Friday, December 19, 2025
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Barbra Streisand Scores Top 5 Album

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Barbra Streisand still has it. She’s got a top 5 album this week with  “What Matters Most.”The CD–  A strong collection of ballads written by lyricists Alan and Marilyn Bergman with a variety of composers–sold a little over 70,000 copies in its debut week. Not bad.. Among the songs Streisand covers is the couple’s tour de force, “Windmills of Your Mind,” and another classic winner, “That Face.”

All the tracks are produced with wit and class by Streisand herself. There’s no downside here, but it would be nice to hear Streisand attempt some more upbeat material, maybe with edgier arrangements. On “Windmills” she’s offered herself up accappella. It’s a terrific track. She should immediately allow a bunch of modern remixers take a crack at it–she could have a club hit.

Streisand doesn’t seem to realize that there’s a club record hit out there right now — she could capitalize on that easily. But “What Matters Most” is that her fans obviously love this collection.

Look for Streisand to hit the tour circuit sometime soon. That’s where her real income is made. Her fans have no problem paying upwards of $350 a ticket to see her.

Here’s the club hit, “Barbra Streisand,” by Duck Sauce: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu_zwdmz0hE

Nick Ashford: Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing Baby

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Nile Rodgers, Paul Shaffer, Michael Douglas, Cissy Houston, Felicia Collins, Russ Titelman, Sylvia Rhone, Nona Hendryx, and Sue Simmons were among the luminaries who attended the Monday night memorial service for Nick Ashford at Harlem’s Abyssinian Baptist Church. JIM BESSMAN was kind enough to write us an account of what went on because I could not be there. No sign of Diana Ross, Chaka Khan or Whitney Houston, but plenty of towering talent from Roberta Flack to Edgar Bronfman, Jr. participated. Nick’s death is a huge blow to his family, friends and the world. –RF

To those who spoke on his behalf at his memorial service yesterday, Nickolas Ashford was a giant, a saint, a talent whose contributions, as Vogue’s Andre Leon Talley dramatically stated, matched those of the likes of James Brown, Nina Simone, James Baldwin, Dr. Maya Angelou, Ralph Ellison and Duke Ellington, and, after a pause, Bach, Beethoven and Mozart.

To his family, of course, Ashford was also a loving husband, father and brother. But to his many friends at Harlem’s Abyssinian Baptist Church–and the general public who filled the building to capacity and those who couldn’t get in–he was a true man of the people. More than one speaker noted how he offered his radiant smile–the one that flashed out of the stunning portraits on the altar and in the vestibule–to anyone who approached him, accompanied, more often than not, by the warmest bear hug.

There was plenty of music, as would be expected. Roberta Flack sang “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” prefaced by a verse from Sting’s “Fields Of Gold” and backed by bassists Jerry Barnes and Tinker Barfield, guitarist Sharrod Barnes and keyboardist Bryan Whitted. Victor Cook and Tichina Arnold rocked the gospel “I’m Too Close,” and Ryan Shaw did same on “I Am Your Man” (the Ashford & Simpson classic for which he earned a 2008 Grammy nomination for Best Traditional R&B Vocal Performance). Rev. D.J. Rogers got the crowd going with his hit “Say You Love Me” following his eulogy ovation.

Dr. Angelou’s “When Great Trees Fall” was splendidly recited by actresses Phylicia Rashad, S. Epatha Merkerson and Tamara Tunie. But the spoken-word reflections were likewise unforgettable. Talley reverently recounted Ashford’s crucial example as an African-American male role model for the then southern youngster from North Carolina growing up in the 1960s. Shaw called Ashford and Simpson his “professional parents,” and former Ashford & Simpson musical director Ray Chew similarly saluted them for taking him in as a “young pup” at 18 and showing him the music business ropes.

Tony-winning choreographer George Faison spoke lovingly of his long friendship with Ashford and noted how his songs and words were so right-on that Faison actually thought he’d written them himself. In closing, he stirred the congregation with Ashford’s lyrics to Diana Ross’s hit “Remember Me”: “Remember me as a good thing! Remember me as a good thing!”

This deceptive simplicity in Ashford’s songwriting was singled out, too, by Warner Music Group chairman Edgar Bronfman, Jr., who has written songs with Ashford & Simpson. Here he movingly related how he asked the couple to sing at a small memorial gathering after a pregnancy loss, but without telling him, they instead wrote and performed a special song. It ended with an expression of gladness that the unnamed child had in fact arrived in the parents’ hearts, prompting an emotional Bronfman to repeat the lyric in honor of his departed friend.

But Bronfman also got a big laugh at the outset when he designated himself the “token Caucasian” on the list of speakers, quickly adding that Ashford & Simpson saw no color in people–while gently pointing out that unlike preceding speakers, he was given no musical underscore. Here, to the audience’s stunned amazement, Valerie Simpson arose, and with great deliberation, strolled to the piano, then accompanied Bronfman.

But Simpson, naturally, was always the focus of attention. Her extraordinary grace in the face of such an excruciating loss for all was lauded time and again, and when it came her turn to speak, she lovingly thanked her true “soul mate” for making her grow as a person just by watching him. And she said that she had seen her daughters Nicole and Asia grow throughout the trying duration of Ashford’s illness. And she knew that she had something rare and beautiful in their 36-year marriage, and the many years of songwriting collaboration that preceded it.

Simpson also delighted family, friends and fans with stories about her husband, including one where the impeccably stylish superstar declared that if he should walk to the corner without anyone stopping him, “I’m wearing the wrong clothes!” She thanked Ashford & Simpson’s remarkable assistant Tee Alston–known to all as Miss Tee–and longtime friend Liz Rosenberg, for their tireless help in putting the service together.

The church’s pastor, Reverend Dr. Calvin O. Butts III, noted that the event completed a circle of sorts for the couple, who had famously met in 1964 at Harlem’s White Rock Baptist Church. He marveled at the turnout, which brought together people from all walks of life, including movie stars. Calling out actor Michael Douglas by name, he said that as a Baptist preacher, he just might have to ask for an offering–thereby generating gales of laughter.

But that’s the way of the entire evening–equal parts laughter and tears, all in the name of a most gentle, generous and gifted man for whom “he will be missed” doesn’t convey even the tip of the iceberg.

It all  ended fittingly with Freddie Jackson and Alyson Williams singing “Aint’ No Mountain High Enough” and “Reach Out And Touch” along with The Sugar Bar singers–the many vocalists who sing backup at Ashford & Simpson’s restaurant/nightclub Sugar Bar’s fabled Thursday Night Open Mic shows–led by Open Mic host Andre Smith. Veteran Ashford & Simpson followers no doubt recognized Joshie Jo Armstead singing a lead verse, Armstead being the third co-writer of Ashford & Simpson’s breakthrough composition “Let’s Go Get Stoned.”

Clearly, the circle remained unbroken.

 

Michael Jackson Would Have Been 53 Today

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Michael Jackson would have turned 53 today. Let’s concentrate on the good things–there’s enough bad stuff to keep everyone arguing for a long time. I have no doubt that fighting among fans who “know” it all will turn particularly vicious later this fall when books by Michael’s friend, Frank Cascio, and a muckracker named Randall Sullivan, are published. Also, Jermaine Jackson’s book is on its way.

And then there’s the much dreaded MJ tribute concert planned for Cardiff, Wales–a disaster in the making. Somewhere out there David Gest, who knows how to make a buck off all things Jackson, has his “documentary” that will also tell the “real story.” Let’s not forget that Michael’s father, Joe Jackson, continues to invent new money making schemes that just go pfft once they’re revealed.

We won’t even get into Drs. Murray and Klein.

What do Michael Jackson fans want to celebrate on this occasion? His extraordinary contribution to pop music culture and the canon of songs. From “Off the Wall” through the “Michael” album, as well as the Jackson 5 and Michael’s early solo stuff like “Got to Be There,” the legacy is enormous. There isn’t a club in the world that isn’t playing “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough” every single hour of every day.

No matter who wrote, produced or directed a particular song, they are all Michael Jackson. His gorgeous voice is unmistakable, as his sense of rythym and pacing. No matter what you think of the “This Is It” movie,  you can see what made Michael tick. Especially in the dancing, it’s all genius. And of course, in the end, that’s the tragedy.

So happy birthday Michael. Listening to the tracks from “Michael,” and hoping that London would have been a success, it does seem like so much more was possible.

Julia Roberts’ “Fireflies”: No Oscar Gold Coming

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I don’t know why Senator Entertainment has finally exhumed “Fireflies in the Garden,” produced by Julia Roberts. They just announced that after three years, Americans can be exposed to this undercooked and rather dull “family drama.” Robert produced it for husband Danny Moder, who did the cinematography. But otherwise, she’s really not a major player in this minor offering.

“Fireflies” has already been released internationally, making a little over $3 million. It was very popular in places where English is a second language, like Germany and Italy. In the United Kingdom, where the audience could understand what was happening, no one went. I guess the idea now is that Ryan Reynolds, who stars in the film, has built up a following.

I thought by now “Fireflies” would be on DVD. I can’t believe it hasn’t been shown on airplanes and elsewhere. Roberts has not turned out to be a great producer. Earlier this year, her “Jesus Henry Christ” was released to general apathy. As for Senator, I thought they’d gone out of business.

MTV Awards: Insufferable, Except for Adele

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The MTV Video Music Awards are so hard to watch, especially with the aftermath of a hurricane and a winning Yankee game occurring simultaneously. I don’t want to see Kim Kardashian or her like again. Aside from sampling Otis Redding, what the hell are Kanye West and Jay Z rapping about?

Britney Spears beats Adele for an award. What? Justin Bieber, who now looks so much like Ellen DeGeneres it isn’t funny, thanks Jesus because–there would have to be a Jesus to make Bieber possible. He’s a miracle of self invention. It’s just a cavalcade of crap, meaningless awfulness with the exception of Lady Gaga trying something new and Neyo — so talented–giving in to someone’s marketing plan. Let’s not forget the pitiful plan to rehabilitate Chris Brown. That dog won’t hunt.

And then there’s Adele. Simple, elegant, unadorned. She just got up and sang “Someone Life You” with a piano accompaniment and blew everyone away. It doesn’t matter if she wins or loses. She’s already won. Her album has been number 1 for 33 weeks. You can’t do better than that. She doesn’t need MTV, the Marketing TV Network..

One nice digression: Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters won something. I like them. What the heck. The Foos appearance was the only link to actual rock and roll. And he gave a shout out to Judy McGrath. Classy. Otherwise, yuck yuck yuck.

Janet Jackson Does Not Have a Secret Son

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I got a kick out of the National Enquirer cover story this week. Janet Jackson’s ex mother in law says that Janet and her son, James, are the parents of Michael Jackson barnicle Omer Bhatti. I don’t know the mechanics of these things: does the Enquirer go to these people and pay them to make up stories? It’s all a lot of fun, I guess. Omer Bhatti, of course, has actual parents in Norway. Their names are Riz and Pia Bhatti.

I’ve written about this a lot over the years. When Omer was 12, they dressed him up a like a mini Michael and brought him to Tunis, where Michael was performing in 1996. Omer did a little moonwalking in the lobby and Michael invited him to his suite. He liked the kid so much that he added the Bhattis to his tour. Then Riz and Pia went to work for him at Neverland.

Over the years, Omer stayed at Neverland even after his parents returned to Norway. When he joined them at home, Omer became a Michael Jackson imitator and made money from it. He let people think he was Michael’s kid. Jackson liked to tell intimates that Omer was his secret illegitimate son; none of it was true. It was just Michael’s fantasy and it was sad.

As far as Janet Jackson goes, I do feel bad for her. For years a persistent rumor circulated that she had a secret child that been raised by her sister, Rebbie. Now it’s this thing. Janet has no children, and I’m sure it’s frustrating to keep reading these crazy stories. Omer Bhatti quite likes it, though, because it perpetuates his connection to Michael Jackson.

Joy Behar: “The Wedding Ring Itches”

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We won’t see the newly hitched Joy Behar on “The View” until September 6th. But in the meantime, she appeared last night in East Hampton in an all star version of “Celebrity Autobiography” at Guild Hall. Her twenty nine year fiance, now husband, Steve Janowitz, was in the audience cheering her on.

Why did they rush into this marriage after three decades? “A lot of things changed,” Janowitz told me after the show. “We have a grandchild now. And we’re doing things like estate planning. It just all came together.” And Joy? “All I know is, the wedding itches,” she told me. She keeps taking it off. When “The View” returns next month, Behar has prepared the Top Ten reasons to get married. “It’s very funny,” Steve told me.

“Celebrity Autobiography” brought other celebrities, like Bob and Lynn Balaban, and Alec Baldwin with his young yoga teacher girlfriend, to the theatre. East Hampton was otherwise deserted, but Guild Hall was packed to see Behar, Mario Cantone, Scott Adsit from “30 Rock,” Tovah Feldshuh, and a reunion of Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane from “The Producers.”

Broerick and Lane have remained close friends (nothing more, don’t get excited) since then. Indeed, Broderick and his son, James, had to bunk with Lane at his house since the Broderick-Sarah Jessica Parker homestead–closer to the beach–had to be boarded up for the storm.

And what of “Celebrity Autobiography”? It’s hilarious. The actors read excerpts from memoirs ?authored”–and that’s to use the word loosely–by famous people. Last night’s offerings came from Ivana Trump, Kenny Loggins, the boy band NSync, rocker Tommy Lee, Sylvester Stallone, Kathleen Turner, Ethel Merman, and Tallulah Bankhead. The books are badly written, the thoughts in them don’t track. All of it shows hubris, ego, and diffidence that would make Napoleon blush. Cantone juxtaposed Liza Minnelli with Broderick’s Geraldo Rivera– he insisted on pronouncing the Fox news man’s first name with a hard G–as Broderick recounted their almost-affair.

A show stopper: Behar reading from Madonna’s long lost “Sex” book. Long out of print, that raunchy tome merits a second look.Behar read a section in which Madonna, was then in her 30s, extolls the virtues of sleeping with younger guys. Delightfully low class and vulgar. Not exactly what you’d expect from the average admirer of the Duchess of Windsor.

Still the highlight of the evening was the entire gang’s reading of books by Elizabeth Taylor, Eddie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds, with Broderick playing Richard Burton and Lane as Mike Todd. The greatest Hollywood scandal–better than anything now–was a scream, especially listening to each participant’s different published take on how Fisher left Reynolds for Taylor, and Taylor left Fisher for Burton.

All of it–the above trio, as well as Tallulah Bankhead buying chimps and lion cubs well before Michael Jackson came along–just showed us nothing has changed. Celebrities are quite mad, and we are responsible. Lots of fun.

Now on to the Hurricane!

 

Frank Dileo, The Real Story of Michael Jackson’s Brilliant Manager

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I’m finally getting to write about my friend Frank Dileo, who died yesterday at age 63. Frank was Michael Jackson’s loyal and brilliant manager and friend, the architect of his success and his amazing career. You want to know about “Thriller”? It was Frank, “Bad”? Frank again. It was Frank who sat through Michael’s child molestation trial in 2005 in Santa Maria, California, far from his home in Ohio, at his own expense.

It was Frank who returned in the spring of 2009 to keep Michael on the straight and narrow so he could rehearse for his London concert dates. It was Frank who kissed Michael on the forehead, closed his eyes in the emergency room, and went out to tell Michael’s kids that their father had died. For Michael, Frank was always there.

I met Frank a long time ago, but we bonded during that trial. He’d come to god forsaken Santa Maria barely able to see. He had severely limited vision due to glaucoma and diabetes, and was waiting for an operation. He couldn’t drive, so I was his self appointed chauffeur. It was a long trial, and it wasn’t like Michael was in any shape to acknowledge Frank or to thank him. But he hung in there, and was a particular friend to Katherine Jackson, who attended the trial every day.

What Frank didn’t want to concede was that the Jacksons were notoriously disloyal. While the trial raged on, Michael’s former chief of security and surrogate father, Bill Bray, lay dying in a hospital bed in a little house in Los Angeles near the 10 freeway. Michael and all the Jacksons had simply dropped him. Bray, who I visited a few times, was semi-comatose and cared for by his lady friend. She wondered what had happened to the Jacksons. They were gone.

When the trial was over, and Michael hotfooted it to Bahrain and other locales, Dileo was similarly cut off. It wasn’t until Michael was in dire financial straits, and struggling to prepare for London, that he called on Frank. Dileo was there in a flash. He was the most loyal friend you could ask for. Again, he came at his own expense. Even though he’d lived high during the 80s with Michael, Frank didn’t make out like some of Jackson’s other advisers. His attitude was, you don’t ask. You wait for someone–Michael, Sony–to do the right thing. They never did.

I digress. Frank had the worst health imaginable. Forget the stuff people in the record business did in those crazy Eighties. He smoked stogies, ate thick steaks, liked a good scotch. He loved The Palm in Nashville, and the breakfast room at the Beverly Hilton. At the latter he’d become a fixture in the last couple of years, moving in to help Michael and staying–even though he had a wonderful and understanding wife, Linda, and kids Belinda and Dominic, back in Ohio. He became the mascot of the Beverly Hilton. When he got sick this past spring, the staff came to Cedars Sinai and held prayer vigils. They were that fond of him.

Do nice guys finish last? I don’t think so. Frank played mobsters in movies like “Goodfellas” and liked to act tough, but he was a sweetheart. If only he’d been a little terrifying or threatening maybe he’d have made more money. But he led with his heart, and that always gets you into trouble. Was he disillusioned with Michael’s executors? Yes. He brought John Branca back into Michael’s life six weeks before Jackson died. With Branca came the utterly useless John McClain, who resented Frank and did everything he could to blunt his participation. The lackluster performance of the “Michael” album, which Frank tried to guide, can be laid at McClain’s feet.

Since Frank’s illness–resulting from triple bypass surgery in March–I have to say that the estate has been incredibly helpful, however. The details are private. But when Frank’s family needed support they got it. So you have to balance these things out.

So what now? I’m going to do what Frank did to stay healthy: fruit for breakfast, with bacon and French toast. And remember my friend, who was barely five feet tall, but was a giant among men.

 

Chazz Palminteri Cast in Barry Levinson “Gotti” Film

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Just announced: Chazz Paliminteri has been cast as monster Paul Castellano in Barry Levinson’s “Gotti” film. Chazz joins John Travolta, Ben Foster, and who knows, maybe even Lindsay Lohan. James Toback rewrote the script after Levinson took over this summer from Nick Cassavetes. Castellano, of course, was gunned down in front of Sparks Steak House in New York quite famously back on December 16, 1985. Since then, diners look both ways before exiting, and don’t take home that many doggie bags. (It could be their last meal.) You could say Chazz has “steaked” his claim on this movie. “Gotti” is shaping up to be quite an event, and not for vegetarians.

Paul McCartney New Classical Album, But Not on Decca Records

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Wow–sooo exciting. The minute I read on the Hollywood Reporter website that Paul McCartney’s new classical album was coming out on Decca Records, I called over there to congratulate them. After all, THR says the Beatles were turned down by Decca some 50 years ago. Alas, tisn’t true. Sorry THR! From Decca: “Paul McCartney is signed to Concord Records. We believe he asked to have the album released internationally on the Decca label.” Yes, indeed. Paul is sure enough signed to Concord. And Concord licensed the classical recording, “Ocean’s Kingdom,” to Decca in the United Kingdom. Whoops! Not exactly the stunning history making m0ment as advertised in THR. So much for “breaking news.” McCartney will debut the “Ocean’s Kingdom” music on September 22nd in New York at the New York City Ballet. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of this music makes it  into the animated film McCartney is writing for the adaptation of his children’s book into a film for Michael Lynne and Bob Shaye under their Unique Films banner. I told you about that film exclusively back in mid July.

http://www.showbiz411.com/2011/07/18/paul-mccartney-animated-feature-on-the-horizon