Barry Manilow – I Write The Songs

The Song He Didn’t Want To Sing About Not Writing

Barry Manilow released “I Write The Songs” on October 27, 1975, as the lead single from his album Tryin’ to Get the Feeling, and he hated the idea from day one. Clive Davis, president of Arista Records, had heard David Cassidy’s UK version and insisted Manilow record it. Manilow told Davis he wouldn’t do it, explaining that listeners would think he was singing about himself and assume he was a monumental egomaniac. The track hit number one on the Billboard Hot 100 on January 17, 1976, after spending two weeks atop the Adult Contemporary chart in December 1975. The song spent 20 weeks on the Hot 100 and won the Grammy for Song of the Year in 1977, becoming Billboard’s 13th biggest hit of 1976. Davis had been right, and Manilow’s worst nightmare about being introduced as the man who writes the songs came true at nearly every television appearance for decades.
The chart performance proved Davis understood commercial potential better than Manilow understood audience perception. David Cassidy’s version had reached number 11 in the UK in August 1975, demonstrating the song’s appeal before Manilow touched it. Captain & Tennille recorded it first on their 1975 album Love Will Keep Us Together, working with songwriter Bruce Johnston from their Beach Boys days. But Manilow’s arrangement dominated, changing keys three times, employing a massive orchestra, layering background vocals, and ending with the highest note he’d ever sung on record. Producer Ron Dante and Manilow used every commercial trick available, creating what Manilow later called work that made him swell with pride. The irony stung: his second number one after “Mandy” came from a song he’d fought against recording about writing songs he actually wrote.
Bruce Johnston composed “I Write The Songs” while driving on the San Diego Freeway in Los Angeles during his 1972 hiatus from the Beach Boys. He rushed home to develop verses and a bridge, later explaining he’d written about where music comes from. For Johnston, the narrator was God, not himself and definitely not Beach Boys bandmate Brian Wilson, despite persistent rumors. Johnston told interviewers the song celebrated music as the universal creative force residing in everyone’s soul, making young girls cry and giving people spirit to take chances. That spiritual interpretation flew over most listeners’ heads when Manilow sang it. TV hosts introduced him as the man who writes the songs, audiences assumed the title was literal, and Manilow spent years wanting to explain to everyone within earshot that he wasn’t singing about himself.
Recording sessions for Tryin’ to Get the Feeling paired Manilow with producer Ron Dante, who’d been lead singer of the Archies and understood manufactured pop perfection. Davis had convinced Manilow by calling him foolish and childish for refusing to record a potential number one hit. Davis reminded him that number ones didn’t come easily and that Manilow was a terrific arranger and producer capable of transforming good material into great records. Manilow walked out of the office still committed to refusing, then reconsidered the professional ramifications. He’d vowed after “Mandy” that he wouldn’t record outside songs again, preferring to promote his own compositions like “It’s A Miracle” and “Could It Be Magic.” But Davis kept finding hits written by others, and Manilow kept discovering he didn’t mind covering them as much as he’d thought.
The album Tryin’ to Get the Feeling established Manilow’s pattern of balancing original material with carefully chosen covers. The title track came from David Pomeranz, while “I Write The Songs” became the breakout single despite being buried deeper in the tracklist. Most of Manilow’s subsequent Adult Contemporary hits followed the same formula: sophisticated arrangements of other writers’ material performed with emotional authenticity that connected with audiences tired of rock excess. The follow-up album This One’s For You in 1976 even included a response song Manilow wrote called “I Really Do Write The Songs,” though it didn’t make the original tracklist and only appeared as a bonus track on the 2006 reissue. That defensive joke captured his complicated relationship with the hit that defined him against his will.
The song’s influence extended beyond Manilow’s discomfort. Bruce Johnston won his first Grammy for Song of the Year while the Beach Boys as a group never won one until Brian Wilson finally received Best Rock Instrumental Performance in 2005 for a different composition. Johnston recorded his own version for his 1977 album Going Public, though by then Manilow owned the song in public consciousness. Frank Sinatra recorded it as “I Sing The Songs,” changing the title to avoid the writing confusion that plagued Manilow. Big Daddy, a doo-wop revival band, took their version to number 21 on the UK charts in 1985 as part of a four-track EP. Over 200 artists eventually recorded the song, but none suffered Manilow’s particular curse of being permanently associated with claiming credit for something he didn’t do.
Davis told Manilow the song would hit number one in two months, and it did. Manilow later admitted that whenever he heard it in public, he felt compelled to run to everyone listening and clarify he wasn’t singing about himself. That impulse never faded. The production showcased his arranging genius, the vocals demonstrated his technical command, and the chart performance validated Davis’s commercial instincts. But “I Write The Songs” remained the hit Manilow never wanted, the one that made him a superstar while forcing him to explain for five decades that music, not Barry Manilow, writes the songs. Johnston’s spiritual meditation about creativity became Manilow’s cross to bear, proof that sometimes the songs you resist become the ones that define you whether you like it or not.