Bertie Higgins Sails Away to Key Largo


If you've ever been in a dentist office waiting room, you've undoubtedly heard the soft-rock strains of the infectious hit "Key Largo." You know the one: "We had it all/Just Like Bogie and Bacall." As you sit there reading this, you KNOW you're humming it. It's OK... we won't tell.

What you may not know is that the crooner responsible for this great slice of 80s pop is not who you might expect. Most people assume it's the sultry voice of Kenny Rogers, Kris Kristofferson or some other wily, bearded singer. Not a chance. Mr. Rogers would never lower himself to writing a sappy, melodramatic ball of cheese later heard in elevators! OK, maybe he would, but that's not the point. The point is, that "Key Largo" is the work of none other than one Bertie Higgins.

Bertie who? To this day, the singer himself might actually ask that same question about himself. Mr. Higgins had a fairly forgettable career in the 70's as a member of the band "the Roemans"-- an amusing  play on words, considering the lead was some guy named Roe. After that band broke up (we're guessing that it wasn't because they were TOO successful), Mr. Higgins moved back home to Florida, where he churned out a few albums that no one ever heard of. However, all that changed in 1982.

Don't call it a comeback! In '82, Higgins released a dripping-with-cheese soft rock album called "Another Day in Paradise." A cross between Jimmy Buffett, post-1980 Doobie Brothers and 1,000 packets of sweet-n-low, the album was anchored by a song about living in a 1940s movie. That song was "Key Largo."

Ah, Key Largo. "We had it all," the song says. And for a brief moment in time (and many Musak tapes throughout time), Bertie Higgins had it all. The song hit 8 on the pop singles chart, and a dazzling number 1 on the adult contemporary charts. The lyrics were indicative of a strange obsession Higgins had with 1940s films. (Another song on the album is called "Casablanca."). Unfortunately, the pop landscape of the early 80s didn't have a long-term appetite for 1940s-based songs.

The fickle 80s didn't keep Higgins around for too long. By the time he released his second single from the album, Bertie was fading from the public consciousness faster than Michael Dukakis. By the late 80s, Bertie's claim to fame was simply being a strange visual amalgam of Michael McDonald and Dan Fouts.

In 1994, Higgins released a feeble attempt at a best-of CD, but it was much too late. (Plus, CDs are usually more than one track, unless you're King Crimson). C'est la vie, Bertie. The 80s giveth and then they taketh it away. But for a brief moment in time, Bertie Higgins "had it all." Here's hoping he had as much groupie sex as humanly possibly while it--and his awesome beard--lasted.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

And What of Chess King?

Image
It's been said that the 80's were the decade of excess, and that was never more true in than in the explosion of specialty clothing stores on the retail landscape at the time. And while some of those stores survived until today, many fell to the fickle, stinging blade of the retail industry due to poor management and an overall lack of understanding fashion trends. One shining example of this fate was Chess King. For the uninitiated, Chess King was NOT a store for chess players or chess aficionados. Nor was it a store specializing in clothing WORN by chess players. In fact, one could say that anyone shopping at Chess King probably lacked the intelligence to play a game of Chess, but that's neither here nor there. The store was a specialty clothing outlet that sold men's and women's lines of "faux-upscale" 80's designer wear. More specifically, the cheesiest, sleaziest, ugliest and most eye-searing 80's clothes you could possibly find. Velc...
Read more

Tomy's Handheld Pac Man: A Forgotten Gem

Image
The 1980's spawned dozens of versions of the iconic arcade classic Pac Man: From mini-arcade tabetop, to home video game system, to electronic game watch. Some versions were way more popular than others, but each had it's own distinct charm. For example: While Coleco made the definitive tabletop/electronic iteration, there were quite a few handheld competitors that were pretty fun too. And, if you were one of the kids who had the "friend" who had the Coleco, you most certainly got attached to another version, usually out of jealousy. In 1981, Tomy released a version of the classic maze game called "TomyTronic Pac Man." This version was distinctive for several reasons: First of all, it had a striking, bright yellow circular casing that screamed Pac Man. The game screen itself was rather small compared to the size of the unit, but it was fairly bright and colorful. Lastly--and oddly--Pac Man could only actually EAT the dots (or "bait" as the ...
Read more

Trapper Keeper: Mead's Answer to the Swiss Army Knife

Admit it: There was always a tiny spec of excitement you used to feel when heading out that day to buy your fresh, new school supplies every September. Sure, the feelings of dread, impending humiliation, exclusion and forced conformity took center stage when labor day rolled around, but a quick trip to Woolworth's or K-Mart would ease that pain for a moment. Of course, most of what you'd buy would become instantly obsolete: Multi-colored ball point pens, laminated college-themed book covers and that uber-geek pencil holder you'd never use. Amidst all those pencil-top erasers, translucent rulers and paint pens, the one central anchor of every school supply shopping list was the notebook and/or binder. Enter the Mead Trapper Keeper. In the early 80's, the Trapper Keeper was the Rolls Royce of binders. Forget that spiral bound crap, or that cromagnon denim-coated notebook, the Trapper was state of the art: A large, vinyl/plastic holder that folded open to reveal several ...
Read more