He was a nice guy.

And many of our musical heroes are not.

By time the Beatles hit… Neil Sedaka was in the rearview mirror. And if you were of a certain age, and I mean young, you were clueless as to his success, which peaked in 1962, with “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do.”

I’d never heard of him. But he was the featured performer at the Concord Hotel when we stayed there in February 1965.

That wasn’t the original plan. But our ski vacation in December had been rained out, and my parents didn’t want to take that risk again. I whined, but they told me there was a ski area there that some friend of theirs said was more than adequate, actually good.

That didn’t turn out to be the case. It was small, with two t-bars, and so flat that I could go down straight without turning, but this is not a story about skiing.

Now at this point the heyday of the Catskills is long gone. But there were full-service hotels, originally catering to Jews, with plentiful food and plentiful activities. You could order whatever you wanted in the dining room, the menu was just a starting point. And at night…

There was entertainment.

You sat at these long banquet tables, and the defining feature was these little mallets…

Well, imagine a ten inch stick with a wooden sphere the size of a golf ball at the end… This is what you used to applaud, rather than clap your hands, you banged the balls on the table. Really.

And my father couldn’t help talking about the appearance of Neil Sedaka, who he called “sebaka,” which he said was Russian for “dog.” Was this true? There was no internet back then to check.

And I must say I went to the show reluctantly. I didn’t need to see some sappy crooner. But what else was I going to do with the time.

But Neil was energetic, he sang his hits like they were just written yesterday. I can still see him on stage, and thereafter whenever I heard his songs on the radio I smiled, I felt a personal connection.

And there were two….

“I love, I love, I love my calendar girl”

But even better was “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do,” a veritable masterpiece of composition, with changes that endeared themselves to you.

It’s the bridge that seals the deal:

“They say that breaking up is hard to do

Now I know, I know that it’s true

Don’t say that this is the end

Instead of breaking up I wish that we were making up again”

It’s like he stopped the song, looked aside and had a personal conversation with the object of his affection. And the way he squeezes all those words into the last line, it was delicious.

Now what followed, the Beatles, the British Invasion, was very different from today. There was melody and changes. Not quite the puppy love of what had come before, then again, the Liverpool Lads’ first hit was “I Want to Hold Your Hand.”

But the Beatles were revolutionary, and one of the reasons was that they wrote their own songs, unlike most of their immediate predecessors. Then again, unlike most of his contemporaries, Neil Sedaka wrote the songs he sang too, he was a cut above.

Now most of the pre-Beatle acts were wiped out. And it looked for a long while that Neil Sedaka was ancient history too. Carole King emerged from the background to become a piano player in James Taylor’s band, and then a superstar as a solo act with the best-selling “Tapestry.” But she was an anomaly, the Brill Building was in the rearview mirror.

And then…

Elton John is passionate about not only his music, but that of others. He’s a student of the game, he’s embedded in the scene, even as it changes.

Now Bruce Springsteen brought back Gary U.S. Bonds for a minute, who had a mild hit and then promptly returned to obscurity. But before that, Elton John signed Neil Sedaka to his Rocket Records and the result was two number one records. Neil was back! He was on all the music television shows of the era. He looked like he’d jetted right in from the fifties, he didn’t glam up, he might wear a sweater, but basically he appeared the same as he ever was.

But that was good enough, because he was great.

I mean if you can sing, write and play….

But then Neil bit the hand that fed him. He thought Elton needed to pay him more money. And the resulting rift led him to leave the label and ultimately have no more hits.

And Neil regretted this. But such is the music business, you’re almost always flying blind, you don’t know whether your decisions are the proper ones. And in truth, musicians have been ripped-off from time immemorial. And in Sedaka’s earlier era, this was truly prevalent. But let this be a lesson to you, to be willing to leave some money on the table. If you’re greedy, oftentimes you’re left out.

So Neil never had another hit, but… He’d made it again in the modern era, people knew who he was, he was never forgotten, he was part of the firmament. He wasn’t just a feature in the Dead Sea Scrolls of the pre-Beatle era, he’d earned his rep, people knew who he was and knew his hits and…

Of course he wrote “Love Will Keep Us Together,” a gigantic hit for Captain & Tennille in 1975 and…

The seventies were different from today. The power of music was paramount. We had AM hits and FM hits and the youth knew both.

Somewhere along the line, we lost the formula. Of course, music evolves, but melody, harmony and changes are forever. But too many acts are too hip for the room today.

But Neil could do all that, as well as croon with the best of them. Used to be you had to have a good voice to have a hit, to even get a chance to record, whereas today those with imperfect vocalizations believe they’re entitled to number one records, or at least riches.

Our standards have been lowered. Everybody used to try to make it in music back in the day, but very few felt they deserved success. And those who broke through were icons.

Now Neil Sedaka lived to 86. Not a bad run. And he leaves behind all those records, but his personality, his vivacity, those have been extinguished. Neil was always smiling, always upbeat, he always had his head in the game. Sure, he believed in himself, you have to to make it. The stars are different from you and me. But Neil was both a star and human, on stage but relatable. Like us but not like us.

And his humanity and his truth shined through.

I guess I was a fan, but when I talked to him, when we did that podcast, I was truly won over. Sure, he was proud of his story, of his achievements, but he had no airs, he truly wanted to connect, which is the essence of a great song, you feel it in your heart, it resonates.

More legendary musicmakers are going to die soon. Many are in their eighties. But to a great degree, Neil Sedaka was sui generis. He was not of the rock era, but before. But then he triumphed when the longhairs were dominating the airwaves.

Like I said, Neil had a pretty good run, but his death left me queasy… Not quite like a family member passing, but something akin to that. It was kind of personal. Maybe because he was so alive.

And now he’s dead.

But the tunes live on.

And that’s the power of music.