Appreciation: Ellie Greenwich: mover and shaper of American pop
The songwriter was a natural collaborator and captured moments of uncertainty in her 'little soap operas.'
Ellie Greenwich spent her Long Island adolescence on the corner of
Starlight and Springtime lanes. "My birthday is October 23rd, on the
cusp of Libra and Scorpio," she said in a 1990 interview with writer
and musician Charlotte Greig. "My father was Catholic and my mother was
Jewish. I was destined for something -- half and half, and on the cusp
of everything."
Greenwich emerged as a songwriter when America
itself was on the cusp of everything, a whole set of conventions
unspooling under the power of rock 'n' roll, the civil rights movement
and the incipient counterculture. Her American polyglot upbringing
prepared Greenwich, who died today at age 68 of a heart attack, for
what she became: one of the great sound alchemists who turned the
ambiguities of youth into the essence of American pop.
Able to
sing, arrange and produce as well as pen indelible hits, Greenwich
found her artistic home within New York's Brill Building, where she,
her husband and songwriting partner, Jeff Barry, and their peers
transformed an art form without making a big deal of it. She was a
natural collaborator who could match wits with control freaks like Phil
Spector and totally relate to the kids in the groups who recorded her
songs.
She could write silly and she could write serious. But
Greenwich's key works -- such classics as "Leader of the Pack," "Chapel
of Love" and "River Deep, Mountain High" as well as more obscure ones
like "Out in the Streets" and "Girls Can Tell" -- have a particular
resonance that goes beyond catchiness or nostalgia.
Their
quality has to do with Greenwich's gift for capturing the frisson of a
decision almost made, a change that hasn't quite come, and which could
still go either way. The voices for which she wrote, young and nearly
always female, had a natural waver. They belonged to the kids who would
change everything: multicultural girls such as Barbara Alston and
Dolores "La La" Brooks of the Crystals, Ronnie Spector of the Ronettes
and Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las, girls who aspired to certain
feminine ideals but also wished for a certain freedom promised by the
changing attitudes of their time.
Even a song like the Crystals'
"And Then He Kissed Me," a romance novelette whose impact is as light
as a cotton ball, is pulled forward by an undercurrent of uncertainty.
"I felt so happy I almost cried," sings Brooks (who was 15 when the
song was recorded and, legend has it, had never been kissed), of a love
affair that progresses from the dance floor to the altar in 2 minutes
and 34 seconds. That ambivalence gently counteracts the song's
dreaminess. There's a sense that everything is moving just a little too
fast.
That mood of irresistible acceleration was more pronounced
in the "little soap operas" she created with Barry and producer Shadow
Morton for the Shangri-Las. Who hasn't relished the spin-out at the
climax of "Leader of the Pack"? What's fascinating about that song, and
its lesser-known but equally great companion "Out in the Streets," is
the conflict subtly presented between the feminine and masculine
realms, as damaged heroes struggle to choose between the safe cage of
domesticity or the peril of the open road. Though the boys make bad
choices, the girls feel responsible. It seems right to credit Greenwich
for the message, embedded in the lushly romantic music as well as in
the lyrics, that the balancing act girls faced at that moment was
nearly impossible.
Greenwich herself was walking on a wire
during those years. As part of the triumvirate of married couples so
central to the Brill Building sound (along with Carole King/Gerry
Goffin and Barry Mann/Cynthia Weil), she found an entryway into the
primarily male world of the music business; but she also had to prove
her own authority. Perhaps that's why her songs so often had that blend
of toughness and questioning -- chin forward, eyes prettily downcast.
She and Jeff Barrywrote
"River Deep, Mountain High" for Tina Turner after they'd already
divorced. ("Divorce was not overly accepted," she told Greig of the
split. "It was a major catastrophe.") That song, which Phil Spector
considers a masterpiece, is such a glorious starburst that it would
seem to have no softer or darker side. And yet, there's the beginning,
in which Tina Turner remembers, "the only doll I've ever owned,"
bringing her voice down just a little in remembrance of a poor
childhood's solitary toy. It's another drop of sadness in the midst of
heart-filling joy, an acknowledgment that giving of yourself, whether
as an artist or a lover, always involves pain. Ellie Greenwich was a
purveyor of happiness, but she was no fool. What she wrote always ran
both deep and high.
--Ann Powers
Photo: Greenwich in 1991. Credit: Associated Press



Thanks to Ann Powers. That was a very fitting tribute to a wonderful songwriter.
Posted by: Susan Alexander Llauget | August 26, 2009 at 05:04 PM
Beautiful touching tribute. Ellie Greenwich was a mega-talent. Her passing is very sad news. It's amazing how many of her compositions (with Jeff Barry and others) have remazined timeless. RIP.
Posted by: Country Paul Payton | August 26, 2009 at 07:29 PM
Great tribute! Ellie was one of the true unsung greats. She was 15 when she wrote Then I Kissed Her? Wow. That must be a record. Ann Powers: You did good!
Posted by: Zimmy | August 26, 2009 at 09:12 PM
I hope someone close to Ellie reads this note which comes from someone she barely knew but helped out anyway, personally. I was associated with a duo, Infantino and Ivans, in the early 70s, who Ellie produced, and was present in the studio and at her apartment when they recorded, etc. I was really just a hangers-on, but years later I contacted her to see if she would give pointers on my son's CD (1995). Of course she couldn't possibly have remembered me, but that didn't stop her from providing valuable advice without any personal gain to her. She was just a nice person and I'll never forget her kindness. All of you who know her best have my deep condolences.
Posted by: BILL GUALTIERI | August 27, 2009 at 04:35 AM
Thanks Ellie for your beautiful songs. It will always be a joy for me to listen to "Be my baby", "Da doo ron ron", "Do Wah Diddy Diddy", "Hanky Panky", "I can hear music", "River deep mountain high" ... May you rest in peace, I love you. A Belgian Phil Spector (and also your) fan.
Posted by: Teresa | August 27, 2009 at 05:42 AM
This woman was an important songwriter who changed music with her contributions. She will be missed. God Bless You Ellie Greenwich!!
Posted by: Steven Tabarez | August 27, 2009 at 07:30 AM
Finally, a fitting tribute! I got to know Ellie in New York when she became a customer in my store. Over the years we shared many heart-felt laughs. I delighted knowing she had written "Leader of the pack", that tragic, heart-breaking song that I first heard live when the Shangrilas sang it before a Beach boys concert in 1964. Not only was she a great songwriter, she was a great dame...and the world is a little smaller now.
Posted by: Karin | August 27, 2009 at 09:37 AM
A wonderful tribute; thank you.
Posted by: Mr. Lee | August 27, 2009 at 01:48 PM
I produced and directed 2 productions of "Leader of the Pack: The Ellie Greenwich Musical". Two of these presentations had Darlene Love in attendance as a special guest and performer. Miss Greenwich was an icon, a legend, and brought so many people together to sing and celebrate the legacy of pop. A beautiful woman with a great dream. Now, she's an angel.
Posted by: Elliott Griggers | August 27, 2009 at 02:11 PM
Great writing Ann. Now all of us Goodfellas fans have yet another reason to reexamine Scorcese's musical choices for the date scene with Karen.
Posted by: Ian Renga | August 27, 2009 at 05:12 PM
As far away as in my country, South Afica, Ellie's mega talent was heard and felt. We loved and danced to every one of her amazing songs. "Be my baby" was the song playing at the social event I was at when I kissed my first boyfiend. I was 14, and I'm now 59 , but I've never forgetten the power of that song. For decades, whenever I heard it, memories flooded right back to my heart. I could say that about a lot of Ellie's prolific work. We had the greatest songwriter of our times right here in our midst. How sad to leave us so soon Ellie. But, your music will live on and your rich legacy will forever be a vibrant part of the landscape of our musical culture. Thank you, thank you, rest in peace.
Posted by: JLP | August 27, 2009 at 10:37 PM
leader of the pack is gone.
"Yes, we know."
rrrrrrrrrrahrahhhhhhhhhh
Posted by: thom | August 28, 2009 at 03:57 AM