Johnny Mathis: Realising I was a drug addict i am so traumatic
Or as he puts it: “I’m known for mushy music.” Nobody can deliver a romantic line quite like the silken-voiced Mathis as his record sales of more than 350 million will attest. When he sings Misty he could melt an iceberg.
He was the first artist to release a “greatest hits” album, pioneering the concept in 1958. At 78 and almost 60 years after winning his first recording contract he is still selling out concert venues and is due in the UK for three dates in April to the delight of his many fans here. “The British are very loyal. Once you’re a success in Britain you’re a success for life,” he says.
He has sung for presidents (Reagan, Clinton) and royalty (Prince Charles, Princess Diana). His CV is undeniably illustrious. He should be cock-of-the-walk confi-dent but he does not come across that way. “As a child all I knew was that people kept asking me to sing and because I liked to please I would sing. It wasn’t until my dad told me that my singing made him happy that I began to think my voice might be good.” When was that? “When I was about 23.”
Yet as far as the music industry was concerned, his talent had been blazingly obvious for some years. Mathis was 19 when he was discovered by jazz producer George Avakian who immediately sent a telegram to Columbia Records stating: “Have found phenomenal 19-year-old boy who could go all the way. Send blank contracts.
By 21 Mathis had three hits under his belt, including the No 1 Chances Are and at 23 he released Johnny’s Greatest Hits, which would stay in the charts for 490 weeks. He is the longest-serving recording artist at Columbia Records. How could he ever doubt himself? “It doesn’t mean a thing when others tell you you’re good. You have to feel it yourself. I wanted to please my father. He sang so I wanted to sing too. So when he said he liked to hear me sing, that really pleased me. For me hearing my voice is sometimes a little nauseating, especially at Christmas.” Mathis has released eight Christmas albums and his single When A Child Is Born has been a hardy Christmas perennial ever since it went to No 1 in 1976.
OUR interview takes place at 9am Los Angeles time but he has been up since 4.30am to go to the gym and then shop for and prepare his dinner before heading out to the golf course. He introduces himself as John Mathis, saying: “When I was very young it was all, ‘Here’s little Johnny’ and I got stuck with it but I prefer John. There comes a time in a man’s life when he shouldn’t have a name ending in ‘y’.”
He got into the habit of rising early during several stays in hospital after surgery on his foot, his back and to replace both hips and knees. The wear and tear is due as much to his early years as a star athlete as his advancing age.
Mathis was the top sportsman at his high school in San Francisco, excelling at the high jump, hurdles and basketball. He progressed to San Francisco State College intending to become an English and PE teacher. The high jump record he set there was only two inches short of the Olympic record.
At the same time he was developing a remarkable singing talent. His parents Clem and Mildred were in domestic service but Clem was a frustrated musician, having worked briefly as a singer and piano player in their native Texas. Of the seven Mathis offspring only Johnny, the fourth child, shared his interest.
When Johnny was eight Clem bought an upright piano for $25. It wouldn’t fit through the door so Clem, watched by Johnny, spent all night dismantling it then reassembling it in the small basement living room. Soon Johnny was singing wherever he could, in church, at school, at social events and to entertain visitors to the family home. When he was 13 his father arranged for him to have lessons from a professional voice teacher in exchange for doing odd jobs for her around the house. After studying with her for six years and singing in jazz clubs at weekends he faced a dilemma. Columbia Records wanted him to travel to New York for his first recording session. At the same time he was asked to try out for the US athletics team for the 1956 Olympics in Melbourne.
In the end music won. His first album Johnny Mathis: A New Sound In Popular Song was jazzbased and sold only moderately well. Vice-president of Columbia Records Mitch Miller suggested switching to ballads and the Johnny Mathis sound – soft, romantic with lush orchestration – was born. Not that ballads would necessarily be his first choice now.
“Years ago I went to Brazil and fell in love with it. I really like the music, samba, bossa nova, the language and the people. I’ve recorded in Portuguese too. I didn’t set out to just sing ballads or romantic songs.” He was thrilled when his country album Let It Be Me – Mathis In Nashville was nominated for a Grammy in 2011. He is one of only five artistes who have had hits in every decade of their career. But like many more he was not immune to career-wrecking perils, including falling under the spell of Dr Max Jacobson. Dubbed Dr Feelgood the German became notorious for administering “miracle tissue regenerator” injections which contained amphetamines.
“I went to see him because I was doing five shows a night at the Copacabana in New York and got laryngitis. Everyone on Broadway went to him and so did the Kennedys. He gave me vitamin shots which brought my voice back beautifully but left me with a drug addiction. It was very traumatic but I just had to stop. I also drank too much, only champagne, and I never thought too much about it until I was talking to Nancy Reagan at a reception and she asked if I always drank so much. I said yes and she said, ‘Well, don’t you think it’s bad for you?’ and I said, ‘Yes, but I don’t know how to stop.’ The next thing I know she collared the Chief of Staff and I’m on a plane to a rehab facility.
I stayed three weeks and I haven’t drunk since. That was 30 years ago.”
Has it been hard not to succumb again? “I had a good reason to stop. When everything in your life revolves around performing, anything that detracts from that frightens you because it will take away what you love most.”
After he revealed that he was gay in 1982 Mathis received death threats. “A few people in the Southern states didn’t like it. I was in no real danger but when you’re young it’s difficult to get over. It doesn’t bother me at all now and it’s not even a big deal any more which is wonderful but I learned to isolate myself from negative things.” Including racism? “Once in a while but then people get used to you. I’ve been shielded from most of it. I’m lucky because others paved the way before me.”
He credited Deniece Williams with “saving my career” after she duetted with him in 1978 on the chart-topping Too Much, Too Little, Too Late and he has collaborated with Dionne Warwick and his heroine Lena Horne. “She was the most gorgeous, enigmatic, provocative woman I’ve ever seen. I used to hang around at her concerts when I was a kid and after a while her husband started inviting me to her dressing room. I was probably bothersome to her but her husband was kind. He could see I was infatuated.”
Leave a Reply