal hit-factory had gone. Dion was to be Phil’s new chosen protégé to be aided by his signature production style, known as the ‘wall of sound’. He used grand, swelling string-based orchestras as his bricks, and moulded the vast array of extravagant instrumentation into one blaring mix through excessive overdubbing, and utilising the acoustics and ambience of the recording studio as an instrument itself, capturing every ripple of sound bouncing off the studio’s walls formulating into distant echos.
He was, and still is, widely considered one of the most important pioneers in popular music production ever. Working with Spector, however, had a catch - Phil was a notorious, gun-wielding, psychopath. Most geniuses in any discipline are understandably obsessives, toiling over every microscopic detail of their work. But Spector embodied this stereotype distinguished by crippling insecurity and paranoia. Leaving the studio with the master tapes to hide them, surrounding himself with round-the-clock bodyguards, and, most incredulously, holding the very musicians he collaborated with at gunpoint, which John Lennon, Leonard Cohen, Debbie Harry of Blondie, Joey Ramone, and his wife Ronnie Spector have testified to. He treated guns as if they were toys, firing rounds into ceilings to get a room’s attention, to make himself laugh, or to get his own way. Except those "toys" are not toys, they're killing machines. In 2003 he shot Hollywood actress Lana Clarkson in his apartment (by his account, accidentally). To this day, he remains in California State Prison serving his 19-year sentence.
As bloated as that context may seem, it illustrates the atmosphere the recording sessions that Born to Be With You produced: bodyguards, cocked pistols, and every word spoken with vigilant precaution. DiMucci has rarely opened up about it since. Despite this ill temperament created from Phil’s presence, both men’s talents are realised at their fullest at a time when both were cold-shouldered in pop music. Dion’s songwriting reaches complete maturity, presenting the record as a retrospective reflection on his old life growing up in the Bronx. Like any percipient reminiscence, there is a striking mixture of visceral nostalgia (‘New York City Song’) and admission of regret (‘Your Own Back Yard’). Confessions of alcoholism and mistakes from unrequited loves are ever-present and reinforced with his forlorn croons that howl over Spector’s maximal orchestral embellishments, the most stirring of which being on ‘Make the Woman Love Me’. His soulful vocal performance treads a narrow tightrope between singing and crying, yet executes the performance perfectly.
Spector’s ‘wall of sound’ comes into its own too, characterised by moments of experimentation where the overdubbing is so rampant, it sounds like it exists in its own space-time. ‘(He’s) Got the Whole World in His Hands’ is so lathered with echo, each instrument hazily blurs into one another, giving a woozy, dishevelled, and psychedelic effect that seems like the result of a late night of sin and intoxication. Inebriating a Christian hymn is somewhat of an iconoclasm, almost like Spector’s ego was boasting that God doesn’t have the whole world in his hands, he does. The ghostly string sections on the title track and ‘In and Out of the Shadows’ elevates every musical element to an astral plane – a statement of grandeur that puts Dion back among the stars.
It baffles me as to why this record was shelved by Spector in 1973. Two years later, the more intimately produced Eagles had already stolen the soft rock limelight, and could be why Born to Be with You was such a commercial flop. Despite its cult following, it still gets widely overlooked and has become a rarity in both artists’ catalogues. It is understandable to see why many leave Phil Spector-associated records alone, as he was an abusive and troubled man who took the life of a talented woman with little remorse in his later life. But I would argue that in some instances artistic brilliance and influence must be acknowledged, regardless of an author’s context. Taking aesthetic pleasure from a difficult person’s work does not equal taking pleasure from their personalities. His production had such a profound and ever-lasting effect on how recorded music was developed, and this record is a potent reminder of his momentous contribution.
Listen to Born to Be With You here: