Don't Say You Don't Remember

           The term ‘one-hit wonder’ doesn’t sound very, well, wonderful. It has the echo of disappointment—which is completely unfair to many of the artists who have it foisted upon them by critics who don’t know the whole story. Beverly Bremers doesn’t mind too much; not only does her 1972 hit record, “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember,” stand on its own as a soundtrack for an entire generation, but she stands equally tall in her assessment of the full and vibrant life she led following its success on the charts.
            The students who heard it on the radio back then—and then bought it at the record store—are grandparents today. Like me. Which is why searching out Ms. Bremers was as personal as it was professional for me. But just hearing Bremers’ robust, beseeching voice sing those lovelorn lyrics instantly made it far more personal than professional, bringing out as it did the dreams and emotions of a time gone by:             

                        Don’t say you don’t remember
                        I’ll never love anyone else

                        If you say you don’t remember
                        How can I go on living with myself?

            Beverly was born in Chicago in 1950 and from an early age knew she wanted to perform. She did a little modeling, some commercials, and also appeared on local television shows. At the age of 14 she cut her first record, “We Got Trouble,” although it didn’t perform well on the charts. “But it did give me invaluable studio experience and was a great way to learn the ropes,” she says of that first attempt.

            By the time she was in her twenties Beverly had already recorded for RCA Records and studied at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York. Shortly thereafter she hit the Off-Broadway and Broadway stages in “Hair” and the original production of “The Me Nobody Knows.” Then, toward the end of 1971 she recorded “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember,” which reached #15 on Billboard’s Hot 100 and #3 on the Adult Contemporary chart.
            Following that, Beverly and her husband relocated to Los Angeles, where she became involved in many activities. She wrote the music and lyrics for several long-running musicals, including “The Glitter Palace” and “O’Mary’s,” provided hundreds of voiceovers for such clients as Taco Bell and Blue Cross/Blue Shield, guest starred on many TV shows, among them “Veronica Mars” and “Once Upon a Brothers Grimm,” performed in the Los Angeles productions of “Menopause, The Musical” and “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” taught acting, singing, voiceover and accent reduction, and did volunteer work at senior communities.
            Beverly never had another Top 20 hit, but does that really matter? “I’m positive and focused,” she says. “Like everyone, I have good days and bad. I’m happy, energetic and friendly. I can be a workaholic as well as a dreamer. In fact, my last name rhymes with dreamers—which a lot of people don’t realize. I appreciate what I have and try to pay it forward.”
            She spoke to me from her home in Los Angeles.

There’s something about “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember” that makes it seem almost symbolic of its time. How did that record come about?

I was appearing in “The Me Nobody Knows” in New York and met a young man named David Lipton at the recording of the original cast album. He worked for the publisher of the score. David became my manager and thought it was time for me to cut another single. So he asked two of the songwriters at his company, Helen Miller and Estelle Levitt, to come up with a song for me, and that turned out to be “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember.” David and I pooled our money, booked a studio, an engineer, an arranger and musicians, and recorded it ‘on spec.’ That means we could pay everyone involved lower demo rates, but if we sold it to a record label we’d have to pay them full professional rates. We sold the master recording to Scepter Records, they released it—and soon everyone was getting their professional rates!

And it became a big hit. Was that a surprise?

Yes, it was! I had never charted before, so getting that much airplay was extremely gratifying. What most people don’t know is that it was actually released twice and was on the charts for a total of nine months.

 

 

Why twice?

It was first released at the end of 1971 and just missed the top 40. We were actually satisfied with that and began work on a second record. But then a deejay in San Jose started playing it early in 1972, even though it was getting old, and his phone rang off the hook with requests. So Scepter re-released it and it started to climb the charts. Soon all the other stations were playing it. We still have no idea what made that deejay start to spin it again, but whatever it was, we’re grateful.

The song builds like a drama. It begins, “We wrote on the corner of the table: ‘This is only one that will last. For you and for me, for always, forever was meant for us.’ But for us it went by too fast.” Do you think its theatricality is one reason for its popularity?

That’s certainly part of it. A lot of people tell me tell me how meaningful the song is to them—usually in terms of love affairs that worked out well or, sadly, that didn’t.

The experience of having a hit record probably had a lot of highs and lows. What were some of yours?

One of the lows was having made some poor choices. I was very much involved in Broadway then and unwisely chose to stay in New York instead of hitting the road to promote the record. It could have been an even bigger hit if I did, and a follow-up would have been easier. Another low was not getting paid all the royalties I was entitled to. A lot of artists were in the same position. By the time my next record came out, Scepter was suffering financially, which made it even harder to collect. But the highs were very high. Hearing it on the radio all the time was one. Appearing on “American Bandstand” was another. And the best thing of all was meeting a man I fell in love with and then married. That was 40 years ago, and we’re still married!

The two of you worked on a follow-up called “We’re Free.” Didn’t it achieve a bit of controversy?

“We’re Free” was a song about loving and living with a man to whom you’re not married. It wasn’t a big hit, but it was in the Top 40 and made it onto the country charts. We had problems getting airplay since many stations refused to play it because of the lyrics. It sounds ridiculous now, but at the time radio programmers were scared of lines like “I give myself to you, that’s what I want to do, we don’t need no vows to hold us...” Interestingly, it didn’t bother people in the Bible belt, but it was tough to get it played in New York and Los Angeles. Go figure!

It sounds so innocent now! Speaking of which, how did the music business treat you after “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember” became such a big hit? Didn’t more doors open up?

Well, my record company was struggling, and that affected my career. I finally left Scepter and signed with CBS Records, which was in a much stronger position, but I became lost in the shuffle since there were many huge artists signed to the label. Then, when I moved to Los Angeles I was caught in a power struggle between two executives, one on the East Coast and one on the West, and ended up with the wrong one. After I made several more recordings, such as “What I Did For Love” from “A Chorus Line,” I asked to be released from my contract. That’s when I moved on to other things, like songwriting, voiceovers, teaching and theatre.

Does that make you think back to when you were little—when you had so many dreams to consider? Does it make you wonder about the direction you eventually chose?

I pretty much always wanted to perform, no matter what kind of performing it was. I started studying acting when I was eight and never stopped. Then, when I found out I could sing, I began studying voice, too. When I was ten my family moved to the New York suburbs and I started meeting people who could help me in my pursuit to become a performer. So it’s not really a case of thinking back and wondering, but of realizing that, in a way, I chased all my dreams and, in many ways, actually made every one come true.

You must be proud of all your accomplishments. What gives you the most pleasure, when you think back on it all?

Oh, so much. I’m proud of my work in theatre, particularly “The Me Nobody Knows.” I’m proud of all the songs I’ve composed, especially “Mousercise” for Disney, which has been so successful, and the five musicals I’ve written. I’m proud of my marriage and my grown-up daughter, who’s beautiful, smart and fun. I’m proud of the volunteer work I do at local retirement homes, where I direct theatre productions. And I’m proud of my recordings. I still look forward to hearing from “Don’t Say You Don’t Remember” fans.

 

 

Many still contact you, don’t they?

All the time. On Facebook, on my website, on email. It makes me feel good knowing that the record had and still has such on impact on so many lives.

What advice would you give to people who want to be as happy and satisfied as you are?

I have tons of advice. Are you ready?

Ready.

Don’t dwell on the past. Embrace it and move on. Life’s too short. Don’t be afraid to stand out in a crowd. Be true to yourself. Tell your family you love them every day. Be kind to others without expecting anything in return. Be professional and conscientious. Prepare for everything and expect the unexpected. Don’t procrastinate. As a wise old Native American once said, “Love many, trust few, and always paddle your own canoe.”

Sounds like a line in a song.

It is. I wrote it for one of my shows.