The Greatest Parts of "The Greatest Night in Pop"
A breakdown of the "We Are the World" documentary
(My voiceover)
Note: There comes a time when we heed a certain call. That time is now, and that call is “spoilers ahead.”
If you haven’t seen The Greatest Night in Pop, Netflix’s documentary about the making of “We Are the World,” stop reading this, go watch it, and meet me back here in 97 minutes. I’ll wait.
From the project’s genesis to the planning to the execution, it’s fascinating. All of it.
Of course, the highlight is the recording session. We see nearly 50 of the biggest musical artists in the world sequestered in a studio overnight, trying to nail a song they’re learning on the spot. The session is rife with insecurity, subtle competition, and overcompensation. It’s like LinkedIn with music and weirder hair.
Wanna Be Startin’ Something
Even if you weren’t yet born when “We Are the World” was released in 1985, you’re probably familiar with the song. Inspired by “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”, for which Bob Geldof brought together a bunch of British superstars to raise money for starving people in Africa, the aim was to do the same with a roster of American A-listers. They called the endeavor U.S.A. for Africa.
Quincy Jones was to produce the song, while Lionel Richie and Stevie Wonder were tapped to write it. Unfortunately, they couldn’t track Stevie down. This sets up a recurring theme: Stevie does whatever Stevie wants.
He does show up for the recording, but in the meantime, Quincy enlists Michael Jackson to work with Richie. As present-day Lionel Richie tells it, what their initial writing sessions lacked in productivity, they made up for in bizarre behavior and exotic-animal invasions.
His stories, complete with MJ impression, are hilarious. It’s everything you’d expect to hear about Jackson in peak-weirdo mode. (Well, not everything, thankfully.)
This leads us to the main part of our program. Please take your seats.
The Superlatives
MVP: Lionel Richie
The project’s organizers felt it was important to have everyone record the song together rather than piecemeal, and the upcoming American Music Awards provided the perfect chance—probably the only chance—to do that. Nearly every star they wanted would be in Los Angeles at the same time.
The decision was made: they’d record the song immediately after the AMAs. The host that year? Lionel Richie.
Richie had to cowrite the song with an eccentric man-child, help convince the artists to participate, and prepare to emcee his first awards show, all while putting together his inaugural solo tour after leaving the Commodores.
Then, the evening of the AMAs, he had to host the show—during which he won six awards—then race across town to spend all night in a recording studio.
There, in addition to being one of the project’s ringleaders and singers, he’s in charge of making sure that all runs smoothly on the studio floor, dealing with any issues from the other performers.
All the while, he remains in good spirits. Seriously, he seems as cool as can be. The man really is easy like Sunday morning.
MVP Honorable Mention: Quincy Jones
Quincy Jones’ friends call him Q, which I will also do because I feel that if we were to meet, we would bond immediately.
Q famously hung up a hand-written sign in the studio that said, “Check your egos at the door.” It couldn’t have been 100% effective, but it did set the right tone. Most of the artifice and bullshit were gone.
We all know he’s a brilliant producer, but it’s amazing to see how incredible he is with artists—building them up, giving them just what they need to hear so he can get what he needs out of them. He’s like the cool dad here, and everyone wants to make him happy; everyone wants him to be proud of them.
Stevie fucks with him a little, but it’s all in good fun. He’s Stevie, so he can do whatever he wants.
Best Worst Pep Talk: Bob Geldof
Another Q masterstroke: inviting Geldof to speak to the group. He gets them all to focus by making this dire situation in Africa more real for them.
It’s one thing to know you’re trying to help starving people. It’s another to have Geldof paint a picture of their living conditions: no water, only 15 bags of flour for tens of thousands of people, meningitis, malaria, typhoid, dead bodies everywhere.
In terms of depressing humanitarian lectures delivered in Irish accents, he out-Bono’s Bono. But it works. Everyone gets a lot more serious after that.
Most Likely to Lock Himself in the Bathroom (Either by Accident or on Purpose): Bob Dylan
You’ve heard of “Dylan goes electric?” Here he blows a fuse.
Throughout the chorus, he’s nearly catatonic, looking like he’s been beamed down from Planet Mumbles with no instructions on how to blend in or even move his mouth.
When it comes time to record his solo, he’s so befuddled that Stevie Wonder does an impromptu Bob Dylan impression to show him how to sing his part like himself. Which Bob Dylan copies. I’m not making that up. It’s the blind leading the bland.
Most Unexpected Fangirl: Diana Ross
According to vocal arranger Tom Bahler, Ross was the first to approach any of the other singers to ask for an autograph:
“I’m your biggest fan. Would you sign my music for me?”
Who was the object of Diana’s admiration? Harry Belafonte? Dionne Warwick? Ray Charles?
Nope. Daryl Hall.
I like Daryl Hall just fine, but legendary Diana Ross fawning over him? I can’t go for that. No can do.
Worst Exit: Waylon Jennings
At one point, Stevie wants to pay homage to the people they’re trying to help by incorporating some Swahili into the song. It isn’t really working and is ultimately decided against, but Waylon doesn’t stick around to find that out.
According to one of the cameramen, once things started down that path, Waylon’s parting words were, “Well, ain’t no good old boy ever sung Swahili. I think I’m out of here.”
Given the subtext there, one has to wonder, what did he think they were all doing there? Was he looking for U.S.A. for Alabama?
Best Clutch Player: Huey Lewis
Prince had been invited, of course, but was being typically Princey about the whole thing, and no one knew if he was going to show up.
Around 3:00 a.m., he lets Lionel Richie know that his presence is contingent on not only being able to perform a guitar solo, but doing it from a different studio, apart from everyone else. Lionel tells him no. Probably without raising his pulse even a beat. God, he’s cool.
That leaves a Prince-shaped hole in the solo lineup, and Huey Lewis is asked to fill it. It may surprise you to hear that Prince and Huey have slightly different vocal ranges. Even so, an admittedly scared Huey steps up and belts it out like a champ.
Then they decide to make a change on the fly, and ask Huey to figure out a three-part harmony for himself, Cyndi Lauper, and Kim Carnes. The reason for this is unsaid, but it ends up shaving Kim’s solo down from six words to two, so you figure it out.
Most One-of-These-Things-Is-Not-Like-the-Others Participant: Dan Aykroyd
I love Dan Aykroyd. He’s a genius. But having him in this group singing between Lindsey Buckingham and Harry Belafonte is like adding David Lee Roth to the cast of Saturday Night Live.
Most Surprising Problem: Tie —Al Jarreau and Cyndi Lauper
Al Jarreau has a distinct singing style. He doesn’t adhere to traditional phrasing, and he’s likely to add syllables into words where no one else could fit them. So when a series of ill-timed caterwauls springs from his mouth, it takes people a while to catch on that this isn’t Al trying something; this is Al really, really drunk.
Think about this. In a room full of veteran rock singers and Willie Nelson, the one who’s the most fucked up is smooth jazz’s Al Jarreau.
Meanwhile, Cyndi is perfectly behaved, but there’s a persistent audio issue every time she launches into her solo. It’s a new microphone, so the engineers are baffled as they keep tweaking things on the mixing board.
Eventually, someone figures out the culprit is the approximately 25 pounds of beaded necklaces she’s wearing. She looks like she’s just returned from Mardi Gras and Carnival, and stopped by a Michaels store on the way back from the airport. Once she removes them, she’s good to go.
Best Closer: Bruce Springsteen
If you’ve ever seen Bruce in concert, you know that he doesn’t half-ass anything. It’s not unusual for him to put on a three-hour show, during which he runs around like “I’m on Fire” is to be taken literally.
His “Born in the U.S.A.” tour ended the night before the recording, yet he flew across the country to be there. He’s exhausted, his voice is shot, and they don’t get to his solo until around 7:00 a.m.
Though he’s nervous and unsure his voice will hold, he blasts out his vocals like an emphysema patient who’s been snacking on razor blades. Yet because he’s the Boss, it’s perfect.
And with that, the recording is finished.
That’s a Wrap
The people in that studio were some of the best at what they do. Having recently written about impostor syndrome, I was particularly encouraged by seeing some of their insecurities on display. Many of these super-talented people were very unsure of themselves.
However they may have felt, they gave their all for charity throughout a very long night. It’s incredibly impressive.
And in a heartwarming coda, Bob Dylan eventually came out of his vegetative state, regained the use of his motor functions, and today lives a happy and fulfilling life as a Bob Dylan impersonator.
Excellent review, Chris! I watched this a few weeks ago and loved it, and you did a great job pointing out the things that struck me as well.
Great review! Hilarious metaphors.
I watched this documentary 3x. With sis, then hubby then daughter. 27 yo daughter has eclectic music taste and I had to explain who some of the celebs were. She appreciated it. (Whatever happened to Kim Carnes?)
Best line of the night was when someone said (forgot who and paraphrasing) "If a bomb fell on us, John Denver would be back on top."
I did wonder if Madonna broke up with Huey because she wasn't invited to participate and maybe he didn't do enough to get her on the ticket. They were dating. Who knows. It's my imagination.
Now you must watch Thriller 40.