Like the David Gate’s Concert on the Mount, soft rock history is rife with important missing episodes. Because the tastemakers choose not to record certain events for posterity, these events become lost to time. Holiday and Dolf have uncovered yet another missing piece, this time a little known story about adult contemporary performer and composer Bonnie Tyler, best known for a string of hits spanning 1979’s “It’s a Heartache” to 1984’s Footloose soundtrack. On a side note, Google up the name Rory Dodd and see this guy’s Soft Rock pedigree! Enjoy! – ed.
Holiday begins in Latin:
Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt? (“Where are those who were before us?")
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| Ubi sant... |
Have you heard this one, my friend? I recently ran into retired session singer Rory Dodd. You may know him as the fella who sang that iconic, “Turn around, bright eyes..” line from Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Imagine if you could use that on your resume, or at least as a pick-up line in a bar!!! Anyway, he is a nice chap, a true soft rocker, and totally fine with his minor role in history [if you count Meatloaf and Air Supply backing vocals minor in anyway – ed.] but he told me a tale that I must share with you.
It seems that Tyler and her band, along with the songwriter Jim Steinman, were asked to perform on the short-lived “Thicke of the Night” talk show hosted by hairtastic Canuck Allan Thicke. It having been four long years since their success with “It’s a Heartache,” throaty Tyler and crew readily accepted the invite. During rehearsals prior to the customary taping of the show, Steinman, Tyler and a couple other members of the band, including Dodd, came down with digestive problems, requiring numerous impromptu visits to the lavatory. When pressed by yours truly, the usually decorous Dodd speculated that it had been a protracted visit to a Sizzler salad bar that threatened to “tear the ass out of (him).”
Flash forward a few hours: Likely frustrated by the pace of the rehearsals, the “Thicke” crew, perhaps inexperienced or even arrogant with the show’s early success, got visibly and verbally angry with Bonnie, who—according to several accounts, not just Rory’s here—was not one to take any nonsense from anyone, especially men. Rory says that Bonnie defended him when he had to leave the stage mid-lyric to use the can, going so far as to threaten to “remove” a production assistant’s “vocal chords” if the young man uttered another word to anyone in her band [It is well-documented that such an operation resulted in Bonnie’s signature rasp – ed.] Tensions high, the band and crew finished the rehearsal and were then informed of a change in plans. Mr. Thicke, ever the auteur, decided to go live that evening instead of taping. Ms. Tyler was insulted by Thicke’s treatment. She was star! Four years was not that long to be out of the game! Nevertheless, after taking Thicke’s invite to a free dinner buffet around the corner, wisely preceded by each afflicted member taking a long pull from the numerous bottles of Pepto Bismol strewn about the tour bus, Tyler and band later returned to perform live. But, needless to say, they were not happy.
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| Gentle, fiercely mustached |
But when show time came, it was Tyler and crew who had the last laugh. When the moment in the live broadcast came, Rory and the band took the stage, as Steinman passed a note to Tyler, who nearly, perhaps literally, shat herself (just a little) with laughter. The veteran Tyler quickly composed herself, however, and faced her band. The delicate piano began play, and Rory Dodd crooned his lovely, “Turn around…” Tyler’s voice was at its roughest and most affecting. Rory’s, its most fey. The crowd was being slowly won over by what would soon become an enormous hit record for the Welsh songstress and her writing partner, Steinman. Little did the audience, or Alan Thicke and company, know what was coming next. Brace yourself, friend, for this is not to be believed. When Tyler reached the titular line of the song, cameras caught her wincing ever slow slightly as she delivered not the expected, “Nothing I can do/ a total eclipse of the heart,” but instead the rather shocking, “Nothing I can do/ I totally shit when I fart.”
Imagine it! On live TV! In 1983! Thank goodness for the 7-second delay, but it was clear from the crowds’ reactions that something visceral and important had happened. Tyler is rightly credited by the Urban Dictionary as having minted the term “shart” based on the subsequent interviews she gave about the issue. Thicke vowed to end her career, which we know didn’t happen. It was Thicke who was not to continue long on late night TV (going the way of Chevy Chase and countless other also-rans in the late night game). Don’t mess with a Welsh lassie with a voice and a spirit like that! The songwriter Steinman was so moved by their conspiracy that he later went on to record a never-released solo album called Caramel Tunnel Syndrome that dramatized events in mock rock-opera form (his label thought it a thin, loose mess).
Too often the public thinks of Soft Rockers like Tyler, Dodd, and Steinman as, well, soft. Tyler showed another side of our beloved art form. In a subsequent composition, one from 1984’s Footloose soundtrack, Steinman (along with the gifted performer Tyler) joins the ages in a meditation on mortality and life's transience, earnestly beseeching: “Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?/ Where's the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?" Well, perhaps we’ve been looking in the wrong places. She was here all the time, our hero sticking it to the “man.” Leave it to a woman to show how tough we can be!
Adolfo replies:
Kevin:
Believe it or not, this tale came up during an evening’s entertainment some years ago. I thought it false then, and would still find it hard to believe did I not trust your judgment. Not to mention the judgment of Sir Rory! A young protégé was teaching me the joys of a game the youngsters perhaps still play called “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.” On a side note, was he, Mr. Bacon, included in our list of Soft Rock icons??? Did he make anyone’s list at the summit?? At the very least, did the savory cured meat from which his surname is derived? Tell me we didn’t totally neglect Bacon. I feel he certainly should be included. I mean, good hair, hot wife, nice dance moves, a voice like a rustic pilgrim for love. Well, as is often the case, I digress…
Deep into the aforementioned game of Six Degrees, we eventually arrived at the pinnacle of Bacon’s film career, none other than Footloose, specifically his iconic “angry dance.” We both, my young friend and I, agreed that there is no better way to shed one’s anger than to dance!!! But I then reminded this young buck of a certain John Deere-flavored game of “chicken,” accompanied by Bonnie Tyler’s “I Need a Hero” [Also penned by Steinman. -ed.]. Re-familiarize yourself with this scene, Kevin. It speaks cinematic and cultural volumes.
How fitting that a soft rock icon be unwittingly thrust into the spotlight by a tangled shoelace (or a dirty note via Jim Steinman, as was the case with Ms. Tyler)! The Bacon character, Ren, wishes to jump from his tractor. I mean, we see him struggle to do so. But fate has different plans for him. In this way he is Christ-like, no? "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." Just as this role of hero has been thrust upon young Ren McCormack, and in turn Jim Steinman and Bonnie Tyler and Rory Dodd, so too has the role of Soft Rock champions been placed upon us. Ours is not to question why, friend. Ours is not to question why. Thank you for this tale of past heroism, of non-violent protest! We have much work to do but many places from which to draw strength and inspiration, a historic shart heard 'round the world being one I will not soon forget!
