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| There was some amount of not the best idea... |
Another one I didn’t know till it popped up in the queue. Maybe if I’d been born in Syracuse…
The Hit
“She’s just 16-years-old/
leave her alone/
they say…”
Those are, 1) the opening lyrics to Benny Mardones, “Into the Night” and, 2) not great, obviously, and it didn’t help that Mardones was 33 years old when the single dropped. And, as you keep digging…yeah. From Wikipedia’sentry on the single:
“The video opens with Mardones walking down a street and approaching a house. The song plays over the video, and the lyrics serve as Mardones's monologue. He is met at the door by a bearded man who tells him, "She's just 16 years old. Leave her alone." Mardones leaves and walks around to the back of the house, peering through a window at a girl sitting sullenly in her room. The video then cuts to Mardones at a pay phone, speaking to the girl on the other end of the line and professing his love. The video then cuts again to Mardones returning to the girl's house, carrying a rolled-up carpet. He crawls through her bedroom window, unrolls the magic carpet, and taking the girl's hand, they take flight into the night sky. The video closes with Mardones serenading the girl as they embrace; the scene finally fades to black as they kiss.”
All…that notwithstanding, the song has a touching backstory. Mardones fleshes out the full story in an audio clip posted to Songfacts in 2011, but, long story short, the father of a family that lived in his building Spanish Harlem left his wife and three kids for a member of a chorus line. Equal parts touched and angry by the desertion, Mardones gave each of the three kids odd jobs (and overpaid them), and he tasked the youngest girl (age 16) with walking his basset hound, Zanky(sp?) every morning. When a long night of working on some songs turned to morning, the young girl knocked on the door for Zanky’s daily constitutional. After she closed the door behind her, Mardones’ then-writing partner, Bobby Tepper, started with something like “my God (as Billboard’s obit put it, he “got leery”) and Mardones cut him off with, “she’s 16, leave her alone.” He comes off like a decent guy, and I believe it, but that video…
Getting back to the song, it’s a soft-rock ballad with some nice piano twinkles, but it’s mostly washed-out synths and a simple, sparing arrangement of traditional rock-band instruments that lay out like a stage for Mardones’ vocals - who, when he really gets going, doesn’t sound so different from Journey’s Steve Perry (eh...on further listening, I was in a mood). He picked up “The Voice” as a nickname for a reason…
The Rest of the Story
“No one thought that ‘The Voice’ would ever be silenced. He’s one of us. He’s a huge part of Syracuse. This is such a loss.”
- Frank Malfitano, resident of Syracuse, New York, and organizer of the local jazz festival
For me, the best part of Benny Mardones’ story came at the end of his personal redemption arc and the way the city of Syracuse adopted him as their own after he moved there in the mid-1980s. As implied above, Mardones is no longer with us, but the obituary/feature in Syracuse.com (source for the above quote) includes some great tales about him “holding court” at the Gem Diner in between tucking into his favorite dish, a “pepperoni and cheese omelette, hash browns, extra Italian toast and plenty of bacon.” And, good God, how did he make it 73? Now, to wind back to the beginning…
Shortly after Mardones came into the world in 1946 as Benjamin Ruben Armand Mardones in Cleveland, Ohio, his own father, Ruben Sr., left his own family to return to his native Chile, a compelling origin story for his ready sympathy for those neighbors in Spanish Harlem. His mother relocated to Savage, Maryland, which sits at the tip of a triangle opposite Baltimore and Annapolis; the proximity to the latter could explain his first career, i.e., serving in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War. When he cycled back to civilian life, Mardones played a little in the Baltimore area before moving to New York City to take a real shot at his second career. With memories of watching Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan spurring him on, he was going to be a rock ‘n’ roll star.
On his arrival in New York, he met Joel Diamond, then-president of CBS Publishing, who encouraged his songwriting and brought him on board. CBS teamed Mardones with a guy named Alan Miles and, together, they started churning out songs. Brenda Lee’s “Too Heavy to Carry” came first and established the Miles/Mardones team at CBS. The two demoed some of their own songs on the side and pitched them to other people - one of them being Tommy Mottola, aka, Mariah Carey’s future producer/husband. Mottola and Diamond liked what they heard enough to help Mardones land with a label called White Whale (who put out The Turtles); they even squeaked out a single, “Stand and Be Counted,” which they released under the name “Troy,” because the suits didn’t think Benny Mardones would fly.
A couple years of wandering followed - e.g., Mardones first moved to LA (where he played with the unfortunately-named The Band with No Name), then bounced to Woodstock, New York (which boasted a thriving scene in the early-to-mid-1970s). His breaks followed from there - e.g., meeting/impressing Richie Havens enough that Havens took him on tour, then opening for Dave Mason and Peter Frampton at Madison Square Garden(!) after Blue Oyster Cult bowed out at the last minute. Andrew Loog Oldham, famous for producing of the first decade’s (or so) worth of albums by The Rolling Stones, caught that, then made introductions to Larry Utall (President of Private Stock Records), who gave Mardones his first official record deal.
Private Stock went some distance to making his debut, 1979’s Thank God for Girls, successful - e.g., they called in David Bowie’s one-time guitarist, Mick Ronson - but not many people noticed. Shortly thereafter, another friend - Bill McGathy this time, then-President of Polydor Records, invited Mardones over to his label, tied him to a new songwriting partner (Tepper) and set them loose. It paid off in (per his official bio; the best source for Mardones’ career, fwiw) they “put together a collection of songs that far surpassed his earlier work.” The final product was 1980’s Never Run, Never Hide, which Polydor sold with “Into the Night.” The single blew up, of course, peaking at No. 11 on Billboard and lighting up request lines all over the country; it went platinum in no time…
The Hit
“She’s just 16-years-old/
leave her alone/
they say…”
Those are, 1) the opening lyrics to Benny Mardones, “Into the Night” and, 2) not great, obviously, and it didn’t help that Mardones was 33 years old when the single dropped. And, as you keep digging…yeah. From Wikipedia’sentry on the single:
“The video opens with Mardones walking down a street and approaching a house. The song plays over the video, and the lyrics serve as Mardones's monologue. He is met at the door by a bearded man who tells him, "She's just 16 years old. Leave her alone." Mardones leaves and walks around to the back of the house, peering through a window at a girl sitting sullenly in her room. The video then cuts to Mardones at a pay phone, speaking to the girl on the other end of the line and professing his love. The video then cuts again to Mardones returning to the girl's house, carrying a rolled-up carpet. He crawls through her bedroom window, unrolls the magic carpet, and taking the girl's hand, they take flight into the night sky. The video closes with Mardones serenading the girl as they embrace; the scene finally fades to black as they kiss.”
All…that notwithstanding, the song has a touching backstory. Mardones fleshes out the full story in an audio clip posted to Songfacts in 2011, but, long story short, the father of a family that lived in his building Spanish Harlem left his wife and three kids for a member of a chorus line. Equal parts touched and angry by the desertion, Mardones gave each of the three kids odd jobs (and overpaid them), and he tasked the youngest girl (age 16) with walking his basset hound, Zanky(sp?) every morning. When a long night of working on some songs turned to morning, the young girl knocked on the door for Zanky’s daily constitutional. After she closed the door behind her, Mardones’ then-writing partner, Bobby Tepper, started with something like “my God (as Billboard’s obit put it, he “got leery”) and Mardones cut him off with, “she’s 16, leave her alone.” He comes off like a decent guy, and I believe it, but that video…
Getting back to the song, it’s a soft-rock ballad with some nice piano twinkles, but it’s mostly washed-out synths and a simple, sparing arrangement of traditional rock-band instruments that lay out like a stage for Mardones’ vocals - who, when he really gets going, doesn’t sound so different from Journey’s Steve Perry (eh...on further listening, I was in a mood). He picked up “The Voice” as a nickname for a reason…
The Rest of the Story
“No one thought that ‘The Voice’ would ever be silenced. He’s one of us. He’s a huge part of Syracuse. This is such a loss.”
- Frank Malfitano, resident of Syracuse, New York, and organizer of the local jazz festival
For me, the best part of Benny Mardones’ story came at the end of his personal redemption arc and the way the city of Syracuse adopted him as their own after he moved there in the mid-1980s. As implied above, Mardones is no longer with us, but the obituary/feature in Syracuse.com (source for the above quote) includes some great tales about him “holding court” at the Gem Diner in between tucking into his favorite dish, a “pepperoni and cheese omelette, hash browns, extra Italian toast and plenty of bacon.” And, good God, how did he make it 73? Now, to wind back to the beginning…
Shortly after Mardones came into the world in 1946 as Benjamin Ruben Armand Mardones in Cleveland, Ohio, his own father, Ruben Sr., left his own family to return to his native Chile, a compelling origin story for his ready sympathy for those neighbors in Spanish Harlem. His mother relocated to Savage, Maryland, which sits at the tip of a triangle opposite Baltimore and Annapolis; the proximity to the latter could explain his first career, i.e., serving in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War. When he cycled back to civilian life, Mardones played a little in the Baltimore area before moving to New York City to take a real shot at his second career. With memories of watching Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan spurring him on, he was going to be a rock ‘n’ roll star.
On his arrival in New York, he met Joel Diamond, then-president of CBS Publishing, who encouraged his songwriting and brought him on board. CBS teamed Mardones with a guy named Alan Miles and, together, they started churning out songs. Brenda Lee’s “Too Heavy to Carry” came first and established the Miles/Mardones team at CBS. The two demoed some of their own songs on the side and pitched them to other people - one of them being Tommy Mottola, aka, Mariah Carey’s future producer/husband. Mottola and Diamond liked what they heard enough to help Mardones land with a label called White Whale (who put out The Turtles); they even squeaked out a single, “Stand and Be Counted,” which they released under the name “Troy,” because the suits didn’t think Benny Mardones would fly.
A couple years of wandering followed - e.g., Mardones first moved to LA (where he played with the unfortunately-named The Band with No Name), then bounced to Woodstock, New York (which boasted a thriving scene in the early-to-mid-1970s). His breaks followed from there - e.g., meeting/impressing Richie Havens enough that Havens took him on tour, then opening for Dave Mason and Peter Frampton at Madison Square Garden(!) after Blue Oyster Cult bowed out at the last minute. Andrew Loog Oldham, famous for producing of the first decade’s (or so) worth of albums by The Rolling Stones, caught that, then made introductions to Larry Utall (President of Private Stock Records), who gave Mardones his first official record deal.
Private Stock went some distance to making his debut, 1979’s Thank God for Girls, successful - e.g., they called in David Bowie’s one-time guitarist, Mick Ronson - but not many people noticed. Shortly thereafter, another friend - Bill McGathy this time, then-President of Polydor Records, invited Mardones over to his label, tied him to a new songwriting partner (Tepper) and set them loose. It paid off in (per his official bio; the best source for Mardones’ career, fwiw) they “put together a collection of songs that far surpassed his earlier work.” The final product was 1980’s Never Run, Never Hide, which Polydor sold with “Into the Night.” The single blew up, of course, peaking at No. 11 on Billboard and lighting up request lines all over the country; it went platinum in no time…
 |
| Fuck it. He made people happy. |
Sadly, Mardones “blew up” around the same time. Addicted to a combination of cocaine and booze, he missed rehearsals, recording sessions and even live shows before putting all of it on hold indefinitely. As his bio put it, “it seemed Benny Mardones had fallen off the face of the earth.” Which, apparently, is a euphemism for moving to Syracuse.
Mardones hadn’t recovered by that point, but a local DJ named Tommy Nast continued to spin his singles and helped him build up a local following. Within a couple years, he could play some shows in Syracuse, big ones too - e.g., “a legendary concert at Longbranch Park with more than 10,000 people in attendance”; also, “at his peak in Syracuse, Benny would draw 24,000 fans to a show at Weedsport Speedway.” It took the birth of his son, Michael Everett, in 1985, to sober up and his bounce-back started there, even if Mardones didn’t bounce nearly as high. Mardones released a couple albums on a local label - 1985’s Unauthorized and 1986’s American Dreams - and then his career/single got a second life in 1989, when a recurring “Where Are They Now?” segment on an Arizona radio station (KZZP) got “Into the Night” back into rotation. “Into the Night” did well enough on its second run to reach No. 20 on Billboard, making it one of just 20 singles to chart in the Top 20 twice.
Mardones performed into the 2010s; not even a Parkinson’s diagnosis in 2000 slowed him down. Based on what I’ve read, he did most of his playing at the upstate New York area, with a venue called Turning Stone Resort and Casino looking like a favorite (Spotify has three recordings of live shows…which I ignored). The recognition never totally dried up - e.g., when Showtime made a tribute for Roy Orbison in 2011, they called Mardones, giving him a chance to share a stage with KD Lang, John Fogerty, Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan - but that counts as his final, clear career highlight. Mardones gave his final performance at Turning Stone in 2017 and, a couple years later, had the misfortune of falling into debilitation during the first summer of COVID. When it was clear his end was near, they released him to the care of his third wife, Jane Braemer, and he died at his home in Menifee, California.
About the Sampler
Because early 80s rock ranks pretty damn low in my personal hierarchy of genres/eras, I kept the sampler short and simple. Four songs - “All for a Reason,” “Your Own Man,” “Thank God for Girls,” and a melodic little number called “I Started a Joke” - rep Mardones’ debut, while his one big hit, “She’s So French,” “Mighta Been Love” and a(n odd) nostalgia number called “American Bandstand” rep his big album. (Also, here's Mardones talking about "American Bandstand" on American Bandstand; it's a little patriot...)
I added some strays from Benny Mardones’ 1989 eponymous comeback album/attempt, one (“For a Little Ride”) for the hell of it, then “How Could You Love Me” because that was one of Malfitano’s favorites. “Way of the World” and “If I Could Have My Way” came on for the same reason, and I’ve got no idea how “We’ve Got to Run” got on there, but there it is.
That’s it for this one. The one is….hmm, another unknown. Till then…and it’ll go up Monday. Sorry to keep moving things around, but getting this stuff in around regular life takes some doing.
Mardones hadn’t recovered by that point, but a local DJ named Tommy Nast continued to spin his singles and helped him build up a local following. Within a couple years, he could play some shows in Syracuse, big ones too - e.g., “a legendary concert at Longbranch Park with more than 10,000 people in attendance”; also, “at his peak in Syracuse, Benny would draw 24,000 fans to a show at Weedsport Speedway.” It took the birth of his son, Michael Everett, in 1985, to sober up and his bounce-back started there, even if Mardones didn’t bounce nearly as high. Mardones released a couple albums on a local label - 1985’s Unauthorized and 1986’s American Dreams - and then his career/single got a second life in 1989, when a recurring “Where Are They Now?” segment on an Arizona radio station (KZZP) got “Into the Night” back into rotation. “Into the Night” did well enough on its second run to reach No. 20 on Billboard, making it one of just 20 singles to chart in the Top 20 twice.
Mardones performed into the 2010s; not even a Parkinson’s diagnosis in 2000 slowed him down. Based on what I’ve read, he did most of his playing at the upstate New York area, with a venue called Turning Stone Resort and Casino looking like a favorite (Spotify has three recordings of live shows…which I ignored). The recognition never totally dried up - e.g., when Showtime made a tribute for Roy Orbison in 2011, they called Mardones, giving him a chance to share a stage with KD Lang, John Fogerty, Johnny Cash and Bob Dylan - but that counts as his final, clear career highlight. Mardones gave his final performance at Turning Stone in 2017 and, a couple years later, had the misfortune of falling into debilitation during the first summer of COVID. When it was clear his end was near, they released him to the care of his third wife, Jane Braemer, and he died at his home in Menifee, California.
About the Sampler
Because early 80s rock ranks pretty damn low in my personal hierarchy of genres/eras, I kept the sampler short and simple. Four songs - “All for a Reason,” “Your Own Man,” “Thank God for Girls,” and a melodic little number called “I Started a Joke” - rep Mardones’ debut, while his one big hit, “She’s So French,” “Mighta Been Love” and a(n odd) nostalgia number called “American Bandstand” rep his big album. (Also, here's Mardones talking about "American Bandstand" on American Bandstand; it's a little patriot...)
I added some strays from Benny Mardones’ 1989 eponymous comeback album/attempt, one (“For a Little Ride”) for the hell of it, then “How Could You Love Me” because that was one of Malfitano’s favorites. “Way of the World” and “If I Could Have My Way” came on for the same reason, and I’ve got no idea how “We’ve Got to Run” got on there, but there it is.
That’s it for this one. The one is….hmm, another unknown. Till then…and it’ll go up Monday. Sorry to keep moving things around, but getting this stuff in around regular life takes some doing.
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