Rod McKuen: songwriter, recording artist, poet, author, and actor. In 1972, he was the best-selling author in America and the best-selling poet in history. He had over 60 gold and platinum records. Artists like Frank Sinatra, Johnny Cash, and Nina Simone recorded his songs.
According to Barry Alfonso’s biography A Voice of the Warm: The Life of Rod McKuen, McKuen was associated with the San Franciso Beat Poetry Scene, the dance craze The Twist, the Great American Songbook School of Pop, New Age environmental recordings, and twentieth-century classical music. He was a real-life Zelig, yet today, he’s forgotten.
What happened to him? Why did he disappear from the public eye? Let’s take a deep dive into Rod McKuen’s fascinating life and times and explore the reasons behind his meteoric rise to fame and subsequent fall from grace.
- Rod McKuen’s Early Life
- McKuen’s Early Career
- His Big Break: Seasons in the Sun
- Rod McKuen Poems: Stanyon Street & Other Sorrows
- McKuen’s Career Peak
- His Even Bigger Break: Terry Jack’s Cover of Seasons in the Sun
- Just Some of the Things Rod McKuen’s is Famous For
- Rod McKuen: Always the Hustler
- He Loved His Fans
- The King of Kitsch
- McKuen’s Sexuality
- What Happened to Rod McKuen?
- When Did Rod McKuen Die?
Rod McKuen’s Early Life
Rod McKuen was born in 1933 as an illegitimate child to a single mother named Clarice Woolever in Oakland, California. The mystery of his father’s identity was always shrouded in secrecy, leaving Rod to piece together the puzzle of his origins. In his captivating book, Finding My Father, he recounts the emotional journey of his search to uncover the truth about his father. Despite his efforts, he could be only partially sure.
His early home life was grim. His mother married a violent, hard-drinking man who had no interest in raising someone else’s child. Rod became a victim of physical and sexual abuse from his stepfather and other family members. The family was destitute, constantly moving from one unstable living situation to another.
Rod retreated into a world of imagination and storytelling to escape from his harsh reality. He spun tales about his “real dad” and created other fictions about his life.
McKuen’s Early Career
As he grew older, Rod continued exaggerating his achievements. Many of his supposed accomplishments, such as performing at a Kennedy state dinner, could never be verified.
This newswire puff piece, almost certainly put out by Rod to hype his beginning acting career, says that while he was in the army, he “became a Tokyo night club star and then a leading actor in five Japanese movies!” He also had time to write songs, complete a book of poems, and be decorated by Korean President Syngman Rhee “for promoting international goodwill.” All of these supposed accomplishments almost certainly did not happen.
Nobody would have predicted any greatness for this poor kid with very little education at the beginning of his career. But Rod was a likable kid, a quick learner, and–above all–a hustler. At 16, Rod transformed a humble doorman job at a local theater into his radio show on San Francisco’s KROW.
Even at the beginning of his career, Rod diversified. Always a poetry lover, Rod began reading his poetry in San Francisco clubs alongside Beat poets like Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. He also started performing as a folk singer in local clubs, often performing his own music. He released several albums in the late 1950s. He started acting, appearing in small parts in a few movies.
In 1961, Rod had a minor hit with the song “Oliver Twist,” an interesting take on the Chubby Checker Twist dance craze that brought Charles Dickens into the mix. It only got to #76 on the Billboard Hot 100, but, showing his characteristic tenacity, McKuen released an entire album of “Oliver Twist”-themed songs. He parlayed this into extended gigs with his backing band, The Keytones.
He ruined his voice by shouting out the chorus of his dance songs night after night. From then on, he could only sing in a raspy whisper. “It sounds like I gargle with Dutch Cleanser,” he famously said.
His Big Break: Seasons in the Sun
In 1962, Rod created an unauthorized English translation of Jacques Brel’s song “Le Moribond.” Brel’s original lyrics are terse and honest (“Goodby, Antoine, I did not like you very much.”)
McKuen took a more sentimental approach. (“Adieu, Papa, please pray for me”) and retitled it “Seasons in the Sun.”
The Kingston Trio recorded the song, and Rod included his own version on an album as well. Brel heard his version and returned the favor by having a French translation of Rod’s song, “The Lovers,” on one of his albums.
Rod McKuen Poems: Stanyon Street & Other Sorrows
Ever the hustler, Rod worked with anyone he could, ensuring his name got out there. Glen Yarbrough released over a dozen albums featuring Rod’s songs, including the 1966 album The Lonely Things: The Love Songs of Rod McKuen. The album featured some poems by McKuen. The positive response encouraged Rod to self-publish a book of poetry, Stanyon Street & Other Sorrows.
The book was a surprise hit. Like McKuen himself, it shouldn’t have succeeded. It was a book of poetry, never a popular genre. It was initially sold only by mail order from a mention in the liner notes of The Lonely Things.
Rod had a friend contact bookstores in California, asking if they would carry just one or two copies of the book. The bookstores started ordering additional copies. Eventually, the book sold over 65,000 copies, unheard of for a self-published book of poetry.
McKuen’s Career Peak
Stanyon Street opened the door to the fame Rod had been seeking his whole life. His collaboration with composer Anita Kerr, The Sea, was on the Billboard charts for 143 weeks.
Random House published Rod’s next book of poems, Listen to the Warm, which contained his most famous (and probably most critically reviled) poem, “A Cat Named Sloopy.”
RCA released an album with Rod reading the poems from Listen to the Warm. Both the book and the album were hits.
By 1971, he had sold over three million volumes of poetry. He hosted a TV special on NBC and a six-episode TV series in England on the BBC.
He was one of those 70s celebrities who seemed to be everywhere: in the book store, on your record player, in the theater, on the late-night talk shows, on the game shows, and profiled in magazines.
Here’s Rod singing the hit song “Feelings” with Dolly Parton in 1976.
His Biggest Break: Terry Jack’s Cover of Seasons in the Sun
The biggest break of Rod’s career was Terry Jack’s cover of Seasons in the Sun. The song took on a special meaning for Jacks when a close friend died of leukemia.
As discussed in The Worst Songs of the 1970s (sorry, Rod), Terry tried to get the Beach Boys to cover it, but they passed, so he recorded his own version. The song sold over six million copies worldwide.
Terry Jacks added his own twist on the lyrics by rewriting the third verse. Still, in classic McKuen fashion, Rod capitalized on the song’s success by recording his own recording of the song and a Seasons in the Son poetry anthology.
Just Some of the Things Rod McKuen’s is Famous For
This is just a short list of Rod McKuen’s most famous accomplishments.
- Grammy Award winner for best-spoken word recording for his Lonesome Cities album
- His album Rod McKuen at Carnegie Hall spent 16 weeks on the Billboard Hot 100
- “Jean” — written for the film The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie — was a #2 hit for Oliver in 1969 and received an Academy Award nomination for best original song.
- McKuen also received a second Academy Award nomination for original song score for a Boy Named Charlie Brown.
- Frank Sinatra recorded an entire album of Rod McKuen songs, A Man Alone.
- One of McKuen’s translations of a Jacques Brels song, “If You Go Away,” has been recorded by Glen Campbell, Neil Diamond, Dusty Springfield, and Cindy Lauper.
- He was awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for his recordings.
- He was (and I have no more information about this surprising fact) the voice of Archimedes in both the movie and the T.V. Series for The Little Mermaid.
Rod McKuen: Always the Hustler
Even with his success, he remained a hustler. He took advantage of his name recognition by churning out small gift books written by other people and heavy on illustrations and quotes. (One of his most popular was God’s Greatest Hits, an illustrated collection of Bible quotes.)
He listed his accomplishments in the front of his books, lest you forget. And he continued to enhance his achievements; He sold over three million books of poetry, but he consistently told reporters it was five million.
He constantly toured, telling the Chicago Tribune in 2001 that he did 280 concerts in one year. He never turned down a talk show or game show appearance.
He Loved His Fans
Rod was a beacon of hope and inspiration for his devoted fanbase for many years. His message of love and compassion resonated deeply with countless individuals who eagerly sought out any product bearing his name.
Despite his immense popularity, Rod remained humble and approachable, regularly connecting with his supporters on and off the stage. Rod understood that his fans were integral to his success and always spent time talking with anyone who came up to talk to him.
The King of Kitsch
Rod McKuen’s fans loved him, but the critics did not. Newsweek called him “The King of Kitsch,” a nickname that stuck with him throughout his career. In 1967, Time Magazine called his poetry “sweet love, lonely rooms, silent rain, quiet snow, and lost cats.”
What’s most telling is the disdain his critics showed those who loved him. It’s almost as if they looked down on anyone having an opinion different from the literate elites; for liking sweet love, lonely rooms, silent rain, quiet snow, and lost cats.
As Ephron said in her Esquire profile, “That literary critics and poets think nothing whatsoever of McKuen’s talent as a poet matters not a bit to his followers, who are willing to be as unabashedly soppy as their bard and are not, in any event, at all rigid in their distinctions between song lyrics and poetry.”
McKuen’s poetry and music may not be to everyone’s taste (and honestly, a poet as prolific as McKuen tends to turn out a lot of stuff that could be better). Still, I will say that “A Cat Named Sloopy” is tender, sweet, and beautifully written. I liked it anyway.
McKuen’s Sexuality
McKuen’s philosophy was “It doesn’t matter who you love as long as you love.”. He lived with a man named Edward Habib until the end of his life but also told reporters about a live-in girlfriend in France with whom he had two children. (This appears to have been one of his inventions.)
In 1977, Rod spoke out against Anita Bryant’s effort to repeal Dade County, Florida’s new ordinance prohibiting discrimination based on “sexual preference.” When Bryant’s spokesman referred to McKuen as a homosexual, Rod responded with, “I’ve been attracted to men, and I’ve been attracted to women . . . You put a label on me.”
What Happened to Rod McKuen?
In the end, Rod McKuen did seem to just go away. His popularity peaked in 1974 and declined throughout the 1970s. Articles about McKuen make it seem like he disappeared in the early 1980s, never to be heard from again.
That’s not entirely true. Rod released a book, An Outstretched Hand, in 1980 and made a few appearances and interviews here and there. But the years of saturating the public eye were over.
As the decade ushered in new musical and literary styles, McKuen’s sentimental poetry and music began to fall out of favor, making it more difficult for him to maintain his previous success. At the same time, he began struggling with depression (perhaps caused by his fading popularity), which took a toll on his ability to hustle as relentlessly as he had earlier in his career. He faded away from the entertainment industry.
When Did Rod McKuen Die?
Rod tried a few times to make a comeback, but the widespread market for his work no longer existed. He died in 2015 with his faithful partner Edward by his side. According to the L.A. Times obituary, the cause of death was respiratory arrest after suffering from pneumonia.
The Times obituary referred to Edward Habib as Rod’s half-brother. The master lier snuck in one lie at the very end.