I’m no drama queen, but yesterday was a crap day in the life of JK. “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart” was the first song that came to mind. I first heard the song on an Al Green album, and as the pros would put it, he owned that song. At 6.28 minutes, it’s just not long enough. I could listen to the Reverend sing it all day. The lyrics are so desperately sad, yet Al’s version is so uplifting that you just want to wallow in your own misery that little bit longer. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was first performed (and written) by the Bee Gees. Now don’t get me wrong, the Bee Gees are no slouches. They’ve penned some of the greatest pop vignettes in the last half century (yes, it was almost 60 years since they first entered the UK charts), but their version is well, very Bee Gees. (Take a listen and judge for yourselves). And to think that this song was written by the Gibb brothers for Andy Williams. Heaven forbid. And before you all scream at once, I profess to owning a few of Mr Williams' superior recordings and have found myself singing along, if not virtually toe-tapping, to “Can’t Get Used To Losing You” and others. Here’s a little quiz for you (no googling allowed). How many hit songs can you name that were written by the Gibbs for other artists? Name 1 song - at least you don’t have cloth ears, Name 2 songs – you love your radio Name 3 songs or more – you’re a bit of a trainspotter, congratulations!
Back to the Reverend. "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart" is taken from Al Green's 1972 album "Let's Stay Together", which also spawned the hit of the same name, Al Green's only number 1 chart hit. It's the song he'll most be remembered for. I'm embarrassed to say that I only discovered Al's original version through Tina Turner's cover of the song. It helped relaunch Tina's career in 1983, with her hugely successful album ["Private Dancer"] released in 1984.(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Private_Dancer). So hats off to Tina for introducing me to the wonderful world of Al Green. I have to remind myself that every time I do my grumpy daddy routine and slag off some terrible cover version of an old classic, someone somewhere will discover the original version and step into a whole new world of music.