Goodbye, please don’t cry, I will always love you

“I’ve never been offended by all the dumb blonde jokes people tell about me.  You know why?  It’s because I know I’m not dumb… and I also know I’m not blonde.

This famous Dolly Parton quote succinctly captures her essence:  Keen self-awareness.  Genuine humility.  Positive attitude.  A wonderful sense of humor.

And now, it seems impossible, but it’s true. Dolly is gone.

This extraordinary woman, who has managed to shine in multiple disciplines (songwriting, singing, recording, performing, films, television, entertainment businesses and philanthropic endeavors), died Tuesday, August 25th, at age 80. As David Graham of The Atlantic put it: “During one of the most divisive eras in modern times, Parton was perhaps the only person in the U.S. who commanded universal affection. Her death leaves an absence that no contemporary cultural figure could dream of filling.”

I’ve written way too many obituaries on this blog since I started it in 2015, but this week I’m finding it especially challenging because Dolly Parton felt to many folks like one of those people who would always be with us. Her influence transcended generations, musical tastes and political lines. It seems that everyone loved her.

The outpouring of grief and loss and earnest tribute these past few days has been pretty much unprecedented. Her close friends, compatriots and collaborators in the music industry have bared their hearts and souls, of course, as have celebrities in film, politics, community outreach and other professions.

“We are all crushed here at our house,” said Vince Gill. “One of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard was when Dolly and I sang that last note of ‘I Will Always Love You’ the year we performed it on the CMA Awards [in 1995].”

“A world without Dolly doesn’t seem possible, or real, or right,” said Taylor Swift. “She gave us someone to look up to while encouraging us to be who we are as individuals.”

Even British art rocker Peter Gabriel was moved to comment. “Maybe the Smoky Mountains should now have their own giant Rushmore-like carving of their own daughter, Dolly – the little girl who grew up to become the Queen of America.”

The public at large, too, have been crying their eyes out for this truly beloved woman and the kind, selfless way she lived her life. In Nashville, where she has lived for six decades, there’s already a move afoot to rename the airport as Dolly Parton International Airport, and I have little doubt that’ll happen. One man on social media called for a national day of mourning, adding, “We need a Dolly Revolution. Let’s Make America Kind Again.”

In front of Parton’s Nashville estate this week

As much as she accomplished in the entertainment industry, she is being lauded much more for her generosity, her contagious bright light, her inspiring words and actions. A motivational speaker and life coach named Krista Demcher summed it up succinctly in a social media post Thursday morning:

“Imagine spending 80 years on the planet writing more than 3,000 songs, winning 11 Grammys and 10 CMAs, having 55 Top Ten hits, an Emmy and countless other nominations, and at the end of your life, no one talks about that. Instead, they talk about the kind of person you were; how you loved others well, how you stayed true to yourself, how you were generous and would champion others, and how you inspired others to do the same. If that’s not the goal, then I don’t know what is.”

I’d like to tip my hat to a writer named Bill Friskics-Warren, who wrote an exceptional tribute to Parton in The New York Times, published less than 24 hours after she passed away. Here are a few passages:

“Stylistically, Ms. Parton’s music ran the gamut: mountain bluegrass and soul-inflected countrypolitan, disco-era pop and covers of classic rock touchstones written by Neil Young and Led Zeppelin — all of it rendered indelible by her irrepressible spirit and alternately keening and gossamer soprano drawl.”

“Ms. Parton cannily exploited — and transcended — rural stereotypes and kitsch to fashion a down-home chic entirely her own. (‘A country girl’s idea of glam,’ she called it in the 2007 song ‘Backwoods Barbie.’) In the process, she became an international celebrity who headlined stadium tours, starred in Hollywood movies, built a business empire and appeared on the covers of Rolling Stone and Playboy magazines.  Her at times girlish soprano notwithstanding, she was anything but the ‘dumb blonde’ invoked in the title of her 1966 single.

‘I’ve created this and played it up — the makeup, the whole persona,’ Ms. Parton said, alluding to her plastic surgeries as well as her colloquial Dollyisms. ‘But this isn’t all I am. It’s not even most of what I am. Hopefully, people can see beneath the hair to know there’s a brain, see beneath the boobs to know there’s a heart, and see behind all the other stuff to know there’s some talent.”

Parton in 1982

If you’re looking for proof that Dolly Parton is not a “dim bulb,” as she might put it, there’s a revealing story about what happened — or what could have happened, but didn’t — with one of her most famous songs.

In 1973, Parton wrote “I Will Always Love You,” which was meant as a fond tribute to her friend and singing partner, Porter Wagoner, with whom she was amicably ending a seven-year professional collaboration.  Dolly recorded it herself, and then watched as it soared to #1 on the Hot Country charts (although it didn’t even make the Pop charts).

None other than Elvis Presley let it be known that he loved the song and wanted to do his own version.  He was all set to record it when Presley’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, told Parton that it was customary for songwriters to give up half of the publishing rights to Presley for any song he recorded.  While others had gladly agreed to this just to have Elvis sing their song, Parton ended up politely declining.

“I said, ‘I’m really sorry, I just can’t do it,'” she recalled years later, “and I cried all night.  I was still relatively new in the business, and I mean, it was like, ‘Oh, my God, it’s Elvis Presley.’  And other people were saying, ‘You’re nuts. It’s Elvis Presley.’  But I said, ‘I just can’t do that.’ Something in my heart said, ‘Don’t do that.’  And I just didn’t do it. Of course, he would have done a killer rendition…but anyway, so he didn’t.  Then, when Whitney Houston’s version came out years later, I made so much money from it, I could’ve bought Graceland!”

Whitney Houston and Dolly Parton at the 1994 Grammy Awards

Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You,” released in 1992 on the film soundtrack for “The Bodyguard,” spent an incredible 14 weeks at #1 on the Pop charts, bringing the song to an exponentially wider mainstream audience than Parton’s original had achieved.  It played a large part in turning her into one of the wealthiest songwriters in music history.

And that’s merely the most famous of the thousands of songs she has written since breaking into show business in 1966, earning her a much-deserved spot in the Songwriters Hall of Fame.  “Writing’s just as natural to me as getting up and cooking breakfast,” she said in 2002. “I ain’t never far away from a pencil and paper or a tape recorder. I write every day, even when I’m on a plane, in the tub or on the bus. It burns in me. It’s my way of channeling my feelings and my thoughts, the things I see, the people I care about. I think my head would explode if I didn’t get some of that stuff out.”

Full confession:  I’ve never been much of a country music fan myself.  I’m often amused or touched by the lyrics, but pure country music is simply not my cup of tea. Consequently, my knowledge of and appreciation for Parton’s recorded catalog has until recently been limited to her most well-known songs, particularly 1977’s “Here You Come Again” (the engaging Barry Mann-Cynthia Weil tune that marked her first appearance in the mainstream Top Ten), her perky 1981 #1 international hit “9 to 5” from the hit film comedy, and “Islands in the Stream,” the 1983 chart-topping duet with Kenny Rogers.

Over the past 25 years or so, my wife and two daughters have become big fans of country artists, and since moving to Nashville in 2023, I’ve felt inexorably drawn to give the genre more attention.  Although I suspect I’ll always be a rock and roll guy at heart, I have broadened my horizons to examine and eventually embrace many country songs, including several of Dolly’s.

In particular, I’m kind of obsessed over “Jolene,” a marvelous tune she wrote in 1973 whose narrator worries about a gorgeous woman who has been making eyes at her new husband.  “Please don’t take him just because you can,” the lyrics implore, and that sentiment rang true with millions of country fans who sent it to #1 on the country charts.  Even Rolling Stone ranked “Jolene” #214 on its list of “the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.”

Beyond her voluminous recorded catalog of more than 55 solo albums and another dozen LPs with Wagoner, Parton has also impressed me with her film appearances, especially her hilarious 1980 debut in “9 to 5,” where she steals the movie with her portrayal of secretary Doralee Rhodes, and her award-winning turn as the madam in 1983’s “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.”  As in nearly every television performance or interview you can find on YouTube, Parton absolutely lights up the screen with her affable, cheery disposition.

Jane Fonda, Parton’s co-star in “9 to 5,” had this to say about her this week: Dolly was simultaneously a naughty, playful southern gal from the hollows of Tennessee and a deep, soulful thinker who could see through people right down to their true selves. She was many things…lyricist, songstress, player of many instruments, writer, prankster, visionary, loyal friend. Dolly will always be with us because she was so present, so powerful, so generous and playful that she is woven into all our lives and hearts forever.”

Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton with Dabney Coleman in “9 to 5”

Parton’s gentle philosophy of inclusion, acceptance and tolerance for all people led her to take some brave stands along the way. She firmly declined to get involved in political matters, but her hardscrabble childhood, which included being ostracized by classmates for her rough-around-the-edges clothing, led her to embrace the have-nots and ridiculed of society. She stood up for the LGBTQ+ community by writing and singing “Travelin’ Thru,” the Oscar-nominated song from “Transamerica,” the 2005 movie about a transgender woman seeking to connect with her son. In 2017, Parton collaborated with Miley Cyrus, her goddaughter, to record “Rainbowland,” a tribute to gay pride and liberation.

Said Parton, “I don’t believe that we should criticize and judge other people. I think we should be accepting and loving. We are all God’s children. We are who we are, and we should be allowed to be who we are. I just think that we should be more loving, more caring. We are who we are. If you’re gay, you’re gay. If you’re straight, you’re straight, and you should be allowed to be, you know, how you are, and who you are.”

Brandi Carlile, the openly gay superstar, said this week, “Even before I ever met her, I loved her because she took a risk and accepted me (and all of us) for being gay in a time where she didn’t need to say anything. She has been asked to comment and speak on many things over the years, choosing only to speak on that which brings love and mercy to real people, and shutting down any line of questioning that doesn’t. She never wavered on accepting anyone for who they were.”

Dolly appearing with Johnny Carson in 1977

Parton’s self-deprecating sense of humor has served her well, particularly in regard to what she called her “substantial bosom.” As a guest on “The Tonight Show” in the late ’70s, she burst out laughing when Johnny Carson said of her outfit, on the air, “I’d give up a year’s salary for one peek under there!” She always took such comments in stride, and often told jokes of her own. A classic: “I was always a feminist but I never burned my bra.  I was afraid it would take the fire department four days to put it out!”

Comedian John Caponera related this funny anecdote yesterday. “In 1995, I was picked to play Dolly’s love interest in a situation comedy called ‘Heavens to Betsy.’ They filmed six episodes but the show never made it to air. There was one episode where there was a scene that called for me to make out with Dolly. That’s right, I made out with Dolly Parton! Am I bragging? Hell yeah!”

What a remarkable ride she has had — “from the back hills of Tennessee to the Hollywood Hills,” as she put it in 2017. She was born Dolly Rebecca Parton in 1946, the fourth of 12 children brought up in a one-room cabin near the hardscrabble hamlet of Pittman Center in eastern Tennessee, where her father worked the land and her mother struggled to raise the family while instilling in Dolly her love of music and folklore.  Raised in the Church of God where her grandfather pastored, Parton first sang in church at age 6 and started playing guitar and writing songs at age 8.

Dolly Parton in 1966

Appearances on local radio and TV programs eventually caught the eye of industry folks, and upon graduation from high school, she moved to Nashville and signed with Combine Publishing.  Several of her earliest compositions (“Put It Off Until Tomorrow” and “Fuel to the Flame”) became Top Ten country hits, and still others were recorded by major country names like Kitty Wells and Hank Williams Jr.

Parton was always reverential about the artists who so influenced her at an early age.  “Kitty Wells was the first and only Queen of Country Music, no matter what they call the rest of us now.  She was a great inspiration to me as well as every other female singer in the country music business.  In addition to being a wonderful asset to country music, she was a wonderful woman.”

When Monument Records signed Dolly as a recording artist at age 20, it was initially as a bubblegum pop singer, but when that didn’t pan out, and her country songs achieved notoriety as covered by others, she was given the chance to record “Hello, I’m Dolly,” her debut as a country singer.  It didn’t take long for Wagoner, an established country star with multiple #1 hits to his credit, to offer her a regular spot on his weekly syndicated TV gig “The Porter Wagoner Show,” which, at its peak, was reaching three million viewers in 100 markets.

Dolly with Porter Wagoner in 1970

As she and Wagoner scored big with a dozen collaboration albums during this period, Parton aimed her ambitions higher, persevering in the face of reluctant record company people to record solo albums and establish a name for herself outside of her association with Wagoner.  To his credit, Wagoner supported her efforts, both financially and as a friend.

Dolly was a firm believer in pursuing your dreams. “Find out who you are and do it on purpose. And do it with purpose,” she was famous for saying. “Don’t ever sacrifice who you are, your principles and your morals and your values, to just try to get ahead in business. It ain’t worth it.”

Her hard work paid off.  Between 1970 and 1990, Dolly Parton racked up a staggering total of 40 Top Ten country singles, including an incredible 22 reaching #1. Her track record on the Country Album charts during that same 20-year span was nearly as impressive, registering 16 Top Ten albums. From 1990 onward, she managed to maintain her album chart residency, putting 11 LPs in the Country Top Ten, but her singles no longer made much of a ripple.

Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris and Dolly in 1987

Among her many collaborative efforts through the years was a hugely successful project with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris for an album called “Trio” in 1987, which reached #6 on Pop charts, and sparked an encore, “Trio II,” in 1999. Hearing those three voices harmonizing on tracks like Parton’s “Wildflowers,” Alan O’Bryant’s “Those Memories of You” and especially Neil Young’s “After the Gold Rush” will send shivers up your spine.

In 2000, when asked about the ups and downs of her career, Parton said this: “I’ve been as poor as anyone can be, so I had everything to gain and nothing to lose. So I just kind of work without fear because it’s fun for me. If I fail, it’s no big deal. If something don’t work, I’m not afraid of failure, because to me, I never feel like a loser. Even when I’ve lost, I feel like I’m winning because I’m earning some sort of experience I can use somewhere else. But I have a good attitude. I work hard at being happy. I really enjoy my life. I’m happy because I get to make a living at what I love to do.”

Beginning in the late ’80s, Parton began focusing much of her attention on establishing Dollywood, the amusement theme park in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and the Dollywood Foundation, which supports and raises millions of dollars to help with educational and health-related charities, particularly in her home state of Tennessee.  “I always thought that if I became successful at what I had started out to do, that I wanted to come back to my part of the country and do something great, something that would bring a lot of jobs into this area,” she said.

Particularly notable has been her literacy awareness program, Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, sparked by her devotion to her father, who couldn’t read nor write.  The program seeks to instill a love for books and a yearn to learn how to read at a young age by donating one book every month to each enrolled child.  The Imagination Library currently counts three million children as registered members, and has donated more than 300 million books throughout the US, Canada, the UK and Australia.

“Everywhere I go these days, the kids call me ‘the book lady,’” Parton said.  “The older I get, the more appreciative I am of the ‘book lady’ title.  It makes me feel more like a legitimate person, not just a singer or an entertainer.  It makes me feel like I’ve done something really worthwhile with my life and with my success.”

Indeed. A woman on social media wrote this week, “My seven-year-old daughter heard me say Dolly Parton died, and she got visibly very sad. I said, “Honey, I didn’t know you knew Dolly Parton.” She said, “Well, I didn’t know her, really, but she sent me books.” Wow. Now, that’s a legacy!

Parton and her husband of 52 years, Carl Dean (who died in 2025), never had children.  “I’ve never been fortunate enough to get pregnant, so I just feel God didn’t mean for me to have kids,” she said.  “So I guess I just look at everybody else’s children as mine, and I reach out to help kids in every way I can.”

In recent years, she conceded that people would tease her a bit about her cosmetic surgery, but in her self-effacing way, she always had a ready response: “I don’t think I’ve ever been a natural beauty, so I try to make the best of everything. It takes a lot of money to look this cheap! If I see something sagging, bagging or dragging, I’ll get it nipped, tucked or sucked!”

Her induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame back in 1999 was a foregone conclusion, but many people were scratching their heads when she was selected in 2022 for induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She had occasionally stuck her toe into non-country music waters on startling covers of The Temptations’ “My Girl,” Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right,” The Four Tops “I Can’t Help Myself,” Petula Clark’s “Downtown,” Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train” and Smokey Robinson’s “The Tracks of My Tears,” but even Parton herself felt uncomfortable being lauded by the Rock Hall.

“I didn’t feel like I’d done enough to deserve that,” she said. When the Rock Hall refused her request to rescind the honor, Parton said to herself, “Well, I guess I’m going to have to do a rock album!” She approached a couple dozen rock legends about helping her record some rock classics, and they all enthusiastically jumped at the chance: Elton John, Debbie Harry, Sting, Ann Wilson, John Fogerty, Stevie Nicks, Peter Frampton, Joan Jett, Michael McDonald, Pat Benatar and more can be heard on “Rockstar,” released in 2023 as her final LP, and it reached #3 on the Pop charts, her best showing ever on that listing. Critics called it “monumentally hideous, yet strangely glorious” and wryly described it as “the millennium’s most expensive karaoke party.”

Said McDonald this week: “Few musicians have had their compositions transcend all genre, seen their artistry touch so many hearts worldwide and stayed at the top of their game as a performer for 60-plus years. She was a superstar who somehow managed to live a life of quiet dignity in the midst of it all.”

Sir Paul McCartney, who recorded “Let It Be” with Parton, was moved this week to say, She was so bubbly and full of life. It’s difficult to take in the news that she has passed. Her songwriting, her singing and her philanthropy were unrivaled in the world of country music, and the music world in general. She was a very clever business woman who understood the value of her music and, most importantly, the effect that she had on the people of the world. There was no greater honour for me than to have her sing my song ‘Let It Be.’ Thanks, Dolly. You were the best.

Dolly in 2015

When she was in her 70s, people used to ask Parton, “Why don’t you retire?” Her reply:  “And do what?  What does that even mean?  I always count my blessings more than I count my money.  For me, it’s about the art.  I love the job.  I love to work.”

But her health issues finally caught up with her. She’d struggled years ago with endometriosis, had a hysterectomy in the 1980s and, more recently, had problems with her immune and digestive systems. This month, it was a short bout with cancer that proved to be too much for her.

I’ll leave it to Parton’s longtime friend Reba McEntire to have the last words: “Dolly, thank you for all the wonderful things you did for us here on earth. You gave us your love, your music and so much with your huge, huge heart. There will never ever be another you. We will remember and cherish every memory and every note you ever played and sang. Thank you, Lord, for Dolly. She’s gonna have such a blast in heaven, singing all her favorite songs with her family and friends who have gone on before her.”

R.I.P., Dolly. What a void you’ve left behind.

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The Spotify playlist of 42 songs I’ve assembled reflect my personal preferences from her substantial catalog, arranged chronologically by date of release. If you’ve been a longtime Dolly Parton fan, no doubt you’ll question some of my choices (or, more accurately, the ones I didn’t choose…)

Stoking the starmaker machinery behind the popular song

For more than a decade, I have been writing about the classic rock music of the 1955-1990 era and the musicians who made it.

I’ve never cared all that much about the soap-opera side stories of who sold their back catalog for a zillion dollars, who married/divorced/slept with whom, who got shafted by unscrupulous managers and record companies, or who self-destructed from overdoses or frightfully bad behavior.

For me, it’s all about THE MUSIC. The artistry, the instrumental and vocal performances, the lyrics, the recorded works.

So when just about every media outlet out there published extensive obituaries and tributes recently following the death of record industry honcho Clive Davis on June 22 at age 94, I sighed and thought, Well, just about everyone I’ve ever written about in depth has been a musician, but I guess I’ll have to write something about him for the blog. He was simply too big a figure to ignore.

Along with Ahmet Ertegun at Atlantic and Mo Ostin at Warner Brothers, Davis was considered one of the three major players in the music business (in terms of artist development and representation) throughout the ’60s/’70s/’80s heyday and beyond. These three men, for better or worse, influenced the careers of the vast majority of popular music artists of the rock era.

I’m not naive. I know it takes money, and a lot of it, for an artist’s work to be made, promoted and presented to the public. I’ve just never been interested in the business side of the music industry. It’s the necessary evil, and there is a boatload of evidence to show that far too many of those who handle financial matters in the music business — managers, agents, record company execs — have been notoriously greedy, cutthroat, even cruel in their dealings with the people responsible for making the art.

Davis was not necessarily any of those things. Perhaps he was none of them. But he was first and foremost a businessman, not a musician. He has never written songs nor played an instrument. In his autobiography, he confessed that music meant little to him in his childhood and young adulthood. “I knew nothing about music,” he said in “Clive Davis: The Soundtrack of Our Lives,” the 2017 documentary about his career.

What he did know was how to recognize and sign promising musicians to recording contracts with whatever label he was working for at the time, and promote their work with an eye laser-focused on commercial success.

Some industry observers would say he seemed just as interested in self-promotion and the role he played in the success of the artists he came in contact with. But I must say, it was a revelation to see how many of them came forward to state publicly how much they appreciated him. I’ve read a lot of gushing praise of Davis from legends like Bruce Springsteen, Alan Parsons, Barbra Streisand, Barry Manilow and Carlos Santana, all of whom had effusively complimentary things to say about the man who played a pivotal role at some point in their careers.

Manilow and Davis in the late 1970s

“For fifty years,” said Manilow, “we worked together, created together, argued together, and celebrated together. Yes, some would say it was business. But to Clive, I think it was more than that. It was family. And I was honored to be a part of his. Thank you, Clive. I wish we could do it all again.”

“Over here on E Street,” wrote Springsteen, “we mourn the death of the great record man and close friend Clive Davis. He changed my life in 1972 when he signed me to Columbia Records. He treated me with the same respect and kindness as a 22-year-old nobody as he did after all my success. He was a great man.”

Kenny G, the jazz saxophonist who broke through in 1986 with his “Songbird” hit single on Arista, credits Davis with his mainstream success. “He had an instinct about talent and could see things that others couldn’t,” he said. “And he knew how to connect all the parts — the songs, the artists, the writers, the producers, the performances, the sound — and then he knew what to do with it to have it make an impact on millions of people. Clive Davis changed my life, as he did for so many others.”

Said Streisand last week, “Back in 1970, Clive encouraged me to meet with producer Richard Perry to record an album of songs by contemporary writers like Joni Mitchell, Randy Newman, Laura Nyro and Gordon Lightfoot. The album ‘Stoney End’ opened new doors for me and became one of my most successful. I’m forever grateful for Clive’s vision and support.”

Davis with Streisand in the 1990s

But he has always had his detractors, particularly those artists who felt he meddled in their artistry. Even Springsteen conceded that when Davis first heard the tapes of his debut LP “Greetings From Asbury Park,” his response was “I don’t hear a single.” For Davis, getting a hit on the radio was his all-encompassing goal, and he had little patience for musicians who were adamant about following their muse if he felt it lacked commercial Top 40 appeal.

Melissa Manchester, who worked with Davis at Arista, remembered both good and bad times with him. “I struggled with Clive’s vision for my career sometimes.  He struggled to understand me sometimes.  I’d had great success and withering disappointments with him but, in the end, I was grateful that he believed in my talent in an unwavering way for so long.”

Davis claimed credit for resurrecting the career of Rod Stewart in the 2000s by encouraging him to sing the American Songbook, but Stewart had mixed feelings about the way Davis handled that period. “Clive was involved to the extent of being too involved,” Stewart said. “He would take these songs and change keys and not even bother about whether I could sing in that key or not.” 

Paul Simon recalled numerous disagreements with Davis about which songs should be the singles. In 1973, Simon wanted “American Tune” as the lead single from his “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon” album, while Davis argued for “Kodachrome.” Simon’s choice is the far better song, but Davis felt “Kodachrome” would have wider Top 40 acceptance, and he turned out to be right, which Simon eventually grudgingly admitted. Three years earlier, Davis had told Simon in no uncertain terms that his decision to break up with Art Garfunkel and pursue a solo career was wrongheaded. “He called it ‘career suicide,’ which really stung,” Simon said. “I felt, ‘How does he know what I’ll do on my own? Maybe my best work is still ahead of me.'” (I’d say Simon’s extraordinary solo catalog speaks for itself.)

A man cradles a phone receiver against his shoulder with his legs crossed while he reviews documents on his lap.

Davis entered the music business in the early ’60s as a lawyer, working at a New York firm where Columbia Records (and CBS, its parent company) were clients. At that time Columbia focused on Broadway and film soundtrack albums, but when Davis was named head of A&R there, he saw the nascent commercial path of rock music and began pursuing artists who were among the more adventurous purveyors of it. Based on his early track record, he was pretty good, maybe very good, at identifying creative types who showed potential.

Perhaps most famously, Davis heard Janis Joplin perform with Big Brother and the Holding Company at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. “Joplin was mesmerizing, like a white tornado,” Davis said. “I felt my spine tingle and my arms vibrate. I realized this was going to be the future. I could feel it in my bones.” He persuaded her to join Columbia, and other acts like Blood, Sweat & Tears, Santana and Chicago soon followed. Eventually, he brought Laura Nyro, Johnny Winter, Earth, Wind & Fire, Billy Joel and Neil Diamond into the fold as well.

Davis with Joplin, 1968

To tell Davis’s full story, I would have to delve into the industry ugliness that, as I said before, has nothing to do with the music. Suffice it to say, in 1973, Columbia fired Davis for some allegedly shady stuff for which he was later exonerated, but Davis bounced back a year later by taking over the foundering Bell Records label and renaming it Arista Records.

One of the acts he chose to retain from Bell was Barry Manilow, and he helped steer the singer to his first #1 hit, “Mandy,” also the first chart-topper for Arista. “It was Barry that enabled and opened up the horizon to then sign a Dionne Warwick, to sign the queen of soul, Aretha Franklin, and eventually led to signing Whitney Houston,” Davis said.

His success with Manilow indeed got the ball rolling for the new label, attracting legacy talent and new acts alike. Davis successfully signed an eclectic stew of artists, including mainstream folks like Melissa Manchester, Air Supply, Eric Carmen and Alan Parsons Project, harder rock acts like The Kinks, Lou Reed, Patti Smith and The Grateful Dead, and R&B stars like Franklin and Warwick.

“I can think of no other record man that seemed to have that magical ability to know a hit when he heard a song,” said Warwick. “The entire music industry I’m sure will mourn his passing. He was one of a kind.”

Clearly, Davis was remarkably resilient, a character trait he seemingly developed at a relatively early age when he lost both parents within months of each other when he was just 18. Professional setbacks that he endured which might have devastated other men merely served to further his resolve. “Clive was never willing to give up,” said music industry investor Charles Goldstuck. “No matter how tough or intractable a problem was, he always believed that there was a solution, and he would fight relentlessly to find it and make it happen.”

In the late ’80s and into the ’90s, Davis was instrumental in Arista entering joint ventures with several hip-hop labels like LaFace Records and Puff Daddy’s Bad Boy Records, and he became a big promoter of acts like Usher, TLC, Outkast and Toni Braxton. Then in 2000, he founded J Records, launching Alicia Keys’s career, among others. In the mid-2000s, Davis scored hits with Keys, Eddie Vedder, and Usher, and he partnered with “American Idol” to release albums from its winners, including Carrie Underwood and Kelly Clarkson.

Davis with Houston in 2005

When asked what his crowning achievement was, Davis mentioned two. First was the signing, molding and championing of diva Whitney “The Voice” Houston, one of the most honored artists of all time, who sold more than 200 million records in her 30-year career before her tragic death in 2012 at age 48. Said Davis about her: “She had a voice, an innocence, a power and a beauty that was so stunning. In my view, she was the greatest contemporary singer of all time.”

The second was the role he played in the rejuvenation of Carlos Santana’s career with 1999’s “Supernatural” LP, a multiplatinum seller with multiple collaborators (notably Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20 on “Smooth,” a superb single that sat at #1 for nearly three months that year). The album won nine Grammys, displacing Michel Jackson’s “Thriller” as the most honored album ever.

Said the guitarist last week, “Clive was a visionary. He could hear the intangible before anyone else could see it. He believed in Santana from the beginning, and years later he believed in us again. He understood that music is more than entertainment; it’s a healing force, and he dedicated his life to championing artists and helping them share their gifts with the world. Because of his vision, countless musicians were able to reach hearts across the planet. I’m forever grateful.”

Santana and Davis with their “Supernatural” Grammy haul in 2000

The most visible sign of Davis’s prominence in the industry all these years — in addition to the fact that he was usually referred to by his first name alone — was the annual gala event he hosted every year on the eve of the Grammy Awards. It was classic Davis glitz and glamour all the way, with a virtual Who’s Who of major music people on both the artistic and business sides, plus movie celebrities and national politicians. His friends say it was Davis’s way of paying back an industry that had been (mostly) extremely good to him. His enemies would counter that it was an annual opportunity to remind the world that Clive Davis was “and still is” the most important man in the business. Indeed, the 2026 party in February was yet another in a decades-long tradition, even though Davis’s age limited his usual place in the limelight as MC.

Rest in peace, Clive. You lived about as full a life as anyone ever has in the music business.

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