Chris2fer

Listen to and download the songs here.

In 1992 I arrived at Eastern Nazarene College (RIP) as an eighteen-year-old freshman. I was wildly optimistic, brimming with enthusiasm, and boldly naive. I was certain I was finally beginning my life. I would discover new ideas, new people, and a fuller version of myself. Oh, the exquisite foolishness of being eighteen. So confident in everything, and so mistaken about most of it.

Those years gave me a handful of friendships that mattered, the kind that shape you quietly and permanently. Friends who helped build me, guide me, and laugh with me when nothing else would do. Among the most extraordinary of these almost-mythical creatures was a young woman named Adrienne.

Adrienne was boisterous and beautiful, talented and tempestuous, smart and sassy and silly. She filled rooms. She bent the air around her. I adored her immediately and without reservation.

We did what all college kids do. We stayed up too late and studied too little (never an issue for her; she was, and remains, genuinely brilliant). We ate too much and yet nothing of substance at all. We bonded fiercely and tragically, and stumbled about through the awkward process of becoming. What a time.

An anecdote to illustrate our friendship: One afternoon, half-listening to Professor Yerxa, I doodled in my notebook a woman in a scandalously tight low-cut gown, slit high, perched on five-inch heels. Adrienne saw it, took it, and later when we attended our junior-senior dance she became it. She wore the dress. She wore the heels. I’m fairly certain she lost all feeling in her toes that night, but damn girl – you looked good.

For reference, here is Joe in those shoes. Hi Jose. Miss you, pal. Hope you still occassionally rock a heel.

There are so many things that Adie and I bonded over. Schoolhouse Rock (Lucretia!), Acapella, piano, theater, Cove, warm nights, soft music, and laughter and tears and wonder. And Barry Manilow.

Adie asked me to record some Barry songs in 2021. It took a few months but I eventually delivered on the promise. Here, I have updated these songs to make some corrections, added in some new lines, re-mastered a few, and added 3 new ones.

A few shout-outs while reminiscing about Adie and college:

• To Cheryl and Mike — thank you for quietly showing me what I wanted a home to be. Lazy Sunday mornings. Jazz drifting through the kitchen. Bagels with hummus. An open door, an easy laugh, and a sense that nothing needed to be rushed. Your house taught me about vibes before I knew that word mattered.
• To Chad — you were my primary Manilow evangelist, my go-to guy for all things Barry. I hope life has been kind to you, my friend. And I sincerely hope the Brian May hair is still alive and well, defying time and gravity.
• Joe — thank you for putting up with my gay ass, for surviving my melodramatic tantrums, and for not once pushing me down the stairs when it might have felt justified. That’s love, brother. Truly.
• Adie and Cheryl — please let your parents know that it is entirely their fault that Funions now appear on my antipasto platters. Their influence runs deep and salty.
• And Hubert — Adie told me you listen to my Manilow album, and I cannot properly express what that means to me. Knowing those songs found their way into your world is a quiet joy I’ll carry for a long time.

Liner NOtes

* This is the proper order for this album, contrary to what I sent along a few years ago.

This One’s For You

• This song opens the album because the album itself has only one destination: you. It is the overture, the quiet lifting of the curtain, a reflection on love remembered and happiness once held close. There is sweetness here, and ache too. The ache that only time can give, when joy lingers long after the moment has passed.

Could It Be Magic

• It begins in classical stillness, a lone piano tracing its way forward, then slowly gathers itself—layer upon layer—like an ‘80s Air Supply anthem finding its wings. The song swells toward its inevitable crescendo, only to return home again, quietly, to where it began. This is Manilow at his most assured, a standard by every measure. I loved living inside the chorus, stacking voices and letting them bloom, marveling all over again at the elegant, daring chord changes Barry built into its heart.

I Write The Songs

• Let’s be clear from the outset: I do not, in fact, write the songs. I sing the songs. I also have not been alive forever – though a few of my younger friends may disagree. And as for making young girls cry… let us agree never to speak of that.
• Despite the title (and popular assumption), Barry Manilow did not, in fact, write this song. That honor belongs to Bruce Johnston of the Beach Boys, who explained that the “I” in the lyric is not a person at all, but music itself—an eternal, omnipresent force moving through us all. OK, hippie.

Weekend In New England

• This is one of my favorites not only because of the Manilow-build-up, but also because “Weekend in New England” will forever mean a college weekend when all we had was that golden autumn time and each other. And the ocassional iced coffee.

I Made It Through The Rain

• I’ve always heard this as Barry’s quiet anthem to being different. Maybe this is an interpretation of my own making, but it is one I hold to. It feels like a song written from inside misunderstanding, from the long walk taken alone before discovering others on the same road. At its heart, it’s about resilience: weathering life, trusting your own voice, and finding strength where you didn’t know it lived. In that, it belongs to all of us.

Ready To Take A Chance Again

• This is not one of my favorite Manilow songs, but it was a hit for him and I felt that I needed to do it. It speaks of healing from past broken love and emerging from the dullness of depressive existence. Wee!

Can’t Smile Without You

• Adie, when asking for a few Manilow songs, specifically said “Not any of the cheerful ones.”. Whoops, I like happy songs.
• This song, while cheerful, really leans into the emotional dependence that the singer if feeling. “I can’t smile without you.”. …yikes. You need a hobby.

Daybreak

• Another cheerful one, this song reminds me of the 70s in the best way. I picture sunny Saturdays in the park (shout out to Chicago) and bell bottoms and potted geraniums and head scarves. Bold prints and macrame. Mustaches.

Even Now

• Yearning for a lost love despite having a wonderful life now is such a mood. If you have ever wanted to just reach out and say hello to someone who was once your everyday is universal, I think. I truly love this song.

Looks Like We Made It

• This is the one song that I basically re-recorded as I was listening to the version I sent along in 2021 and yowzers I was flat. Fixed it.
• The true meaning of this song seems to be missed by some folks. The singer is talking to a past lover. It is through this re-connection that he realizes that they finally made love work. Just not with each other.

Somewhere In The Night

• There’s no doubt that this is about the first night that these two people have spent together. I’ll play you over and over again? Closing our eyes and feeling the light? Also, you wont sleep until the morning comes. Ok, Barry, you horndog.

When October Goes

• This is my favorite Manilow song. It was written by Johnny Mercer but was unfinished when he died. His widow sent it to Barry and he set it to music for his 1984 (genius) jazz album “2:00 a.m. Paradise Cafe”.
• This is one of the most evocative songs I have ever sung. I feel the yearning for lost childhood and innocence and how the sky in our memories always seems to be perpetually twilight. The line “I should be over it now, I know.” is perfect.

All The Time

• This is the second song that you cannot tell me isnt about being gay.
  • All the time I thought – there’s only me, crazy in a way that no one else could be.
  • All the time i thought that I was wrong. Wanting to be me, but needing to belong.
• See? This song is relevant to my own experience. Love it.

Mandy

• This is arguably Barry’s most famous song (with Copacabana). Weirdly, it was initially called Brandy but Looking Glass came out with their “Brandy” (amazing song as well) and Manilow changed it. This was super fun to record.

Bonus Songs – 2026

Even Now (Live)

• In February 2023 I had a concert at Merril Auditorium in Portland that was a mixture of Manilow and a few Broadway standards. It was called “Christopher, Live”. I almost sold out the room. It was scary but such a thrill.
• This was one of my favorites to perform, and was dedicated to Adrienne herself, for obvious reasons.

Could It Be Magic (House Dance Mix)

• Who could resist a dance remix? Not me.

Copacabana (House Dance Mix)

• I just couldn’t imagine skipping this song again. It is so cheesy but it is a well crafted story song, which I love. I did add a modulation, because of course I did.