Gord H
12-15-2005, 07:45 AM
Maybe Anne Murray's next recording should be R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
Canada's songbird, who looks back at her extraordinary career tonight on Anne Murray: The Music Of My Life (CBC, 9 p.m.), is tired of reading that she's yesterday's news.
The 60-year-old entertainer was especially hurt when various Canadian columnists -- including this one -- invoked her name when knocking last summer's Live 8 lineup in Barrie, Ont. "This is your mom and dad's rock concert, just an Anne Murray away from Branson, Missouri," I wrote. "Where are the acts from this century?"
Murray was reached on the phone yesterday in Waukegan, Ill., where she performed at a sold-out concert last night. She agrees that more young, emerging Canadian bands should have been given a shot last August in Barrie. Still, that's no excuse for picking on the old timers, she says.
"What do you do -- bury us?" says Murray, always a straight shooter. "I have no intention of going away; nor does Gordon Lightfoot or Bruce Cockburn or any of these other people. I took exception to that."
Murray also worries that, "as we get older, we become more vulnerable because people are trying to sweep you under the carpet. We're going to be swept under kicking and screaming I can assure you."
Murray vows that, "As long as I can sing, I will do this. The minute I can't sing -- and I set the bar quite high -- that's it."
That will be a sad day for Murray's many fans who flock to her live shows all over the U.S. and Canada. She still routinely sells out 5,000-seat venues.
For others, tonight's hour-long retrospective is a great reminder that it was Murray who opened the door for all the Shanias, Celines and Avrils that followed.
Her accomplishments speak for themselves. In a career that started in 1966 on CBC's Singalong Jubilee, the Nova Scotia native has sold over 30 million albums worldwide. The first Canadian singer to reach No. 1 on the U.S. charts, she was also the first woman -- and the first Canadian -- to win the Country Music Association's album of the year award.
"I know how to do it and have been doing it better than most people for 37 years," Murray said yesterday. "That's what pisses me off. People have no idea what my show is like... they have no idea how much fun it is."
The fun -- and that determined professionalism -- shines through in tonight's hour. All dimples and curls, Murray was such an apple-cheeked, fresh-faced doll when she broke onto the scene in the mid-'60s. You'll just fall in love with her all over again in clips from Singalong Jubilee, The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour and other performance tapings.
A shy exchange with Campbell -- Murray had to tell a dumb, scripted joke before they broke into a duet -- reveals an entertainer who never let nerves or occasion diminish that clear, powerful voice.
"I was in awe of working with that man," says Murray, who felt nothing but support from Campbell. Other clips feature duets with k.d. lang, Celine Dion, Patti LaBelle, Kenny Rogers and Julio Iglesias. Missing are Murray's idols Perry Como and Ray Charles -- she couldn't get the rights to their clips. "That was the thrill of my life when I met him," she says of Como, whom she found as warm and down to earth as he appeared on TV.
One Murray moment I'll never forget (and, unfortunately, missing from tonight's special): Back in the '70s, Murray was booked on The Dean Martin Show and blabbed about the experience on The Mike Douglas Show. Showing more sass than Douglas anticipated, Murray blasted Martin for being lazy and unprofessional by ditching rehearsal. Martin's people caught wind of the cheeky outburst and cut her from Dino's variety series.
"I don't remember that," said Murray, "but it sounds like something I'd
Canada's songbird, who looks back at her extraordinary career tonight on Anne Murray: The Music Of My Life (CBC, 9 p.m.), is tired of reading that she's yesterday's news.
The 60-year-old entertainer was especially hurt when various Canadian columnists -- including this one -- invoked her name when knocking last summer's Live 8 lineup in Barrie, Ont. "This is your mom and dad's rock concert, just an Anne Murray away from Branson, Missouri," I wrote. "Where are the acts from this century?"
Murray was reached on the phone yesterday in Waukegan, Ill., where she performed at a sold-out concert last night. She agrees that more young, emerging Canadian bands should have been given a shot last August in Barrie. Still, that's no excuse for picking on the old timers, she says.
"What do you do -- bury us?" says Murray, always a straight shooter. "I have no intention of going away; nor does Gordon Lightfoot or Bruce Cockburn or any of these other people. I took exception to that."
Murray also worries that, "as we get older, we become more vulnerable because people are trying to sweep you under the carpet. We're going to be swept under kicking and screaming I can assure you."
Murray vows that, "As long as I can sing, I will do this. The minute I can't sing -- and I set the bar quite high -- that's it."
That will be a sad day for Murray's many fans who flock to her live shows all over the U.S. and Canada. She still routinely sells out 5,000-seat venues.
For others, tonight's hour-long retrospective is a great reminder that it was Murray who opened the door for all the Shanias, Celines and Avrils that followed.
Her accomplishments speak for themselves. In a career that started in 1966 on CBC's Singalong Jubilee, the Nova Scotia native has sold over 30 million albums worldwide. The first Canadian singer to reach No. 1 on the U.S. charts, she was also the first woman -- and the first Canadian -- to win the Country Music Association's album of the year award.
"I know how to do it and have been doing it better than most people for 37 years," Murray said yesterday. "That's what pisses me off. People have no idea what my show is like... they have no idea how much fun it is."
The fun -- and that determined professionalism -- shines through in tonight's hour. All dimples and curls, Murray was such an apple-cheeked, fresh-faced doll when she broke onto the scene in the mid-'60s. You'll just fall in love with her all over again in clips from Singalong Jubilee, The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour and other performance tapings.
A shy exchange with Campbell -- Murray had to tell a dumb, scripted joke before they broke into a duet -- reveals an entertainer who never let nerves or occasion diminish that clear, powerful voice.
"I was in awe of working with that man," says Murray, who felt nothing but support from Campbell. Other clips feature duets with k.d. lang, Celine Dion, Patti LaBelle, Kenny Rogers and Julio Iglesias. Missing are Murray's idols Perry Como and Ray Charles -- she couldn't get the rights to their clips. "That was the thrill of my life when I met him," she says of Como, whom she found as warm and down to earth as he appeared on TV.
One Murray moment I'll never forget (and, unfortunately, missing from tonight's special): Back in the '70s, Murray was booked on The Dean Martin Show and blabbed about the experience on The Mike Douglas Show. Showing more sass than Douglas anticipated, Murray blasted Martin for being lazy and unprofessional by ditching rehearsal. Martin's people caught wind of the cheeky outburst and cut her from Dino's variety series.
"I don't remember that," said Murray, "but it sounds like something I'd