Sometimes a Song is about a composer, and sometimes it is about a singer. Bobby Darin was both. But singers of his generation were following the trend toward folk and rock music, and where Bobby fit in was not immediately clear. Born in 1936 and raised by his grandparents (who he’d been told were his parents), Darin obviously grew up influenced by the great popular music which was thriving in the 1940’s. But by the 1950’s a new kind of music called “rock & roll” was about to take over, at least for the younger set, and so, not surprisingly, Bobby picked up a guitar and turned his musical talents in that direction. By the mid-50’s, he was singing for the coffeehouse crowds in New York City, his home town. There he rubbed elbows with a lot of talented people, among whom was a young man exactly of his age, Nick Venet, who eventually “grew up” to become a well-known record producer, working with many single artists (among them, Bobby Darin) and with many bands, as well. Venet is remembered for having discovered The Beach Boys and signed them to Capitol Records in the early 1960’s, but he acted as producer for an impressive list of singers and bands far too long to list here, across the musical genres.
Bobby Darin met Nick Venet when the young men were nineteen years old and known by almost no one. They became friends because they ran into each other so often at the famous Brill Building on Broadway, where countless music publishers had taken up offices in the 1940’s, and where you were liable to meet any number of established and important people in the music business. At age 19, neither could afford to rent an office in the Brill Building, but because they spent so much time there, they did manage to commandeer a vacant broom closet for a home base. Soon the two had moved a piano into their “office,” and Darin was was writing some rock n roll songs, while Venet hustled up production work where he could find it. In 1958 Venet produced Bobby Darin’s first song, “Splish, Splash,” a novelty number which immediately became an international hit on the charts. Although he had written both lyrics and tune, Darin shared the credit for this song with the popular New York disc jockey and rock music promoter, Murray the K, and Murray’s mother, who had come up with a single line for a song lyric: “Splish splash, I was taking a bath.” Murray challenged Darin to make a song using that opening, and in short order Bobby went to his “office” in the Brill Building and did just that. The song shot to Number 3 on the Billboard Charts in both the US and Canada and reached Best Seller status in both the Rhythm & Blues and the Country & Western charts, as well. Did I mention that the song was a hit, and not only that but a hit across genres? Well, well! All of a sudden the poor boy from the Bronx was on his way. But just where he wanted to go with his music probably would have surprised a lot of people.
In times when celebrity is often more important to success than actual achievement, I suppose I have to say that when Bobby Darin began in the business, you generally still had to work at your craft to succeed. Darin knew all too well from what he saw around him how easy it was to become a has-been, a flash in the pan. And he didn’t want to be a one-hit singer. So there he was, suddenly famous for a rock n roll song (and yes, “Splish Splash” sounds unlike rock music by later standards) — with the soul, and as it happens, the voice, of a crooner. What do you do? Bobby Darin decided to stay with the older musical style in the hope of bringing the great standards to a young audience. And doing that meant hard work for him, not only in the recording studio, where you could do as many takes as you needed to get a song just right, but in the make-it-or-break-it night clubs on the Las Vegas strip. That was his proving ground, and that is where he did in fact earn his fame. And he earned it fast, showing that he could pack a room right alongside of the big guys and hold his own with the best of them.
So Bobby Darin, who evidently had as much ambition as he had talent, nevertheless worked at his craft, and far surpassed the novelty song that gave him his first push toward stardom. But he had something else driving him that most young men do not have: he knew he was beating the odds by being alive at all in his 20’s, and he knew that he would die young of what was then an incurable heart disease, the resulted of frequent bouts of rheumatic fever in his childhood. Doctors had predicted that he would not live past age 30. He knew about his health problem, he suffered with it, and he talked openly about it. But instead of letting it discourage him, he determined (as he said often to those he worked with) to “double down” and work ever harder at his career, knowing that his time would be short. His follow-up release to “Splish Splash” was “Mack the Knife,” as song which hit number one for him and, after he recorded it, became an American standard. It’s a tour de force of a performance (the song I planned on using to introduce Darin’s work here at Word & Song). If “Splish Splash” put Bobby Darin on the charts, “Mack the Knife” put him on the radar screen of established crooners, agents, and promoters, none of whom could ignore him. His brief career included not only recording and performing in top venues, but film and television work.
In 1959, Bobby released what is considered the best version ever of today’s song, “Beyond the Sea,” which hit Number 6 on the Billboard Charts. This hit was for another one for the grownups; it was an old song, and it made clear what sort of music Bobby planned to do. “La Mer” was an French song, written and recorded by composer, Charles Trenet, in 1946. Darin recorded the song with English lyrics by Jack Lawrence, a well-respected songwriter who worked for such artists as Frank Sinatra (“All or Nothing at All,” Frank’s first hit single), Bing Crosby (with the Andrews Sisters), and Rosemary Clooney (for whom Lawrence’s “Tenderly” became a theme song). What a start for the fellow whom many regard as “the last of the crooners,” his star rising as those of the older singers were setting. And where did Bobby Darin learn his trade, after all? From the crooners, over the air waves when he was a child. Where else?
I wonder if there’s a plaque on the door of that little old broom closet in the Brill Building. If there isn’t, there should be one!
And here is the original French song, by Charles Trenet.
No contest, Bobby Darin swings it!
Too little, too late, I learned to appreciate Bobby Darin. I happen to have come across stack of 1950s and 60s Hollywood magazines which were quite popular at the time and he was prominent in so many of them.
I think you for this article on Darin, especially for enlightening me about his health condition. I had known what he died of far, far too young, but I did not know that he had this death sentence hanging over him, and that he was aware of it.
I recall thinking, “…and just as he was reinventing himself, too.”
His song, “If I Were a Carpenter,” showed him in a whole new light.
I do hope that he rests in peace.