The Somewhat Singular Tale Of...BILLY VERA

The Somewhat Singular Tale Of...BILLY VERA

John Kordosh

So there we sat in his living room in Hollywood on a nice sunny day, me and Billy Vera. Not much going on. Oh, I was drinking a Diet Pepsi and looking out the window at that new Honda I bought. Nice car. Billy had the #1 song in the country. He doesn’t have much furniture in his place, just a couch and a chair and a decades-old record player in the living room.

Nope, not much going on at all.

Five years ago there was plenty going on: his second album for Alfa Records had been released. A single—“At This Moment’’ (from his first Alfa album)—had also been released, and it had charted.

In fact, it had peaked at #79 in Billboard. Not too bad.

Now, the same song—the same, exact song, no remake or even remix—was sitting at #1. And Billy Vera was 42 years old. And Billy Vera didn’t even have a record contract. So that’s it: me and this 42-year-old guy—who’s the first guy in history to have the #1 song in America and no record deal all at the same time— were sitting in his living room on a nice sunny day.

Face it: the guy needs more furniture.

“It’s important, chronologically, to know what happened,’’ Billy Vera explains. Indeed it is. Vera had been playing the club circuit in L.A. since moving there in 1979. His band—Billy Vera & The Beaters—was doing pretty well, too, as far as these gigs go. They had a regular audience, and Billy was still getting checks for some of his earlier work dating back to the early ’60s. (He cut some stuff for Atlantic, charted with two duet singles with Judy Clay that you probably don’t remember, wrote “Mean Old World,” which charted for Ricky Nelson, and “I Really Got The Feeling,” which Dolly Parton took to #1 on the country charts, Then Billy left Westchester County in New York—where he was, in his nwords, “something of a legend”—anfi moved to LA., signing on as a staff writer for Warner Bros.) All in all, life wasn’t exactly kicking Billy Vera in the teeth.

But then me decided to whisper hard Somethings into his ear.

What happened was this fellow— Michael Weithorn who, at the time, was a supervisor and producer for NBC’s Family Ties—meandered into a club in Santa Monica. Billy Vera & The Beaters were playing; it was a Friday night, a gig night. Weithorn was looking for a good song—make that a good song he could get cheap—to use as the love theme for Alex and Ellen, who certainly needed one, seeing how they were all ready to fall in love. At which point Billy Vera sat at the piano and played “At This Moment,” and Jerry Weithorn thought to himself, “That’s the song.”

And it was. Family Ties aired, and NBC was besieged with phone calls.

“I got a bag of mail from NBC,” Vera recalls. “ ‘Who’s the singer?’ ‘What’s the name of the song?’ ‘Where can we buy it?’ At first I was flattered—I felt good about my song. And then I got mad because I had no record out to sell. So I went to a couple of labels—big labels— and I couldn’t get a record deal to save my ass. I had no manager, nothin’, I was running the band myself. It had been five years since the record was out, so the rerecording restriction in my (Alfa) contract was null and void. So I could’ve recorded it as a new record for somebody, which is what I wanted to do. I figured, put out a single, maybe it’ll get a little airplay, maybe I’ll make an album. Nobody was interested.

“So then I said, ‘Fuck, what am I gonna do?’ I got mad. I said, ‘Ah! I know Richard Foos at Rhino Records ... lemme call him up and see if I can convince him to put out a reissue of my old version.’ I did a good tap dance—I said: ‘Look, the worst that can happen is Billy Vera’s local fans will buy it and, in a year or two, you’ll break even. That’s the worst. The best is that maybe there’ll be a little action off this television show if you get it out in time for ime reruns.’ ”

Meanwhile, Alfa—which is a Japanese label long since gone from these shores—didn’t know what was going on and probably raised their eyebrows, in an inscrutable fashion, when Rhino called to inquire about the masters.

“They’re just happy to get some of their investment back,” Vera continues. “I’m into them for a half a million dollars, so I they’re happy to get anything. Rhino gives them a couple of thousand dollars and some tiny percentage and they’re happy to make a couple of bucks. They figure anything’s better than to have this stuff sitting on the shelf.”

And so the album—By Request: The Best Of Billy Vera & The Beaters, a compilation of the two Alfa discs—came out. Only it came out too late—or so it seemed.

“The reissue business runs at a much more leisurely pace than the Top 40 business,” Vera says. “So by the time they finally got the album out, we’d—Rhino— missed the reruns. It’s selling slowly. Then—lo and behold—the new TV season comes on and Family Ties plays the song again, when Alex and the girl broke up. I didn’t know—I went out to see the Everly Brothers that night—and when I came home, there were 25 phone calls on my machine: ‘They used your song again, they used your song again.’ ”

Yes, it was Mike Fox to the rescue in grand style. This time around, NBC got hit with over 9,000 calls, as the heavens opened and the sun blazed on Billy Vera and Rhino Records.

“The guy coming in the club was luck,” Billy reflects. “Me coming up with the brainstorm to go to Rhino—and convincing them—was persistance, and I take all the credit for that. This next shot was blind luck. Nobody can take any credit for that, least of all me. And this time, when NBC gets all the phone calls, they send form letters to everybody: This is the artist, this is the title, this is the label.’ People started calling up their local radio stations all over the country—stations Rhino hadn’t even serviced. To Rhino’s credit, they smelled a hit—they hired some people and they learned the Top 40 business. Real quick.”

I’ll say.

“Are you getting rich off all this?” I wonder, as is my way.

“No,” Billy replies. “My deal was with Alfa and I’m into them for about a half a million dollars. So the royalty rate I’m recouping at is maybe half what the original royalty rate was. Which means that I’m not getting anything because—at the rate I’m recouping—it would have to sell quadruple platinum before I’d see a nickel.”

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 39

Well, quadruple platinum may be a bit much, but somebody’s sure as heck buying the album. Even as I write this, it rests at #16 (with a bullet) on the oi’ Billboard

chart. The single seems to be descending, but that darned album just keeps on selling.

"I should’ve negotiated with Rhino,” he continues. “I should’ve said: ‘Look, I’m doing something for you—if you make some money, put me down for a couple of points as a finder’s fee, as a token of goodwill. I didn’t do that. I’m into Warner Bros., my publisher—’cause when I moved out here, they were advancing me money—I think I’m down to about $48,000 that I owe them. I’ll be in the black at Warner’s by the time the record’s over.”

(Not that we were actually playing the record at that particular moment—he meant when people stopped buying the Rhino disc.)

Well, it’s a strange story, that’s for sure. But don’t feel too bad for Billy. For one thing, as the songwriter he’ll "get a ton of ASCAP money,” as he put it—and that’s a lot of money. Two thousand pounds, to be exact. For another thing, he’s been signed to a major label. Even as we sat there that nice sunny afternoon, his lawyer was putting the finishing touches on his deal with Capitol, who distributed By Request and probably know what they’re doing.

And even if he’s a long-distance one-hit wonder, he can always pick up some money acting. Bill’s done his share of it, including TV parts on Alice and the wonderful Knot’s Landing and a movie role in Buckaroo Banzai. Done some work in plays, too. Hell, the man’s a veritable Don Johnson, although I don’t think Billy Vera’s hung out with Lou Reed of Long island.

I suppose there is a question about his age—I mean, the guy’s 42 years old. Old enough to be my ... uh, older brother. Old enough to ... no, I guess he’s not old enough to be in the Stones, but they’ve broken up anyway. In any case, I did feel compelled to ask Bill, on your behalf, if he thought he was getting too old to do this thing.

“If you’d asked me that 20 years ago, the answer would’ve been yes. When I started out, rock ’n’ roll was a young man’s game. It seems like the public is more receptive to old fucks like me; I feel real fortunate that I’m 42 years old now. I’m 42 years old at a time it’s OK to be 42 years old—and I’ve been creative all these years. I’m lucky I didn’t have a huge hit when I was 22. A lot of my contemporaries who had hits when they were 18 or 20 are playing oldies shows now, ’cause they’re stuck in that image of who they were then.”

Not so for Billy Vera, soon to be on Capitol records and tapes. With any luck he’ll do well and wipe out that Alfa debt and make many, many tons of money.

At which point he will—hopefully—invest in some furniture.