Bad news about Burt Bacharach last week. I feel pretty bad for him. He's always seemed like a genuinely decent guy.

A few years ago, on a Sunday afternoon, I was flipping channels and came across "Burt Bacharach Tribute on Ice."

It led to one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make.

There are few things in life I abhor more than "ice dancing". And few I love more than the music of Burt Bacharach. I couldn't bear to watch it, but I couldn't bear to look away. Kind of like a rollover accident on the highway.

True to form, the music was wonderful. And while there were people gliding aroud on the ice, there was certainly no "dancing." Certainly there was no thought given to adapting canned routines to actually sync with the music.

I saw Bacharach perform with Elvis Costello a few years back. The collaborative material was workman-like. Not terribly interesting musically or lyrically. But then both Elvis and Burt performed a set of their own repertoire. Again, Elvis' was pretty sketchy. For the last 15 years, he's tried to sing so hard it hurts. A friend of mine once said, "If it hurts to sing the note, then it hurts to hear it."

Elvis needs friends like that.


"Nikki"

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