ERIC CARMEN: MARATHON MAN Bernie Hogya & Ken Sharp By Larry Lange In the music business, everybody wants to be a big as the Beatles. But for one teenage musician stranded in late '60s Ohio, the goal was even loftier-to be the Beatles. A new book on the life of Eric Carmen recounts the story of a dream that could never be. Eric Carmen: Marathon Man is an unapologetic and often gritty profile of a pop prodigy forced to deal with the emotional pitfalls, betrayals, bad deals, slick creeps, touring horrors, and yes—occasional joys—inherent with a career in popular music.

Yet the book is more than one artist's story about the ups-and-downs of "making it" in the music business. It is a powerful indictment on the tempting-yet insidious nature—and ultimate betrayal—of the American Dream.

Written in a lively manner, and superbly packaged, the 400-page treatise spans Carmen's nearly five decades in music. Packed with quotes from key people who were there, including new interviews with Carmen, the lavishly illustrated book recounts how an American baby boomer with an early penchant for classical music, was changed radically when the British music invasion swept through his sleepy Ohio burg in the early '60s.

Hogya and Sharp write with an authority only rabid fans like themselves could, but the pair never allow their idol worship to merely paint a rose-colored picture of the Carmen story. We're there with Carmen in his car, as he confides to his best friend his desire to conquer the world working the Fab Four template. We see Carmen and his band living out the Beatles' Hamburg and Cavern Club experiences-this time on the Midwest bar circuit-developing a loyal fan base and enticing music bigwigs to fly out to watch the group's note-perfect covers of Beatles, Stones, Who, and Small Faces songs and their own fledgling original material.

We feel the heady rush as Raspberries sign to a major record label, only to watch the naïve band unable to leverage early chart hits and critical acclaim to consistent and widespread success. Saddled as they were by execs who didn't seem to know what the hell to do with them, and who simply relegated the group over to the teenybop industry, this was their death knell-given the dominance of hard rock bands of the time such as Led Zeppelin and Jethro Tull.

Carmen's dream starts to go bad early. The book takes us to the point where, even after a triumphant appearance at Carnegie Hall, Carmen's group turns on him, sometimes violently. There are several fascinating pages devoted to a dingy club's parking-lot fight-as the diminutive Carmen is literally dragged by the hair and thrown into walls by his tough-guy lead guitar player who screams at him: "you ruined my life!"

The authors don't turn a dim light to the next wave of Carmen's solo career either, we view it in all its glaring ugliness. We learn how music mogul Clive Davis promises Carmen the moon, but after "All By Myself" goes major, incessantly rides Carmen to become more like label-mate Barry Manilow. Carmen nearly destroys himself emotionally creating 1977s Boats Against The Current, which goes way over-budget and is a monumental flop.

With disco at its height in the late '70s, Carmen is backed into churning out an album of candy-coated dance fare (1978's Change of Heart)—while at the same time writing lyrics that reveal an artist going deep into disillusionment and depression: "the games that I've played, were not worth what I paid, in a town full of desperate fools."

The book never lets up in its surprising honesty. You have to give Carmen (who cooperated on the book) enormous credit for not playing safe with the sometimes shocking comments. For instance, Carmen speaks openly about his disenchantment with how his music was recorded. On Raspberries producer Jimmy lenner: "[the albums] sounded like they're coming over a crappy AM radio," On Elton John's producer, Gus Dudgeon, who worked on Boats: "horrible…depressing…a nightmare." A project with hitmaker Bob Gaudio was "a catastrophe." Amazing stuff—especially in this politically-correct environment-and hats off to Hogya and Sharp for not delivering a love letter.

Writing a comprehensive biography about their idol does appear to give Hogya and Sharp pause in revealing too much about their subject. For instance, they don't delve deeply into what makes Carmen tick—especially in
the formative pre-teen years. What drove Carmen so incessantly to become a star in the first place? Further, while we do get dollops of truth behind Carmen's tumultuous studio days and his business problems, Hogya and Sharp don't venture behind-the-scenes on their hero's touring life. What were Carmen and his bandmates up to after hours—booze, drugs, sex? At one point, Carmen's A&R man in the '80s speculates on possible drug use-but the opportunity to go deeper is ignored.

Those are small points however. For a self-published effort, the book is grandiose in scope and achievement. It's testament to Hogya and Sharp's endearing love of the man that the pair spent two years laboring over it—Simon and Schuster couldn't (and wouldn't) have done better.

Discoveries / October 2004