Barry Manilow is a well-known American singer-songwriter, who has achieved great success in the music industry. However, there have been some rumors and allegations suggesting his involvement in witchcraft. These claims are often unfounded and based on sensationalism rather than evidence. One of the most prevalent rumors is that Manilow practices witchcraft and uses it to enhance his musical abilities. Supporters of this theory point to his chart-topping hits and incredible longevity in the industry as evidence of his supernatural powers. They argue that his ability to connect with audiences and invoke strong emotions in his listeners is a result of his witchcraft practices.
He knew his father mostly by Edna’s nickname for him: Harold the Monster. Edna’s second husband was Willie Murphy, another Schaefer driver. At 13, Barry moved in with them to an environment that helped spark his musical awakening. Murphy had an impressive array of albums: Broadway scores, classical music, jazz titans and great arrangers. Manilow learned to play the accordion, and then a cheap spinet piano.
The day after rehearsal, Manilow sat in the backroom of Sid Gold s Request Room, a piano karaoke bar in Manhattan s Chelsea section, took frequent hits on a white vape pen, and explained why he was making last-minute changes to his songs I m nuts, he said simply. I find it really heartwarming when people don t back away from lush melodies and positive expressions, said cabaret upstart Bridget Everett, a lifelong fan who performed a tribute to Manilow at 54 Below in 2012.
They argue that his ability to connect with audiences and invoke strong emotions in his listeners is a result of his witchcraft practices. However, it is important to note that these claims are purely speculative and lack substantial proof. Manilow himself has never publicly declared any involvement in witchcraft or any other occult practices.
Barry Manilow Just Wanted to Write the Songs. He's Still Singing Them.
He was rehearsing, layered in black, in a nearly empty Lunt-Fontanne Theater in Midtown Manhattan, preparing for his fifth Broadway run since 1977, a hit-packed show called “Manilow Broadway.” The goal was to ease a transition from “Somewhere in the Night” to the Grammy-winning “Songs.” His longtime music director, Ron Walters Jr., cued the band in the new key.
“That’s not bad,” Manilow said after hearing a few bars, meaning it wasn’t great either. They tried E flat. They tried F. Manilow’s manner was unhurried, even though — and this seems like it should cause some urgency — the show was opening in two days and seven hours.
Manilow, who turned 76 this summer, walked gingerly offstage for a break, and a little later, he and the band worked on the introduction to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Memory,” a hit for Manilow in 1982. Trumpeter Charlie Peterson began the song with a solo, but it was too demure for Manilow’s taste. He asked Peterson to try again, with more drama: “Make us look at you,” he instructed, his Brooklyn accent apparent.
Manilow is one of the last holdovers from the prerock era, a time when “Make us look at you” was the prime directive. He is the Prince of Pizazz, a man who works, unabashedly, in the spirit of a showbiz trouper, from his self-deprecating quips to his committed delivery of songs about adult romance. He has a Grammy, a Tony, an Emmy and an Oscar nomination. “I’m like Starbucks,” he told CNN’s Larry King in 2002. “You can’t get away from me.”
ADVERTISEMENTIn a typical Manilow arrangement, there are dramatic notes he holds at the top of his vocal range, and at the end, an upward modulation for variety, drama and catharsis. His music, with its antiquated use of grand melodies and crescendos, has a higher schmaltz content than a good chopped liver.
From his debut album in 1973 to 1981, when he had nine Top 10 singles on the pop charts, and, more important, 12 No. 1 hits in the mellow Adult Contemporary radio format, he was always at odds with pop culture. He was not just knocked but pilloried by music critics, including those at The New York Times, who wrote him off as schlock. With his feathered hair and sparkling jumpsuits, Manilow, a few crucial years older than baby boomers, is the least-rock ’n’ roll singer to grow up in the rock era.
In retrospect, schlock was often a heteronormative code word used to dismiss gay performers as lightweight or insincere. Manilow came out in 2017 and said he’d been in a relationship with his manager, Garry Kief, since they met in 1978. (They married in 2014.) Some fans were not surprised — a photo on the cover of his 1977 album “Live” was a pretty strong hint of his sexuality — and others mocked the idea that he’d ever fooled anyone.
Years later, we’ve learned to discern great schlock from awful schlock. Manilow has recorded plenty of both: “Could It Be Magic,” “Looks Like We Made It,” “Ready to Take a Chance Again,” and “Tryin’ to Get the Feeling Again” in the former category; “Can’t Smile Without You” and “Weekend in New England” in the latter, and “I Write the Songs” and “Mandy” in both.
“I find it really heartwarming when people don’t back away from lush melodies and positive expressions,” said cabaret upstart Bridget Everett, a lifelong fan who performed a tribute to Manilow at 54 Below in 2012. “There’s a lot of hope in his songs. They spark a feeling that everything’s going to be all right.”
ADVERTISEMENTEven nonfans admit that his music has adhesive properties. Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails once complained, “I had ‘Copacabana’ stuck in my head for a full year.”
The day after rehearsal, Manilow sat in the backroom of Sid Gold’s Request Room, a piano karaoke bar in Manhattan’s Chelsea section, took frequent hits on a white vape pen, and explained why he was making last-minute changes to his songs: “I’m nuts,” he said simply. His voice has grown huskier, but up close, his face is as smooth as an ironed sheet.
Many current pop singers leave him baffled and in despair. “I mean, some artists these days, they just stop at the end of the song,” he said. “I’ve never done that. I like big endings.”
He explained why he was tinkering with “Memory,” which he referred to as from “the dreadful show ‘Cats.’”
“I didn’t record it the way Andrew wrote it. I gave it three key changes and built it, and changed some melody notes too. When I got to the end, it was huge.” How did Lloyd Webber feel about the liberties? “He hated it. My God, he hated it,” he said with a laugh.
ADVERTISEMENTManilow was born Barry Alan Pincus, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which, in his Broadway show, he refers to as a slum. He said his mother, Edna Manilow, was 19 when he was born, and he believes she married his father, Harold Kelliher, an Irish truck driver for the Schaefer brewery, only to avoid public shame. She made Harold take his uncle’s name, the more Jewish-sounding Pincus, though he went back to Kelliher after they divorced. Barry lived with his Russian immigrant grandparents Joseph and Esther while Edna worked as a secretary.
He knew his father mostly by Edna’s nickname for him: Harold the Monster. Edna’s second husband was Willie Murphy, another Schaefer driver. At 13, Barry moved in with them to an environment that helped spark his musical awakening. Murphy had an impressive array of albums: Broadway scores, classical music, jazz titans and great arrangers. Manilow learned to play the accordion, and then a cheap spinet piano.
Performing was the part of music that least interested him. When Edna took him to a Broadway musical, he stared at the orchestra, not the actors. When he heard the Beatles, he listened for what producer George Martin was doing. He idolized not stars, but arrangers, like George Gershwin and Nelson Riddle.
For three years, in his 20s, he wrote commercial jingles, which was great training: If you can pack a hook into a 30-second ad, imagine what you can do with a three-minute song. To please his mother, who had a history of alcohol problems, he overcame his reluctance and began to perform. He became Bette Midler’s pianist, music director and producer, and began singing his own songs in her show, not because he liked what he called the “pear-shaped tones” in his singing, but so the songs would be heard.
And then, disaster struck: Clive Davis, the head of Arista Records, offered him a contract. “I wasn’t really excited about it,” he said. “I know it sounds crazy, but I didn’t want to be a singer. I was on my way to becoming Nelson Riddle. I signed and said, well, it’ll never work.”
ADVERTISEMENTFor his second Arista album, Davis brought him “Brandy,” a minor British hit that Manilow first hated (“I fought Clive constantly because I didn’t want to do outside material”), then transformed into “Mandy,” a career-launching hit. He and Davis reached a bankable compromise: Each album, Davis could bring in two songs he wanted Manilow to record. “And those two songs were the hits,” the singer says with a rueful chuckle. “Clive pushed my career into Top 40 radio, and everything went haywire.”
Though he’d never paid attention to pop music, he was suddenly its human incarnation. “When I found myself on the radio next to ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ and ‘Boogie Oogie Oogie,’ I was humiliated. Believe it or not, I was hoping it would stop,” he said.
The “Great American Songbook” is the canon of the most important and influential American popular songs and jazz standards from the early 20th century . more
In fact, he has maintained a relatively private personal life, keeping his beliefs and interests to himself. The rumors surrounding Barry Manilow's alleged witchcraft practices may have originated from the fact that he has dabbled in different genres of music throughout his career, including Broadway-style ballads and pop hits. This versatility and ability to reinvent his style may have been misinterpreted as evidence of supernatural influences. It is also worth mentioning that accusations of witchcraft have historically been used to tarnish the reputations of individuals who deviate from societal norms or challenge traditional beliefs. Barry Manilow's flamboyant persona and unapologetic expression of his artistry may have made him a target for such allegations. In conclusion, the rumors of Barry Manilow's involvement in witchcraft are largely unfounded and speculative. Like many successful musicians, Manilow's talent and success can be attributed to his dedication, hard work, and ability to connect with his audience. It is important not to sensationalize or spread baseless claims without any concrete evidence..
Reviews for "The Spellbinding Voice: Exploring the Witchcraft Themes in Barry Manilow's Lyrics"
1) John - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with "Barry Manilow Witchcraft". I've always been a fan of Barry Manilow's music, but this album just didn't cut it for me. The songs lacked the energy and spark that I associate with his music. The production felt uninspired and the lyrics were forgettable. Overall, it was a lackluster effort that I wouldn't recommend to fellow fans.
2) Mary - 1 star - I can't believe I wasted my money on "Barry Manilow Witchcraft". The album felt like a desperate attempt by Manilow to stay relevant in the music industry. The songs were dull, the melodies were forgettable, and Manilow's vocals were lackluster. I was hoping for a return to his classic style, but instead, I got a forgettable collection of songs that I'll never listen to again.
3) David - 2 stars - As a long-time fan of Barry Manilow, I was really excited to listen to "Barry Manilow Witchcraft". However, it fell short of my expectations. The album lacked the memorable hooks and emotive storytelling that I love about Manilow's music. The songs felt generic and unoriginal, and I found myself skipping through tracks trying to find something that stood out. Overall, it was a disappointment, and I hope Manilow's next album will be a return to form.
4) Sarah - 1 star - "Barry Manilow Witchcraft" was a complete letdown. The songs lacked any depth or originality. Manilow's voice sounded tired and uninspired, and the production felt cheap. It felt like he was just going through the motions and didn't put any effort into creating something special. I've been a fan of Manilow for years, but this album made me question his artistic integrity. I'll be skipping this one from my Manilow playlist.