Stories That Should Be Told (9) Bert Sommers Bert Sommer - And when it's over (1968)
When Bert takes the stage at Woodstock, he has behind him a brief stint with the Left Banke (you know @[zig]?), during which he managed to release an obscure 45 and an album "The Road To Travel."
"The Road To Travel" is a masterpiece of baroque pop and soft singer-songwriter music, with slight psych nuances and that naïveté that only the atmosphere of the '60s makes so poignant.
Bert has a great voice, flexible and wide-ranging, and a remarkable stage presence.
And he has talent, real talent.
But that's not why he was called to perform at Woodstock: not for the talent, the voice, or that obscure and unknown little masterpiece "The Road To Travel." No, he was called for his participation in the musical "Hair." The only quarter-hour of glory that the music deities would grant our Bert. The only thing that remains today of him is the image of his hair depicted on the original musical poster; just the hair, not the face (nor the name, for that matter).
But his performance there at Woodstock is historic; it starts with a sweet "Jennifer" (dedicated to Jennifer Warnes, future Mrs. Cohen and extraordinary singer. Make sure to get at least her "The Famous Blue Raincoat") and ends with a rousing "America" by Paul Simon that drives the audience wild.
He leaves the stage to a standing ovation.
It would seem like a perfect springboard for his second album about to be released.
But fate has other plans for him...
His entire performance is cut out of the film (and the record). Officially for technical issues, but the truth is that the reason was a commercial choice by the record company: since Bert was engaged with another major label (Capitol), Warners didn't really want to promote their promising artist.
Result: no one remembers his breakthrough; Capitol drops him (I never found out why), the sufficiently dignified (more than dignified) "Inside Bert Sommers" is purchased only by friends and family, and it doesn't go any better with "Bert Sommers," which he records in that same 1970.
Why? Why did those three albums (solid and at least one - the first - a masterpiece) do so poorly?
Why has someone who had everything to make it, including a nice face which never hurts, completely vanished?
For him, not even a "cult" aura, a late rediscovery, a grassroots word-of-mouth. Nothing, just disappeared.
In '77 he tries one last time with "Bert Sommers."
Then nothing more.
No, actually there is something: in 1990, at just 41 years old, respiratory failure (respiratory failure for a singer!) takes him away.
Here we are well beyond bad luck...