Anyone Who Had a Heart: My Life and Music

Loved his stories, but his writing style was awful. Surprised the publisher released this as is and didn't suggest a ghostwriter. His stories are so amazing....but they way he tells them was so juvenile.

With the beautiful, moving music this man created, I had thought that he would be a sensitive, caring, compassionate individual. Boy was I in for a surprise! I've now had to change my opinion: he is selfish, uncaring, has no compassion or loyalty. The way he treated Hal, the man who wrote the beautiful lyrics; his wife, Angie, who he cheated on and divorced and left her solely responsible for the raising of his own daughter; the way he treated his own DAUGHTER!!! The man is a jerk and a loser. Now I cringe when I hear his music.

The Burt Bacharach I've seen in concert and listened to in an interview or two is a kind, courtly, somewhat self-deprecating gentleman. He was most definitely missing in this book. His intent may have been to not spare himself and to show all of the proverbial 'warts and all...' If so, he succeeded in this disjointed tell-all that told way too much.

In other words, the Burt Bacharach in this book is just another over-indulged, over-sexed, over-blown diva that fed his ego off of the adulation from the masses and not a few women.

A little humility -- and humanity -- slips in toward the end of the book when he writes about his current wife and children. When I finished it, I slammed the cover of my eReader closed and burst out "What a JERK!!!"

And then turned on the CD player and listened to the Live in Sydney concert, and gloried in the sounds of the lovely music. Sigh.

Talk about inflated egos!!!
Bacharach is so in love with himself it isn't even funny.
He is never faithful, virtually abandons his daughter because "she is hard to be around", and gets into a year long tiff with his partners and never really takes responsibility for anything. Oh, he does come up with some feeble apologies but always backed by how misunderstood he seems to be to the wronged parties. The reader is supposed to feel empathy with him because he is driven to be a perfectionist. Bah, control freak is more like it. Angie Dickenson is the real hero in this book. Whether using her connections to get Bacharach a step up in the business or giving her all to their troubled daughter, she shines in all lights. Too bad some of her love and inner beauty don't rub off on Bacharach

I love his music and hate his politics. Burt thinks Obama is so wonderful even though he is bankrupting the USA!
He goes on and on about how much of a nice guy Obama is. The rest of the book is great. Good thing Burt doesn't have to use common sense to make money.

I had always thought him some vaguely handsome man who wrote a lot of catchy tunes, and wanted to know more when our local group decided to sing some of his work. This book clanks through confessions of being actively-passively anti-Semitic as a (Jewish) child, going to 'beat up the Jewish kids' with his friends because he wanted to fit in and felt little Jewish identity (as if not being one of something is a good reason to beat up someone who is!!!), and clanks along through explicitly offensive descriptions of sexual activity with people, many named, and crude crass details about physical attributes of theirs, etc., *including of those who are also quoted in the book*. I started to skim after the first few chapters, and only by mistake got to horrifying details of their child killing household pets, which her mother then went out and replaced. Horrifying, tragic, coarse, common, very discouraging--it comes across as either him having gone a little senile, or maybe having no insight or judgment at all. I actually threw it away as opposed to giving it to the local library, since I didn't want to turn others off him and his music.

Burt Bacharach does not come across well in Carol Bayer Sager’s They're Playing Our Song: A Memoir. In fact, he seemed so narcissistic, I wasn’t sure I wanted to read his memoir. But curiosity prevailed and I got it from the library. Shortly after starting it, I thought about taking it right back to the library, too. Narcissism wasn't his only problem. One soon wondered if he possibly had the same thing his first-born daughter did–-Asperger’s. Reading the book immediately became a problem because here was a man in his eighties talking like a vulgar college boy about women. Even more disturbing, he talked about cheating on and changing wives like he was talking about the changing weather. At no point in the book did he answer the questions so many readers would be wondering. Didn't you feel guilty at all about cheating on your wives? Are you incapable of loyalty? Are you amoral or what?

Maybe some fault lies with the way the book is written. At first, I thought it was obviously written by a musician who was not much of a writer, considering it had no flow. Then later, I noticed there was another name on the cover. The memoir was actually written by a writer. All the acknowledgments at the end of the book belonged to that writer. Not only that, some of the material in the book; where relatives, friends or colleagues were being quoted; actually came from other previously published sources. It looked all the world, however, that they had written their memories and opinions of Mr. Bacharach strictly for this book. How odd.

Then, the oddest thing of all happened at the end of the memoir–-Mr. Bacharach became a totally different person! He was a dedicated husband to his fourth wife, who is over 30 years younger; he was a proud, devoted father to his three surviving children; he was a reflective and thoughtful man. One can only guess age possibly brought him some wisdom and peace of mind; either that or age made it impossible for him to cheat or travel alone as much. He gave Hal David all the credit due him, too. It was too late to mend his relationship with his oldest child, though. Nikki Bacharach, his daughter with Angie Dickinson, killed herself in 2007, at the age of 40. She left a note for her father, which he has never read, blaming him for the sorrow in her life.

Music wise, there was lots of composer talk, as well as lots of interesting stories and facts about specific songs. What The World Needs Now Is Love was actually put away a year or so after it was written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach, because they didn’t think it was that great a song. My Little Red Book (Stereo Version) was surprisingly mentioned, and few probably know that was a Bacharach/David song. Actually, few probably even remember the song. I remember it, and was surprised when I first found out who wrote it. The duo’s breakup with Dionne Warwick was, of course, also talked about, as well as their breakup with each other.

Then, there was the Lost Horizon: Original Soundtrack (1973 Film), which was blamed for the Bacharach/David breakup. It's too sad people still can't separate the soundtrack from the movie. There aren’t that many movie soundtracks that are happily listened to from start to finish by the average music listener. In fact, the average music listener probably only know the main title theme of most soundtracks. While the Lost Horizon: Original Soundtrack (1973 Film) may have been uneven, it still had more than one good song. Living Together, Growing Together (Digitally Remastered 1997) was a hit for the Fifth Dimension. The World Is A Circle was well played on easy listening radio stations. For more serious songs, I thought “Share The Joy” was beautiful and dramatic. “If I Could Go Back” also had beauty and drama in its lyrics, but was not one of Mr. Bacharach’s greatest compositions. And the main title theme? I would argue with anyone that Shawn Phillip’s haunting rendition of “Lost Horizon” was as glorious as a movie title theme could be, both the lyrics and the music. In addition, it was a successful record for him. Furthermore, the soundtrack album itself went to #56 on the Billboard 200. Hence, it is a shame they won’t release that song by Mr. Phillips as an MP3, or release a digital version of the entire soundtrack, and stop falsely remembering it as a dud because the movie was a dud.

Alas, back to Burt Bacharach and this book . . . if you find crudeness and profanity distasteful, you might want to skip it; although the crudeness ends early in the book; while the profanity never ends. (And it was interesting that Mr. Bacharach said one reason his daughter Nikki could not be around his younger children was because she swore too much. ) If cheaters who feel no remorse anger you, definitely avoid this book; although the ex-wives’ voices are heard. If you want to read something about Hal David, however, do check this out of the library or buy it. It’s not unflattering to Mr. David, and there’s apparently no autobiography by him or biography about him in print. Moreover, if you want to read about the very flawed and somewhat odd half of the Bacharach/David song writing team, go ahead and read Anyone Who Had a Heart: My Life and Music . Just don’t expect to find much heart in it until the last part of the memoir.

P.S. Burt Bacharach once dated actress Norma Crane. Does anyone else think she resembled his mother? :)

Wow, what a disappointment this man is. I love the music: it's melodic, complex, unforgettably hummable, and as good as pop music can get. "Alfie" has to be one of the most complicated and brilliant pop songs ever written. Such wonderful music deserves to have been written by a gracious, elegant, refined man. No such luck here. Bacharach is stunningly - shockingly - low class, vulgar, trashy, whorish, shallow. He has the mind of a ruttish sailor at a cheap brothel - and seems not to give a flying fig about who knows it. Women are valuable to him if they have "colossal t##s." One would think that if you were one of the great pop composers of the century that you would try to put on your best face on for your autobiography. After all, this will be for posterity. Instead, Burt seems so lacking in self-awareness and decency that he appears to think that we'll be amused by his frankness and piggishness.
I wasn't.
I lost all respect for the man. And now I feel like I need to take a shower to clean myself.

Burt Bacharach's memoir is revealing and informative. Too many show biz autobiographies focus too much on the personal and make only passing reference to the projects the celebrity was involved in. Bacharach does an excellent job discussing the many hit songs he wrote and produced and reveals the decision-making processes and judgments that went into them. The reader can get a useful perspective on songwriting from this book.

Bacharach's main contribution to popular song is his mixing of unusual time signatures; instead of doing only 3/4 and 4/4, which is the practice of most popular composers, Bacharach is known for switching from 4/4 to 9/8 to 5/8 and back to 4/4 all in the space of a few measures. In the book he details instances where he did this and explained why -- most of the time he was trying to set words by the late Hal David to music and chose to alter the time signature rather than demand changes to the cadence of David's words.

In addition to providing detailed cases from his composing, Bacharach also provides a very detailed and open account of his personal life and the courses he's taken. An unusual aspect of this memoir is that Bacharach lets others in his life (his wife and ex-wives, songwriting partners, etc.) interject their own reminiscences in sections, which sometimes are at odds with the story Bacharach lays out in his own narrative.

The life and 2007 suicide of his daughter Nikki is a large part of the book. Nikki weighed less than two pounds at her 1966 birth and was not expected to live. She suffered from mental and physical problems throughout her life that Bacharach attributes to her premature birth. Bacharach discusses the challenges he and second wife Angie Dickinson faced raising her; how late in her life they realized she probably had Asperger's syndrome; and how he ignored her stated desire for suicide, believing it to be the type of drama she had often engaged in.

Fans of Bacharach's music will greatly enjoy this book.

This oddly-structured book ends up being an interesting read about a not-very-nice guy. It's actually more of an oral history, with Bacharach's self-congratulatory sections the least interesting portions. What makes the book worth reading are the comments quoted in full paragraphs from others in his life, including his ex-wives who expose how incredibly self-centered the composer is.

This is not a book that makes the songwriter look good, because it uncovers his numerous affairs, cheating on his wives, ignoring his children, and his "problem" with taking drugs. Bacharach always describes things in the most positive terms, so he doesn't apologize for the adultery nor for abandoning his children nor for being an addict (which he never admits). He just glibly tosses aside that he does dope, can't go to sleep without medication, didn't know what to do with his children, is hooked on horse racing, and fell in love with women the first time he'd see them even though he was married. There are also a number of lawsuits and collaborator break-ups that he never resolves in the book, but it's obvious that this guy is full of himself and others had a difficult time working with him.

There are also some grenades thrown at others. Bacharach and the other voices in the book take well-deserved slams at Dionne Warwick, try to diminish the credit Hal David receives for the compositions, and at points turn the book into an anti-Bush, pro-Obama political rant.

While it's entertaining, the longer the book goes the less you like the composer. His worst quality appears to be his inability to father his children, not accepting the fact that he needs to be there instead of flying all over the world or staying up all night in recording sessions. One of the saddest quotes is when his third wife says that though Bacharach was a lousy husband he was a great father because "there wasn't as single night when, wherever Burt was, he didn't call him (his son) to say good night." Wow--a couple minutes on the phone each night with his boy--that's quite a parent!

Which leads to the most difficult part of the book--the suicide of his firstborn child that he had with second wife Angie Dickinson named Nikki. The book opens with his profession of love for her and it details the girl's mental struggles, including Burt's insistence on putting her in a facility in Minnesota for ten years as a young adult. The daughter's cries of just wanting her father to be with her are ignored. Angie even writes at one point that the only way Nikki improved was when Angie quit work and stayed with her every moment; meanwhile Burt was flying around the world banging other women saying he didn't know what else to do for his kid. The solution was in the final letter the girl left her father--that she just wanted him to be around! But Bacharach won't admit it, blaming Nikki's problems on bad doctors. This guy comes across as too self-centered to be a decent parent, husband or even composing partner. The book's title, based on one of his less-successful songs, is ironic since it appears Burt has no real heart for anything but himself and his songs.

This book attracted negative reviews in the Australian press and so, despite being a fan of Burt's songwriting for 50 years, I was not interested in buying it. That changed when I saw it in a bookshop and browsed a few topics in the book from the very helpful index. I was immediately hooked, bought the book, found it absolutely engrossing and was pleased I had enjoyed a good read. I see why the negatives - Burt is self-absorbed and sexist. But he is in the insecure world of show business where an individual is justified in enjoying his/her success, and he is clearly a man of his 80-plus years vintage in his attitudes to women. Some of this is not pretty but I found it interesting that a man with so much charm in his public persona is so unreconstructed in his private life and can still churn out wonderful music. The book is entirely satisfying in its discussion of Burt's career and music and that's a real strength. I've read other books on Bacharach's career and music but none were as insightful or as satisfying as this. I strongly recommend this book to any long time fan of Burt's who is prepared to tolerate the odd bout of sexism and narcissism in order to find real pearls of information.

Burt Bacharach presents his reflections on his life from his birth in Kansas City in 1928 to his receiving The Gershwin Prize for lifetime achievement in music in 2012. I found the book to be very refreshing in terms of detailing his stories that formed his career. I also appreciated the insertion of dissenting views from various people mentioned in the memoir that tell a slightly different story from what Burt tells us. Burt was very reclusive in his early life and did not do well in high school which led him to being excluded from attending the prestigious music schools at the time. He settled on attending McGill University in Montreal, Canada where he got his early training in the music field. Of course, his stories on how he wrote famous songs like "Message to Michael," "What the World Needs Now," "Heartlight" and other songs were very readable.

The book is full of conflicts with various people. It tells of the disastrous effort in creating the score for Lost Horizon, a remake of the classic Frank Capra film. The depression that he had as a result from this fiasco led to the breaking of his partnership with Hal David. It was at this time that he had a falling out with Dionne Warwick, a longtime colleague who sang most of Bacharach's early works. His devotion to his work led to the straining of many relationships including his first three marriages, one of which was to actress Angie Dickinson. The greatest crisis in his life was his relationship with his oldest daughter Nikki. She had great health problems, both physical and mental, as a result of her being born prematurely and the constant failures of her rehabilitation led to her eventual suicide in 2007. As a non musician, I found it hard to follow the musical terms that he covers in the memoir. Four/four, three/three and seven/eighths are terms that are rather foreign to me. Also, I found it interesting that he was furious at people who made callous comments about how Nikki looked at her birth and that if they were him, they would throw her away. He also was livid about his girlfriend's decision to have an abortion. It would have been interesting if he would have fleshed out these incidents in his life.

This book was a great read and should be read by those interested in pop music history. A solid effort with an index and notes on sources. Four Stars.

It seems necessary to point out that this book was written with Robert Greenfield; a number of posters here remarked that a ghost writer or editor should have done better. You can check out Mr. Greenfield's other books, music related. They are generally high rated.
The book is copyright 2013, so Bacharach could have been as old as eighty-five as he worked on this. He allowed things to appear here which many readers have chosen to judge him negatively for.
I was under an incorrect assumption while reading the book that significant persons in his life were speaking through interviews conducted for the book. In fact end book 'Sources' credits material published elsewhere by Angie Dickinson, Marlene Dietrich, and Hal David. Others quoted did come from interviews for the book.
Bacharach stood on the head of numerous classical luminaries and absorbed useful knowledge.
'In the days of old ... when they dug up the gold' street corner kids were becoming rich quick on the expanding music market. Freshness paid off big, Les Paul comes to mind, the Beatles many others. The David, Bacharach, Warwick team didn't miss.
Someone once said that the rich are different than us, they have more money. Also, the famous: more people know them.

Burt Bacharach takes us through his life, and delivers his unique perspective on things. It really does read a lot like the Steve Jobs biography -- Bacharach comes across as a very creative soul with an amazing talent, who also carries an egocentric view of the world and some glaring deficiencies in other parts of his life. The book is well-written, and the audio book version includes both male and female voices that gives it an engaging flow. You may not come away liking him...but it's a fascinating read.

This book is a couple of notches above many remember-when show-biz books for two reasons.

#1: Bacharach’s monumental artistic achievements. The most obvious of these are the dozens of memorable melodies many of us still whistle and hum, decades after they were created. Less obvious is Bacharach’s influence in rehearsals and in recording studios where he was an exhaustive—and exasperating—perfectionist, creating the sounds we know and love. He was—and is—an amazing creative force.

#2 The book’s creator, Robert Greenfield. Despite the first person narrative, and his name in big bold letters on the cover, Bacharach did not “write” this book. I use quotation marks because there is no real evidence that Bacharach ever put pen to paper or fingers on a keyboard. He gave interviews. The book is Greenfield’s. Only the back flap’s four-line note gives the reader any indication of who and what Greenfield is (author of ten books; award-winning journalist, novelist, playwright and screenwriter.) Greenfield either promoted his own concept or was, I suspect, hired to do the job. Either way, he’s done it most ably.

Greenfield read other biographies—he cites at least 2— organizing and edited magazine articles, third-party interviews with Bacharach, drew upon TV features dedicated to the composer, and arranged and edited interviews with a host of individuals who figure prominently in Bacharach’s personal and professional life, including two wives, female companions and musical performers and producers. That makes this book a biography, not autobiography, and that is an important, satisfying difference as others say what Bacharach can’t—or won’t. Finally, and perhaps most important, Greenfield makes us want to read this book. One page one, he plunks us down in the midst of what is arguably Burt’s biggest life crisis and backtracks from there. The reader is immediately, completely hooked.

However, the person more responsible for Bacharach’s success than anyone else, is, by comparison, almost lost in these pages. It is Burt’s partner-in-art, Hal David. There is no Hal David interview, here. The elderly, frail lyricist died in 2012 just before this book was completed. If Greenfield had managed this, what a wonderful addition David would have made!

My contention is this: while Burt was Hal David’s partner (for seventeen of the “hit” years,) it wasn’t the trumpet phrases, the piano intros or unexpected ear-catching shifts in tempo and time signatures that made the products of their collaborations such huge hits. It wasn’t just the marvelous melodies, either. It was Hal’s work. It was the words; words of Alfie, The Look of Love, Close To You. Irrefutable proof: during those years, just one of their songs became an instrumental hit (and only when singer Johnny Rivers pulled out at the last moment.) Burt admits Herb Alpert “saved my ass” by recording that song—Casino Royale—with the Tijuana Brass. Then, thanks to Hal, the song-writing duo returned the favour by providing Alpert with his first vocal hit, This Guy’s In Love With You, which, incidentally, gave Bacharach-David their first #1 hit, from a performer who had never sung on record before. Why? Hal's words!

So, it’s galling that Hal David gets short shrift, here. David was to blame, too, unable or unwilling to project himself the way Bacharach did and still does (singing, when he has no business singing because he can’t.) Maybe it’s what made the partnership work in the first place. Two egos the size of Bacharach’s? No way. When the partnership broke up, it was a tragic result of Burt’s ego (which Bacharach freely admits, and laments the loss of hits that might-have-been.) Bacharach’s former wife, Angie Dickenson says it, calling David “old fashioned”; someone who “had to create his own importance because the public made Burt important...” and Burt, of course, simply couldn’t ignore what the public wanted.

Lack of recognition still plagues Hal David today. It is unconscionable that recording companies put Bacharach’s name on “Best of” compilations of vocal hits by Pitney, Warwick, Pitney, Springfield and all the rest...and leave David’s name (not to mention earlier lyric partners) off the packages entirely. This includes the new 2-disc compilation that was rushed out in the wake of this book’s release. Shameful. David and others—not Bacharach—wrote the words sung by these recording stars, words that made them hits.

Did David care that he was left in the shadow of his partner? Sure. But he couldn’t change what he was. And besides, without Burt, what would Hal David have been? So, pragmatic, perhaps, he likely did the job he did so well and loved so much and sat on his hands most of the time, and let Burt take the two of them to levels of artistic fulfillment and financial success he likely wouldn’t have otherwise enjoyed. Something like Robert Greenfield, come to think of it. And, hey, at least Greenfield got his name on the cover.

Why the anger and outrage amongst those reviewing this book? Yes, he is a self-absorbed man in love with himself, but most extremely talented people are narcissists. Also, no one, (unless they have walked in his shoes) has the right to criticize his actions and feelings toward his daughter. Too many armchair critics out there who have no idea what autism is all about.

one big dysfuntional family!!! I was 13 or 14 back in '82 in Jr High school attending music class when our instructor came up with an idea for the class to do a chalkboard collage of each students favorite musician/band. When my turn came I wrote Burt Bacharach on the chalkboard. My instructor became immediately incensed by my writing his name and in the most of hostile / aggatated voices/demeanors he began to scold me and then asked " Who the hell is Burt Bacharach?" He made me erase Burt's name from the chalkboard and replace it with another well - known bands name.
I now see this as somewhat of a "warning" for future reference.
I can't say I didn't enjoy reading sections of Burt's book...such as how he started out so young and was very dedicated/loyal and hard working which is very admirable. How he took the ugly ...less desirable jobs in order to work his way to his goals/dreams. I especially was fond of the Brown's Hotel story as I used to live at the Brown's.
I loved how he explained his way of writing music and how he painstakingly worked to achieve what he thought was best...which clearly shows in his music. He has undeniably produced some of the greatest tunes in this history of music!!!!
Burt the muscian, composer,conductor is GENIUS!! Burt the man is what every woman has been WARNED to stay away from!!! As a man and his personal life especially with his daughter Nikki is disgraceful , he is without question the true definition of NARCISSIST!! He should have sought out therapy long ago for himself although a person with NPD rarely can be helped. I dislike very much, Burt as a person and have lost any respect I had for him as a person.He would have been much better off steering clear of his personal life or at the very least taking responsibility for his actions...which a person with NPD never does,someone else is always to blame. He has NO clue how dysfuntional he really is and the severity of damage he has caused especially to his daughter Nikki whom it is so transparent that he was embarrassed by and wanted little to nothing to do with her because it took away from his perfection and his perfect little life and perfect little world and adulation of himself.
The dynamics of all his marriages and relationships are cluttered with emotional retardation , immaturity , sickness, co-dependency , enabling , self absorbtion and so much dysfunction it's hard to comprehend how anyone survived.
I feel little compassion for him especially how he is using his daughter's suicide to further bring attention to himself , and how he states " HE did everything he could" which maybe true in his case that all he could do is send her away not give her the emotional love and support she deserved nor could he be a father to her and protect her as he should and hold her in the highest regard as a father should. He was nothing more than ashamed of her.
The last paragraph in his book literally made me want to vomit!!! Thankfully his daughter Nikki doesn't have to endure yet another slap in the face from him!!
His musical life is fascinating to read about and all the encounters he had with so many of the greatest muscians ever!!! His personal life ...I wish I never read this book because now I will never enjoy his music the way in which I did for so many years and the memories I have as a teenager listening to Burt when other kids were listening to the music of the time are now for me not endearing, his music no longer sooths my soul as it once did...now he is just some old dude that wrote songs and leaves a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I really wanted to like this. Returned the audiobook about 40 minutes in. He is insufferably and unabashedly ego-centric. I was hoping to hear more about his humanity, personal challenges, triumphs and inspirations. I did not expect him to be so base.

This man is very talented and has lead an interesting life. However his narration is stilted and uninteresting. Lots of (unnecessary in my opinion) sexual references. A good editor could've made this a compelling read while keeping Bacharach's voice intact.

not a flattering portrait. Still, not surprising. Over the years he's divided opinion at a personal level. I wonder if he actually read some of what his ghost writer has rendered!

There's wisdom in the maxim that just because you love foie gras, you don't have to meet the goose.

I thoroughly enjoyed learning the backround for this man and his wonderful music.
He is a genious no question. I was sorry that he brought in the politics as it took so much out of this story for me.

One would think the memoir of a delusional, vain, egoistical putz would be fascinating but in addition to everything else, Mr. Bachrach's book is a big bore. Even the excessive name-dropping is just that...droppings.
Worse, the book is mean and negative, opening as follows "I had only been married to Angie Dickinson for nine months when I started thinking about getting a divorce." Not very chivalrous, certainly not in keeping with a book that has the word "heart" in the title.
If you buy it, get an accompanying clothes pin. It stinks that bad.
Rosemary Downey