Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

Hey, I’m back! Sort of. Just to set things straight: Gimmicky posts about insanity and snark aside, I really have been quite exhausted over the past few months, and for the last two weeks I have been unable to come up with the weekly 500 words about Mr. Foster that you’ve grown accustomed to. You see, on top of everything else, I’m experiencing a writer’s block. I’ve never encountered anything like it in my entire life, and it’s frustrating beyond belief. I literally have to fight for every single word, no matter how trivial it may seem. My words have dried out, my Twitter account is a desert and I can’t even come up with anything sensible for my Facebook status line anymore. Thank God I’m doing this stuff pro bono. Ah well, life imitates art as they say. Or is it the other way around? Is this what Jeff had in mind?

Anyway, I’ve been blunt about my current health status, so I might as well be blunt about the music. Here we go: David Foster composed the score for this movie in 1988, and I have to admit that I love the Stealing Home soundtrack. I love the sentimentality of it, I love that it’s overloaded with strings and sweet synth sounds and I love the silly love lyrics penned by Foster’s wife for the love theme. I’ve kissed a thousand beautiful women listening to these tunes throughout my youth — well, in my dreams, anyway.

I honestly don’t know where the unabashed love for this kind of kitsch came from, but it’s there and it’s always been there. It’s like a genetic thing, no matter how much I’ve gotten into hard bop and rock and roll in recent years, whenever I’m spinning Stealing Home I’m right back to the acne-infected sentimental sap that used to greet me in the mirror over 20 years ago. I have to face it — I’m a 37-year old guy who likes music that would embarrass 11-year-old girls for its sentimentality.

“And When She Danced (Love Theme from Stealing Home),” by David Foster and Marilyn Martin. From Stealing Home, 1988.
“Stealing Home (Reprise),” by David Foster. From Stealing Home, 1988.

To prove it, here are two selections from the Stealing Home soundtrack, a vocal track and a montage. On the vocal track David Foster sings a duet with Marilyn Martin, the lady who also did a duet with Phil Collins on Stephen Bishop’s “Separate Lives” for the White Nights soundtrack a couple of years earlier. And what a team on background vocals: Jason Scheff, Donny Osmond and Tim Feehan. The only missing link here is Jack Wagner. And you’ve got to love the backup band, it’s so 1980s:

Keyboards: David Foster
Fairlight drums and programming: Rhett Lawrence
Additional synthesizer programming: Rick Bowan, Michael Boddicker, David Foster, Bob Parr
Additional drum overdubs: Dave Reitzas
Guitars: Dean Parks, Michael Landau
Sax: Dave Boruff

So you have six guys on synth, two guitarists and a sax guy. Classic line-up — what a band. They probably looked a bit like this (inserting silly, pointless Photoshop montage to cut the post short. I hope to see you next week, and if I don’t, you know why):

The movie? I don’t remember.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

“All By Myself” – Celine Dion. Produced by David Foster. Written by Eric Carmen.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

Have I used that header before? I probably have. Well, it’s true. Before we delve into the specifics of the three songs I lined out in my entry two weeks ago (heh…), I’m presenting my Quite Comprehensive Guide of David Foster Productions, previously published, but never actually read by anyone, on my very own website a couple of years ago. It’s too bad to let all this work go to waste, so, my dear hordes, here it is in all its glory. Enjoy it if you can:

David Foster has been my musical hero for 25 years. It’s been a turbulent relationship, I’ll admit that much, but in one way or another he’s always been an important influence on my musical taste and on my own development as a musician. I’m self-taught on the piano, and for all practical reasons I’m like a Casio-Foster-preset on the keys.

My relationship with Foster has waggered to and fro, from blind worship and pure fandom through frustrations and disappointments to rediscoveries of pure delight and restored faith, only to be disappointed all over again.

Today I’ve come to terms with the fact that me and Foster have gone separate ways musically, and that we’ll probably never meet on the same note again.

But there was a time when David Foster was a different man; a young, hungry and immensely talented musician who turned to producing other artists by the time he was 25. He had the chops and he used them. He was energetic, had great rhythm and last but not least, he showed an early talent for those romantic ballads. And that’s the kind of Foster I still love.

David Foster has produced hundreds, if not thousands of songs. Here’s a chronological selection from that body of work with a few comments, mainly focused on those projects where he produced an entire album, or at least vital parts of it. Hope you enjoy the overview.

Bruce Miller – Rude Awakening (1975)
Was this the first album he ever produced? According to my sources, it is, but I don’t really know that much about it. Among the players are Lee Sklar, Rusty Young, Keith Olsen, Jim Keltner, Tom Scott and Airto. Produced by Gaye DeLorme and David Foster. Recorded at Sound City Studios, California. It was released on A&M (SP 9018).

Attitudes – Attitudes (1976)
He produced this one as a band member. Attitudes released a couple of albums in 1976-77, and had a minor hit with a song called “Sweet Summer Music.”

Jaye P. Morgan – Jaye P. Morgan (1976)
A couple of very groovy tracks on this one, actually, among them “Can’t Hide Love,” originally by Earth, Wind & Fire. It was produced by Foster and Jay Graydon – good buddies at the time it seems. I’ve read somewhere that Morgan is more famous (or is it infamous?) in the US for her part as judge on The Gong Show in the ’70s. She also had a long musical career preceding this album – and this was clearly an attempt for her to break into the contemporary market. The album was released on CD in Japan a few years ago and if you’re lucky, you can still come across it on Amazon. The original didn’t have much impact when it was released back in ‘76.

Danny Peck – Heart and Soul (1977)
Keane Brothers – Keane Brothers (1977)

Lisa DalBello – Lisa DalBello (1977)
Pretty much standard ’70s R&B here without much distinction. There are a few Fosterisms, but overall this is one of the rare anonymous Foster productions.

Alice Cooper – From the Inside (1978)
Hall and Oates – Along the Red Ledge (1978)

Bill Champlin – Single (1978)
This is one of my favorite David Foster productions, and the first real standout. It’s so crisp and inspired, and although it’s a big, rich production it never goes over the top, like the follow-up, Runaway, did to some extent. It’s also more R&B inspired than anything else that the two ever did together.

Airplay – Airplay (1980)
David Foster and Jay Graydon’s one-off band-project from 1980. They brought along vocalist Tommy Funderburk for the ride. I don’t know what inspired this band project – maybe it was the tremendous success of other bands consisting of session musicians, like Toto?

Anyhow, it seems neither the record company or the musicians put much effort into the marketing of this album, so nothing much happened until years later. This album has become a “classic” in the Westcoast-genre, and is currently quite popular in Japan and Europe.

The album is a very intense listening experience. A lot of things are happening at the same time – and I guess it’s as overproduced as overproducing gets. Plenty of keyboards, lots of overdubbing on guitars and rich high-pitched vocal harmonies all over the place. It’s fun to listen to, has a lot of energy and it’s really just a big old playground for the musicians.

It features a version of “After the Love Has Gone,” which of course was a huge hit for Earth Wind & Fire and a Grammy winner for best song in 1979, and also another version of “Nothin’ You Can Do About It,” which The Manhattan Transfer did gloriously for their 1979 album Extensions. I’m particularly soft for the ballad “Should We Carry On” and “Cryin’ All Night” – oh, and the groovy “Bix.”

Hall and Oates – X-Static (1980)
Average White Band – Shine (1980)
Peter Allen – Bi-Coastal (1980)
Ray Kennedy – Ray Kennedy (1980)
Bill Champlin – Runaway (1981)

The Tubes – The Completion Backwards Principle (1981)
According to one source, Bill Spooner, guitarist of flamboyant art-rock band the Tubes, sat down and listened to a lot of stuff on the charts at the time, and based on his impressions from that experience he wrote many of these songs. True or false, TCBP was easily the band’s most accessible and poppy record when it was released in 1981, and it also contained their first hit record, the very un-Tubes-like (but very Fosteresque) ballad “Don’t Want to Wait Anymore,” which more than anything sounds like the blueprint for almost every ballad Foster ever did with Chicago in the 1980s.

Chicago – Chicago 16 (1982)
Chicago 16 was Foster’s major breakthrough as a record producer. Robert Lamm says that he “firmly believe that without David Foster at that time the band probably would have ceased to exist, at least as a mainstream band.” There’s a lot of information about Foster and Chicago on the internet. Take the tour.

Dreamgirls (Broadway Cast Album) (1982)
Dara Sedaka – I’m Your Girlfriend (1982)

David Foster – The Best of Me (1983)
The rumor says that when The Tubes heard this solo album debut from Foster, they let him go as their producer based on the merits of this album alone and moved on to Todd Rundgren. I wonder if it wasn’t actually Foster himself who told that story. There’s certainly a Clayderman quality to it – it’s easy listening for sure. But it has a lot of good tunes that Foster used for other projects, notably “Whatever We Imagine” (James Ingram), “Chaka” (Chaka Khan’s “Through the Fire”), “Love, Look What You’ve Done to Me” (Boz Scaggs), “Love at Second Sight” (Dionne Warwick) and the first recording of “The Best of Me,” which has been covered by numerous artists.

The Tubes – Outside/Inside (1983)
Contains The Tubes’ biggest hit, “She’s A Beauty.” It’s a classic, big ’80s Foster production but with a lot more zaniness and humor to it. It’s certainly a mixed bag, but a fun record.

Chicago – Chicago 17 (1984)
Fee Waybill – Read My Lips (1984)
Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton – Once Upon a Christmas (1984)

St. Elmo’s Fire Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1985)
Aside from The Bodyguard, this is Foster’s most well-known soundtrack. It contains the 1980s anthem “Man in Motion” with very-few-and-minor-hits-wonder John Parr, and if memory serves correctly, Foster’s “Love Theme” also hit the charts at some point in 1985 – one of very few instrumental songs in pop history to do so. To me it’s a classic, to most others it’s an obscure synthesized artifact from the 1980s, I’m sure. I’m completely biased on this one and on his solo album from ’86, so I rest my case.

Paul Hyde and the Payolas – Here’s the World for Ya (1985)
Chicago – Chicago 18 (1986)

David Foster – David Foster (1986)
David Foster was apparently not too excited about the way this solo record turned out in the end. It’s a bit funny, because this production embodies just about everything that was particular to his production work at that time: orchestral keyboard arrangements, Moogsynth bass lines, French horn emulation, arpeggio synth cellos and the MIDI Grand Piano at the center. And it’s almost all him.

I’ve listened to this album so many times since 1986 that it’s impossible for me to judge it objectively, but I guess I could see the point if somebody labeled this a mid-’80s synthfest with its heavy reverb and dated synth sounds. To me, the album’s like an instrumental extension of the St. Elmo’s Fire soundtrack. It has exactly the same sound. Closes with a beautiful 3-minute piano solo, Sajé, written for his daughters.

The Secret of My Success Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1987)
Stealing Home Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1988)
Neil Diamond – The Best Years of Our Lives (1988)
Seiko Matsuda – Citron (1988)

David Foster – The Symphony Sessions (1988)
A bold move, indeed. Foster said at the time that he was tired of always having to write music with radio formatting and hit potential in mind, so for this project he decided to let his mind flow freely, and to create an album of songs free from convention or pre-formatting. He was slain by the critics, naturally. In a sense it’s an album full of clichés and pastiches, but then again I’ve never heard anything quite like it – so I can’t really pigeonhole this album. I have no desire to do so either, ’cause I like it just fine as it is. It has some beautiful themes and lovely arrangements, and I quite like to listen to it. It’s kind of like a soundtrack album, but not really… There are pop elements, classical elements, some new age elements… you should just listen to it, and make up your own mind, really.

Celine Dion – Unison (1990)
Looking back, the last couple of years up until this point hadn’t been that great for Foster. No major hits, and work seemed to slow down a bit, for whatever reason. All that would change in the 1990s, and Celine Dion had much to do with it. It was the decade of the divas, and Foster produced ‘em all.

High-pitched rock vocalists, yuppie cowboys and Yamaha synths from the 1980s went down the drain as grunge and hip-hop came along, and Foster needed a new arena. Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Barbra Streisand and Natalie Cole became Foster’s new trademark. The diva producer, the singer’s producer. But Unison was not a particularly auspicious start. It’s boring pop-rock lacking the star quality apparent in Dion’s later releases.

David Foster – River of Love (1990)
I never knew quite what to make of this album. It’s a solo album, but Foster seems to have very little to do with it, really. I was disappointed when it was released in 1990. “River of Love” is a dreary sing-a-longy thing, a charity song in search of a cause. There’s a pointless cover of John Farnham’s “You’re the Voice,” a Christmas song by Natalie Cole… It’s not a very consistent album. A few good performances by Warren Wiebe, and I quite like the Brian Wilson-collaboration “Is There A Chance.” I like his easy listening albums better, I think.

David Foster – Rechordings / Play It Again (1991)
Boring stuff, Foster! Instrumental renditions of some of his best-selling songs. Uninspired and unnecessary, Foster at his most Claydermanesque.

Natalie Cole – Unforgettable (With Love) (1991)
This marks a new phase for David Foster. He produced 8 of 22 songs here, among them the technically innovative (at the time) duet between Natalie and her long-deceased dad Nat King Cole, Unforgettable. Cole and Foster were awarded Grammys for Record of the Year and Album of the Year and Foster was voted Producer of the Year. It was the first time he produced standards, and he has returned to this genre quite frequently, most notably with his recent discovery, Michael Bublé.

The Bodyguard Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1992)
Another major success for Foster. He produced only four songs on the soundtrack, but he needed just one to assure another Grammy for Record of the Year: “I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston, arguably Houston’s finest vocal hour (even though no one would recognize that fact anymore, this song has been played to death 1,000 times over). Foster was still in the game. The early ’90s were amazingly successful for Foster, the Grammys and the no. 1 spots just kept on coming. But his productions grew increasingly boring. He used the same personnel for all his recording dates, and seldom left his Chartmaker studio. The songs he wrote started to sound more and more alike, and quite frankly, I think he became more and more indifferent to the whole production process.

In the old days, even though he was all the things that his critics like to hate about him (slick, dominating sound, synthetic, overly sentimental, schlocky, whatever), he was also a very inventive and creative musician and producer. He went out and interacted with all kinds of artists and musicians, from Deniece Williams to Alice Cooper, Manhattan Transfer to George Harrison, Roger Daltrey and Peter Allen… whereas by now he seemed content to be sitting at home spitting out preset-LA-pop in quick succession. Thus followed:

Michael Bolton – Timeless (The Classics) (1992)
Barbra Streisand – Back to Broadway (1993)
David Foster – The Christmas Album (1993)
David Foster – Love Lights the World (1994)
Kenny Rogers – Timepiece (1994)
Celine Dion – The Color of My Love (1995)

The Corrs – Forgiven, Not Forgotten (1995)
This is the last exciting thing David Foster did, as far as I’m concerned. It may not seem like much to you, but I was incredibly delighted when I first heard this album (and still am, for that matter). Four young and real talented Irish siblings coupled with a crisp and delicate L.A. pop sound. It had punch and beauty, it sounded fresh and modern, and David Foster produced the whole thing. Foster hadn’t rocked this much since since 1987. Maybe there was hope, after all. But then:

Celine Dion – Falling Into You (1996)
Jordan Hill – Jordan Hill (1996)
Natalie Cole – Stardust (1996)
Celine Dion – Let’s Talk About Love (1997)
Celine Dion – These Are Special Times (1998)
Lace – Lace (1999)
Plus One – The Promise (2000)
Josh Groban – Josh Groban (2001)
Barbra Streisand – Duets (2001)
Josh Groban – Josh Groban in Concert (2002)
Josh Groban – Closer (2003)
Michael Bubl̩ РMichael Bubl̩ (2003)
Renee Olstead – Renee Olstead (2004)

The last phase of David Foster’s producer career concentrates on his ability to discover new talent. He’s found some young, gifted people within well-established genres, like Josh Groban (popera), Michael Bublé (Sinatra-light) and Renee Olstead (teen-sensation, jazzy and mature-sounding vocalist), and boosted them to megafame and fortune. He’s been involved in various kinds of Idol/Popstar contests and every now and then he has a production date. He expanded his popera range last year when he produced Andrea Bocelli’s “Amore.” All in all, he continues to make money, lots of money, producing artists well into his late 50s, but sadly, he’s on autopilot by now.

But there have been some glorious moments, Foster, and I thank you for every one of them. Now, if you could only loosen up a bit and start having some fun in the studio again, that would really make my day. But I’m not counting on it.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

I’m sorry, but my mind is a total blank this week, and I don’t know what else to do than to continue the bashing from last time. Please forgive me, I’m no doubt a talentless and bitter dick for wasting my time writing crap about this guy, this genius, who has so much more talent in his left thumb than I have in my entire body that he’s laughing himself all the way to the bank on a yellow-brick road covered by red carpets (red-brick road?), champagne and cheap blondes while I’m sitting here in my ramshackled camp trailer on the edge of the world, watching Swedish Dansband on television to try to laugh off the pain and drinking methanol to stay warm. Did I mention that Foster was in an artistic and commercial slum last weep? Oops, sorry — Freudian slip time — that’s “slump last week.”

Before we delve into the specifics of the three songs I lined out in last week’s entry, we will take a look at David Foster’s career in the late ’80s, and today we’re moving on to 1988. At this point he wasn’t as productive as he used to be, and he certainly didn’t dominate the charts like he used to. He was going through a divorce at the time and, as a freak experiment, he decided to take Sundays off for the first time since his pre-teens, apparently to catastrophic effect. So, a lot of bad things were happening to our hero. Case in point:

“Carmelita’s Eyes” by Neil Diamond, from The Best Years of Our Lives (1988). Produced by David Foster. Written by Neil Diamond and David Foster.

“I teamed up with Neil Diamond on The Best Years of Our Lives, thinking we were making his big comeback album — I was convinced that “Carmelita’s Eyes” was absolutely brilliant — and we fell way short.” David Foster in “Hitman — Forty Years Making Music, Topping Charts & Winning Grammys,” 2008.

As you can see, David Foster uses this song in his autobiography to describe how fucked up his judgment was at one point in the late ’80s. That’s certainly admirable, but listen to what he says a little later in the book:

“I remember, for example, suggesting that he [Michael Bublé] consider recording a version of “Carmelita’s Eyes,” the Neil Diamond song that had always been a big favorite of mine. When I played it for him in the studio, however, I realized it wasn’t very good at all…”

I can only imagine young mr. Bublé’s face when Foster played it to him. This must have happened around 2002 or 2003, so apparently Foster didn’t realize that this song sucked until Michael Bublé set him straight a couple of years ago. The fact that Foster spent the better part of the last 20 years imagining that this song was a big favorite of his really puts a lot of things in perspective. Because “Carmelita’s Eyes” is bad for you in so many ways.

If “Carmelita’s Eyes” was some sort of edible substance and David Foster was the cook, it would be made out of a piece of meat way past its expiry date — Neil Diamond — with a natural flavour of coffee, grapefruit and asphalt — his voice — thoroughly marinated in the poop of David the Cook and Neil the Meatball — which is to say, the song. It would be solidly embalmed in a thick layer of grease and cheese, added with a touch of a mild salsa sauce and finally, after an incongruous amount of overcooking, the whole thing would be covered up with the most delicate chocolate frosting. Only problem is, this is the ’80s we’re talking about, so the delicate chocolate tastes pretty much like battery fluid.

If “Carmelita’s Eyes” was a car it would be a Ford Fiesta disguised as Lincoln Town Car painted with colorful gerbera daisies. It would be a wreck, naturally, and it would run on piña coladas. If it was a country it would be Belgium, all high on chocolate, steroid-infused meat and Vaya Con Dios.

“Carmelita’s Eyes” is, indeed, the antithesis of a hit song and it should be presented as such in every single songwriting class from here to Mulug.

Ah, I feel much better now.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

I’ve been on a break for a couple of weeks, but you probably haven’t noticed — David Foster is everywhere these days. In a sense, I feel I’ve reached the point where I can say: Good job, Terje. Mission Accomplished and all that. Jason and Jeff couldn’t keep their big, fat hands off him during their grim ride throughout the frothbolous wonders of Mellowmas, could they? They even managed to insult me and my rare, exotic name. Fuckers. I have to say, guys, you really outdid yourselves during Mellowmas this year. I have blocked my RSS reader from displaying any content with the word “mellowmas” in it, and I will never, ever listen to a Christmas song again, at least as long as I’m legally competent and the undisputed master of my faculties. (We intend to make sure Terje’s legal competence is called into question well before Week 52. –Ed.)

PBS wasted a whole week on Foster’s Vegas concert, the one I reviewed back in November. I’m located elsewhere, but I have my sources, and I’m under the distinct impression that most Americans gathered around their TV sets that week to enjoy the company of Foster and Friends. Don’t deny it, I know you watched it, too. It’s something in your food, isn’t it? I’m so over that concert, by the way. Thank you.

In fact, I wasn’t at all that sure I wanted to keep doing this series for yet another 180 days. We’ve reached the glorious year of 1986 in the course of my loose chronological order, true, but it also means that the best years of David Foster’s career, at least as far as I’m concerned, are behind him and I will spend the next 20 posts writing about music that I basically don’t give a damn about — at all. I spent my Christmas vacation concocting all kinds of elaborate plans to opt out of my deal: Sorry guys — just got this new gig, really demanding job, too busy to continue writing… Serious health issues, marital distress, moving into a tent with no Internet connection — all options were explored.

But in the end I was too proud. A promise is a promise, and I need to keep my part of the deal to fuel the notion of the man I aspire to be. I can’t wait until June, though, when Jeff, the evil mastermind who gave birth to this painful series in the first place, has to keep his part of the deal. You know, he agreed to do anything I asked of him. Really. Anything. Use your imagination, guys and gals — be as mean as you can be and hit me — no, sorry — hit Jeff with your evil schemes in the comment section.

So what do we have in store in the weeks to come? Well, it’s like this: Between 1987 and 1990, Foster was in an artistic and commercial slump. Then he had a pep talk with Quincy Jones, rethought his strategy, and came out stronger than ever, commercially speaking, in 1991. In his book, he refers to this as his “comeback.” Artistically, though, he never recovered. With very few exceptions, Foster has concentrated on three songs as a composer and a producer since 1990:

1) The e-piano and/or Steinway-driven ballad “I Love You and/or I Miss You, Never Mind That, Just Listen to My Voice, It’s Sensational And Just When You Think We Can’t Take Things Any Further We’ll Go One Step Further. Boom!” It is usually written by Foster or Diane Warren. Michael Thompson plays electric guitar, Dean Parks plays the Spanish guitar, Simon Franglen plays the Synclavier, and Foster does the rest.

2) The trad-pop tune “I Love You and/or I Miss You, Never Mind That, Just Listen to My Voice, It’s Faabulous And Don’t You Dig All Those Lush Strings and Horns We Have Rented, We Almost Kill the Swing! Why on Earth Didn’t Frank Sinatra Think of That In the First Place?” This tune is usually written at least 40 years ago, the orchestra counts 100+ musicians, and Jeremy Lubbock, longtime Foster collaborator, is the arranger. It’s often wrapped up as a duet between basically decent dead guys and female nothingness disguised by a sheen of ornamentatious quasi-significance utilizing silly ad-libs.

3) Another ballad, the menacing “If You Listen To This All the Way Through, I’ll Drown You With My Italian Vibrato Until You Die, You Fucking Moron.” It involves all of the above-mentioned elements and then some. It is usually written by Foster, his wife, one or several of his kids, Carole Bayer Sager, Diane Warren, a couple of long-time-dead composers from the 1940s and some Italian guy. Michael Thompson plays two electric guitars simultaneously whereas Dean Parks treats his multiple Spanish guitars with the hands as he rips mandolin with his teeth. Simon Franglen burns his two Synclaviers into the stratosphere, toots his horn with a big fat drone, and all the while he’s blowing sweet synthmonica sounds with his ass. The orchestra counts 150+ musicians, there’s a fierce Baptist gospel choir to the left, a limp Minnesotean Lutheran Evangelical Protestant choir of Norwegian heritage to the right. Jeremy Lubbock, Jerry Hey, Johnny Mandel, Jorge Calandrelli and another stiff punch out arrangements in a sequential manner using optimally planned logistics to create a finished product much faster than with handcrafting-type methods. Sometimes they use crying babies for impact. Foster does the rest, and it’s Faabulousensational.

I think you’re really going to enjoy this.

Who said that? What?

Foster Frees – David Foster (well, Skylark, actually, but it’s Foster, really — and I don’t care if he says he’s never been on drugs, because there’s no way anyone can come up with something like this unless they’re doped up on Mommy’s Special Syrup) from Skylark 2 (1974)

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

I received the new David Foster CD/DVD in the mail yesterday along with his autobiography, Hitman! Forty Years of Making Music, Topping Charts & Winning Grammys.

I wasn’t ecstatic in any way – I jumped up and down a couple of times and did a pirouette in front of my bewildered wife – nothing major. The CD concept was a bit of a disappointment — no studio recordings, merely a selection of audio files from the PBS Special Tribute Concert featured on the DVD. I didn’t expect this Vegas extravaganza to affect me in any way, and a small part of me didn’t even want to see it. After all, what could Eric Benet, Michael Johns, or Katharine McPhee bring to the table? Sure, I used to adore David Foster, but I’m not that guy anymore – I haven’t been for the past 15 years. David Foster’s syrupy ballads doesn’t move my heart these days; John Coltrane and Bill Evans do.

And even though I always tell people I’m so uncool, it’s really just a way to downplay people’s expectations. I’m secretly convinced that I’m about the coolest person on this side of the North Pole. I have a giant ego and no doubt a seriously disturbed positive self-image. And most importantly, David Foster, Peter Cetera or “I Swear” have no place whatsoever in this delusion. So, when I sat down to watch the DVD, I was prepared to laugh at Peter Cetera’s spasmodic performance jerks. I was prepared to tsk and groan in despair as this poperatic catastrophe evolved before my eyes and ears.

Then something funny happened. I was about to turn away as Kenny G entered the picture two minutes into the concert, but once again the seductive tones of “Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire” had me transfixed. I suddenly took in the beautiful autumn leaves flowing over the background screen, I found myself smiling at Foster’s playful glances at his audience. And good, old Kenny G — he looked pretty great for a 52-year-old, didn’t he? NO! I did not think that thought! But I did.

Bring on Idol contestant Michael Johns. Damn, those opening chords to “She’s A Beauty” sound good. And Johns’ voice fits the material. He’s good. Maybe I should have watched American Idol after all? What have I been missing out on? And look at session veteran John Robinson behind the drums; he’s having a blast. So good to see talented people doing what they do best.

Next: Brian McKnight and “Mornin’,” the old Jarreau chestnut. Ooh, beautiful tone, complete control. At least until he forgets the words. No matter, it’s all part of the fun. On to “After the Love Has Gone.” And this is what really knocks me out. All my defenses are down. McKnight is totally in command — a flawless, powerful performance. And it’s a joy to watch Foster getting a complete kick out of it. What a feeling that must be for him — performing “After the Love Has Gone,” an undisputed classic that he wrote for one of the greatest bands in the history of popular music and which he no doubt still enjoys performing, in front of thousands of people at his own tribute concert with a band as airtight as a submarine. Oh, man. When they’re approaching the climax, you know, where they’re taking the woo-woo’s to a whole other level, I’m watching with tears in my eyes.

At this point I’m completely won over. Bring on a video greeting from Babs ["she's a really talented gal, really, isn't she"], Katharine McPhee performing Sondheim’s “Somewhere” ["she's so beautiful, they're all so beautiful"], Blake Shelton ["what a commanding performer, a real man"], Cheryl Lynn ["oh yeah, she still has it"]. It’s all fodder for my sentimentality, and when Boz Scaggs and Peter Cetera finally enter the stage, my usual critical good (?) sense has taken an indefinite leave of absence. Once again, Scaggs moves me to tears with “Love, Look What You’ve Done To Me.”

I’m completely taken aback by how great Peter Cetera sounds on his medley. I’ve seen some recent concert clips on YouTube, and whenever he hits a high note he removes his microphone and cuts the note, so you get these really staccato versions of his old Chicago hits. Well, none of that here – he hits every note crystal-clear and he holds them all the way through. My subconsciousness speculates that Foster may have been playing around in the studio, overdubbing Cetera’s performance with some of his old Chicago tapes, but my overall cheery mood this night overshadows any of my doubts. What a great performance.

It doesn’t matter that Cetera is followed by Andrea Bocelli, William Joseph, Celine Dion, Babyface, Charice, Michael Bublé and Josh Groban – I’m taking it all in and I’m loving every second of it. The voices, the band and the kind words showered on David Foster – it’s a celebration, it’s a grand celebration and it’s the way every celebration should be. Sigh. And “The Prayer” isn’t that bad, really.

Now if you will excuse me, I have a book to read. And since this is my last post for 2008, let me take the opportunity to thank you all for reading this series. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and a Very Mellow Christmas.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

Book a seat. David Foster is set to score a new musical about Betty Boop, and the show aims to debut on Broadway in the 2010-2011 season. David Foster has worked on Broadway musicals before – he won a Grammy for his production work on Dreamgirls starring Jennifer Holliday in 1982 – but this will be his debut as a composer. And I may be some sort of Foster expert, but never in a million years would I have predicted that his next career move included Betty Boop. David Foster continues to surprise and amaze us.

This is an appropriate time to bring out some of the weirdest and most unlikely collaborations throughout the recorded history of David Foster, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve been waiting for the right moment and this seems to be it.

Foster has been so eclectic and productive in his career that it’s tempting to assume that nothing he has ever done can come as a surprise at this point. Yet he has specialized in music so firmly planted in the “middle-of-the-road” that it’s hard to convince people he’s actually done anything in his career besides overproducing piano-driven ballads with high-pitched male vocalists and divas.

Of course, faithful readers of this series know better. The Rocky Horror Show and Jaye P. Morgan hardly fit the bill of your average Foster gig. He played on the Wheel of Fortune theme and he co-wrote a song called “Thicke of the Night” with Alan Thicke. Here are a couple of sessions which may make your jaw drop even further. Then again, maybe not — Betty Boop probably did the trick.

“A Man Who Used to Be Me,” by Ted Knight. From Hi Guys, 1975.
The biggest surprise here is no doubt that Ted Knight released a musical album at all. But yes, he did, and David Foster plays on it. Knight is, of course, better known as an actor; he portrayed the inept newscaster Ted Baxter on The Mary Tyler Moore Show and some of you may recognize him as Judge Elihu Smails in Caddyshack (1980). This is Ted Knight’s only musical album — and it’s out of print. I’m sorry to disappoint you.

The album credits doesn’t reveal which tracks Foster played on, but I’m definitely putting my money on this track – a bittersweet ballad with time-flavored, vibrato-deficient synth strings all over it. The album was produced by Jackie Mills, and in addition to Foster and another keyboardist, the rhythm section consists of Jay Graydon (guitars), Lee Sklar (bass) and Mike Baird (drums).

“If I Didn’t Have You,” by Eric Idle and Don Rickles. From the soundtrack Quest for Camelot – The Magic Sword, 1998
I guess I might as well have chosen Gary Oldman’s “Ruber” from the same album here — but I can’t resist posting a duet with Idle and Rickles, even though it isn’t very good. Quest for Camelot – The Magic Sword (1998) is an animated feature from Warner Bros and David Foster did the musical score. The movie didn’t fare very well — it received mostly negative reviews and was criticized for being too bland.

Speaking of bland: The soundtrack also gave us “The Prayer” with Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli. I have six versions of “The Prayer,” and that is why I don’t use the shuffle option on my iPod any more. If you’ve never heard the song, this is all you need to know.

“Disco Duck,” by Rick Dees & His Cast of Idiots, 1976 *
‘Nuff said.

* This is not 100% verified. I don’t have the original liner notes, but I have noted one or two discographies where Foster’s name pops up among Rick Dees’ Cast of Idiots. Also, Jay Graydon’s webpage says that Graydon played on it, which indicates that my information on Foster may be correct.

That’s all for now. Join me next week as we descend further “Into the Ear of Madness.” It’s all downhill from here.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by the man. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

Jeff, Popdose’s editor-in-chief, has a crush on Jack Wagner. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that (actually, there is, but it’s generally not a good idea to throw rocks from a glass house). But I do fear that my future here at Popdose would be in danger if I failed to mention David Foster’s collaborations with Wagner, so here we go. For those of you who don’t know the man, Jack Wagner is an American singer and television actor who’s graced such classic soap operas as General Hospital and The Bold and the Beautiful as well as the prime-time soap Melrose Place. On occasion he’s even managed to combine his two careers, sculpting magical moments like this, and if that doesn’t bring tears to your eyes I honestly don’t know what will. Wagner is also respected amongst his Hollywood peers for his golfing ability.

“All I Need,” released in 1984, is his only Top 40 hit. It was written and produced by Clif Magness and Glen Ballard, a prolific songwriting team in the ’80s. This post, however, isn’t dedicated to “All I Need” at all, but rather to the follow-up single, “Lady of My Heart,” a blank ballad written by Foster, Ballard, and Jay Graydon that, to my surprise, actually managed to climb all the way up to #76 on the Billboard chart in the spring of ’85.

“Lady of My Heart,” by Jack Wagner, from All I Need (1984)

It’s incredibly bland — I can’t listen to it without conjuring an image of a snotty high school senior with a Clark Kent hairdo singing his heartfelt rendition in front of his teachers and fellow students toward the end of an episode of Fame after learning a lesson or two about the hard realities of showbiz. Cut to Bruno and Coco smiling knowingly at each other as the end credits appear over the lame freeze-frame.

Well, at least that’s how I used to feel until I saw this video.

Jack Wagner is the Jack Jones of the ’80s, only with weirder hair. Jones was an actor, too, you know.

Wagner has recorded five albums. “Lady of My Heart” is from his debut, All I Need, and 2005′s Dancing With the Moonlight is his most recent effort. As a result of Wagner’s personal friendship with Sony Music CEO Andrew Lack, Dancing was released on Sony, and the leadoff single was a Timbaland production, a wonderful duet with Kelly Clarkson that quickly started climbing the charts in the spring of … okay, I’m only kidding. Dancing was actually released on BB & J Records, and Lack, Timbaland, and Kelly Clarkson probably don’t even know who Jack Wagner is. It’s a crazy world, huh?

Foster cowrote “Too Young” with Jay Graydon, Steve Kipner, and Donny Osmond for Wagner’s Lighting Up the Night (1985). A lot of writers, to be sure, but, alas, very little substance. There has been no trace of Foster on Wagner’s records since then; Foster may have a God-given Midas touch when it comes to spotting and developing star material, but he also has a flair for knowing when he’s got a stinker on his hands. And he was the first one out the door here, I’m sure.

I’m sorry, Jeff. He does have a good voice, though.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by David Foster. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

When I heard “Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire” for the first time in 1985 or 1986, it was the also the first time that I became aware of David Foster. I had a friend at the time, a spoiled little brat who used to sport a white skipper hat and a ponytail, kept about 25 pastel-colored linen suits in the style of Don Johnson in his walk-in closet along with matching espadrillos, and drove a banana-colored Citroen Visa — and of course he and his family were always the innovators: they were the first ones on our street to own a Betamax, the first ones with a modem and he was the first kid to get an Amiga (an ancient personal computer). We always used to laugh at his poor gaming skills, though, especially on this insanely addictive timewaster called Marble Madness, and when we did, he turned all red in the face, promptly turned off his computer and threw us out of the house. Every time. Then we laughed even harder — he was such a poor loser.

Ah, good times.

Anyway, he was also the first kid to buy a CD player, and I will never forget the day that he and I and some other guys went to the library and picked up a couple of CDs to put his new brand new player to the test. I hadn’t seen the movie yet, but I had heard “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” on the radio, and it was about the coolest thing I had ever heard, so I pleaded him to bring along the St. Elmo’s Fire soundtrack. He was more of a Mantronix (!) man, but he reluctantly agreed.

We got back to their stylish villa, naturally designed by his dad, the architect, and we started spinning the library discs. “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” was the first track I ever heard on a CD player (which, along with their state-of-the-art stereo, may go a long way to explain my longtime David Foster affection), and my friends definitely got into the John Parr-groove as well. Yeah, this was teh shit, 1985-style. We danced around the house all the way until… track 2.

Then The Skipper started skipping tracks. Rock, rock, never stop, take your passion, shoot your shot Come on now, baby! Oh ho ho… Nah, what was this crap? Billy Squier’s “Shake Down” didn’t go down well with these four Scandinavian teens who had just made complete fools of themselves humping around to the beat of John Parr. Skip. Then came a ballad — Elefante’s “Young and Innocent” with a beautiful piano intro that got me all excited – skip! – a couple of “rockers” by Jon Anderson and Fee Waybill - skip! skip! – and then… the beautiful sound of those arpeggiating synth cellos augmented by Foster’s Rhodes and piano.

“Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire,” by David Foster. From St. Elmo’s Fire/Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1985)

Inexplicably, I was hooked from the first bar. I don’t know why, I really don’t, it’s one of life’s great mysteries, but I fell seriously in love with that sound – skip! – wait, wait you little fucker!! Don’t do that! Play it again! Mumbles my pastel-colored friend: “Yeah, yeah, I’m just gonna play through the other tracks first. This is just filler, no? -skip! – There were those synth cellos again – at a slightly faster tempo!

“Georgetown,” by David Foster (1985)

Skip! Noooo! Stop doing that, you bastard! But wait! Here they were again, the cellos, at a slower tempo. Hooray.

“Love Theme from St Elmo’s Fire (For Just A Moment),” by David Foster. With Donny Gerrard and Amy Holland (1985)

Skip! Bzzzzz. “Boring,” yawned my friend as he put the disc back into its jewel case, well aware of the fact that he had pissed me off. But he had no idea how pissed off I was [sound of white skipper hat torn apart as it's pulled down over the ears of an ex-skipper.]

Needless to say, I went out to buy St. Elmo’s Fire on vinyl, and I soon discovered Foster’s name on my Chicago and Lionel Richie records, and the rest, as they say, is history. I was hooked. “Love Theme from St. Elmo’s Fire” was a phenomenal success for David Foster, considering it’s an instrumental. It spent three months on the charts and it peaked at #15.

Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by the man. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.

I’m on vacation, spending the rest of the week by the Mediterranean, but hagen wouldn’t let me off the hook, so here’s a little something for you to enjoy while I’m away. Due to the circumstances, I’m afraid this week’s entry will be painfully short. I left my Fosterclopedia tools at home, so there’ll be no amusing anecdotes or pointless trivia to accompany the music. You may claim that I could have foreseen these events and written this week’s post ahead of schedule, and of course you’re absolutely right. But that’s just not how I work. To paraphrase David Foster, I’m “living for the moment” (from his 1990 solo album River of Love).

“Hold Me Til the Morning Comes,” by Paul Anka

We’re starting this week with a duet. You may remember my duet ramblings from last time, when I mentioned the Paul Anka-Peter Cetera collaboration. I’m sure you were excited by the idea, and who am I to let you down? Here’s the track in all its splendor. Someone — I think some guy at a fan site — noted that it sounds like a lost track from Chicago 17, and I agree. Replace Mr. Anka with Bill Champlin and you’ve got a perfect Chicago ballad (“perfect” being a relative term, of course) in the style of “Hard Habit to Break.”

“I Can Wait Forever,” by Air Supply (from the Ghostbusters soundtrack)

And then we have this memorable ballad from Australia’s most popular soft rockers. It’s my favorite Air Supply ballad, if indeed there is such a thing. “I Can Wait Forever” is a tight, solid David Foster production in the style that made him so famous (or infamous, depending on your tastes) in the early 1980s. In fact, both of the featured songs’ melodies are really strong and infectious. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself humming these tunes as you’re walking home from work this afternoon; I know I do it on a pretty regular basis (note the deliberate ambiguity here).

That’s all for this week. We’ll soon be done with all these power ballads, and then we’ll enter the realm of David Foster: The Solo Artist. Well, gotta go — I have an appointment with Michael Caine and Steve Martin in about half an hour.