Who Did It Better? I Don't Know How To Love Him

Who Did It Better? 

I Don't Know How To Love Him

This song seeped into the public's consciousness back in 1970, as part of the Jesus Christ Superstar concept album by a then relatively unknown Andrew Lloyd Webber and his partner in crime, Tim Rice. This was a studio project that would later be adapted for the stage and a movie. A very British recording, it instantly took off stateside. This was because at the time Jesus Freaks were a huge thing; they were sort of religious hippies, if you will. 

Those involved in the movement were convinced that Jesus was the original hippy and that we should all live by his example. It was all very vanilla-Xtian gooble-gobble speak and the Catholic Church, surprisingly, got right on board.  

I remember singing this song on a regular basis as part of mass with the youth choir. My Mom even bought the album and it was the soundtrack for many a Saturday as we cleaned house. 

In the show, the song is sung by Mary Magdalene, who is comforting an emotionally wrought and physically exhausted Jesus. Funny thing is, the song's original singer, Yvonne Elliman, thought she was hired to play Mary, as in, Jesus's mother. So the seductive, sensual nature of the song puzzled her quite a bit, but she went with it. Recorded in one take in June of 1970, it is considered one of the emotional cornerstones of this particular 'rock opera'.  

Yvonne Elliman, at that point, was primarily known for being Eric Clapton's backup singer. The song and subsequent show would help launch her solo career. 

As far as singles go, Andrew and Tim decided to go with Murray Head's bombastic Superstar first. However, once they got wind that a relatively-unknown singer named Helen Reddy had recorded a version which was winding it's way up the charts in the spring of 1971, Decca/MCA rush released Elliman's version. Reddy's version would peak at #13 on the Billboard's Hot 100, while Elliman's rose as high as #28. It would mark the beginning of both women's recording careers in the states.  

As you listen to Reddy's version, keep in mind what was going on in her life at the time. Her husband, Jeff Wald had very slowly become the successful manager of Deep Purple and Tiny Tim. During his climb, Helen had supported the duo and daughter Traci. But in light of his new success, she'd had it and had given him an ultimatum - either he put more effort into advancing her career, or they were over. 

Wald began calling Capitol records, several times a day, trying to drum up interest in Reddy. He became something of a nuisance and they told him that if promised to stop calling, they would allow Reddy to record a single. The A-side was to be the Mac Davis favorite I Believe in Music, with I Don't Know How To Love Him relegated to the B-side. The A-side flopped, but DJs in Canada began flipping the single over and playing I Don't Know How To Love Him. It caught on and by June of 1971, was a hit in the states, as well.

In the UK, early in 1972, Decca issued a double-sided single featuring Head's Superstar and Elliman's I Don't Know How to Love Him in response to a version of the song released by Petula Clark. However, neither version met with much success, both peaking at #47 on the British charts.  

Incidentally, it should be noted that the song was originally published as Kansas City, back in the fall of 1967. Given new lyrics, the song became part of Webber and Rice's 'rock opera'. 

Well, those are the facts... so, let's get to it.

The Song: I Don't Know How To Love Him

The Competitors: Yvonne Elliman vs. Helen Reddy vs. Petula Clark

I Don't Know How To Love Him - Yvonne Elliman

I Don't Know How To Love Him  - Helen Reddy

I Don't Know How To Love Him - Petula Clark

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Yvonne Elliman:

There's something 'hooded' about Elliman's vocals, but it works well here. I also love the ache she brings to the song. It's a very straight-forward reading, a bit strident at times. Her vocals are incredibly strong and clear, however, her tendency to lean heavily into the vowel sounds, scooping, actually, strikes me as odd on occasion. But she is a vocalist of the times. With the exception of the scooping, this is how vocalists were taught to sing. 

The arrangement certain doesn't get in the way during the first two verses. Even the deep percussion added during the first build remains subdued. This is truly about Elliman's vocals and she brings a lot of power to the bridge, the slight breaks in her voice revealing an emotional authenticity. By the third verse, she alters the tone of the song. A kind of anger seeps in. She's dismissive, anguished. It inadvertently reveals a lovely lift in her upper range. 

The strings swell up and consume the second build with Elliman reentering the mix at its emotional pinnacle with a despairing cry. It's a wonderful musical moment, theatrical and artfully done. Well done.

Helen Reddy:

This is so unlike Reddy. She enters with a whisper. It feels a tiny bit rushed, but surprisingly intimate. I do like the simple piano accompaniment; she sounds great with it. She doesn't become strident until the second verse. Some of her trademark vocal tics begin to appear and by the first build as her signature clipped vocals take over. The dismissive lilt she brings to the third verse is almost snide, but works well. Listen to her tiny trill during 'calm' and 'cool'. It's as lovely as it is rare. 

Sadly, the song's arrangement fails us once we hit the second bridge. In comparison to the grandiosity of Elliman's version, it sounds rather silly. What is that instrument? Flute/clarinet, flitting in and out beneath? Makes me cringe. Like a lace doily on a Knoll Wassily chair. Very TV Movie of the Week. 

The build hits its release with Helen bringing emotionally appropriate vocals, however they  get swamped by the mix. Too bad they didn't pull all accompaniment at that exact moment, allowing Helen's voice to carry the day. It would have been extremely dramatic, naked... and righted the ship in the process. (Does Reddy's over enunciation of the 't' at the end of 'about' bug anyone else?) The addition of backing vocals... ugh. Not needed. Thankfully, they are short-lived. But that clarinet thing returns and the way she flits the 'ur' sound on 'turn' bugs me. I am glad her vocals are the focal point again, but then those backing vocals return.. ugh. Not needed. 

Reddy's vocals have their moments, but the instrumentation has not aged well, and the arrangement somewhat ruins the whole thing.

Petula Clark:

Okay, Petula's version is very, very different. The lady spent some money and got herself an old-school arrangement. I could do without the Superstar opening, but it is rather cool the way her vocals move up to the surface and meld into the actual song. There's a lovely tone to her voice. Pure. Clean. However, she also keeps pulling her sound; it feels clipped and coy. Hers is a performance piece, not an emotional reading. She might as well be singing 'Alfie', which I suspect is what they had in mind here, for nothing about this arrangement or reading speaks to the times. Clark seems stuck in 1968 variety show mode. 

The orchestra and backup singers enter the mix far too early in the song and much too forcefully. Plus, she dares to mess with the timing on the build... and loses miserably. Aside: this is an absolute NO; songwriters hate this sort of thing - it rarely works and it certainly does not here!  I am rather done with the whole recording by the mid-point. I can't imagine what other horrible things they could do to it. Let's trudge on through...

It becomes very theatrical with the delayed "what's it all about". I do hope she listened to this recording, fired everybody and got new management. This could have been a turning point in her career... had she simply sang the song. Instead, she's overburdened herself with mawkish orchestration and an overly complicated reading. "I-aye-aye ye-am the one." Oh, dear. don't make me write more. "Running every show...", is she suddenly a German chanteuse? What is that? Then Superstar returns and she goes into rock(?) mode? I dunno. This is some mighty fine corn they got growing in that there Britain place. Mmm hmmm.

I... I am aghast. Clark has a lovely voice and some fine chops. But this... is an absolute train wreck. Is it funny in a campy way? I would have to listen to it again to determine that... and that? That is not happening, folks.

The Verdict:

This belongs to Elliman. I enjoy the simplicity and straight-forwardness of her version. When the strings take over, it's appropriate, theatrical and thrilling. I find her performance to be unencumbered, fresh and authentic. Maybe doing it all on the first take is the way to go? 

I do like Reddy's version. It reveals a softness to her that I find appealing. But she's done in, as is Clark, by a wrong-minded arrangement. Clark... poor, dear. Hers is a most tortured reading. It's a testament to her talent that she somehow keeps the thing on the tracks.  

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Your turn. 

What did you think? Hear? 

Let me know in the comments section. I love to hear the perspectives of others, especially since I know that many of you are avid music lovers. Tell me what you think. What you feel!

That's it for this week. We are rapidly running out of possible candidates for this series. I've got about four or five left. 

If you know of a song with competing versions, please leave your suggestions in the comments section. Or, we may adapt the series to include cover versions...? I dunno. Let me know what you think.

Thanks for reading.