Even if you think you don’t know Cliff Eberhardt’s voice, you probably know Cliff Eberhardt’s voice. That’s because back in the mid-’80s, he landed, among other advertising jobs, a gig for Chevrolet in which he belted out “The heartbeat of America,” a phrase and melody that lingered well beyond its initial run.
“I annoyed people for years in their living room!” says Eberhardt. “I did ‘just for the taste of it,’ I did McDonald’s, I did Molson beer. For a while, a lot of ads were either me, Michael Bolton, or Marc Cohn, the guy who wrote ‘Walking in Memphis.’ We’d get called in, and we’d be the three that auditioned. One of us would get it and one of the others would do backup. I’m still good friends with Marc.”
But it all dried up after a while, he says. “That all went in-house and stopped paying residuals—just flat fees.” Plus musicians fell prey to an unfortunate phenomenon: “Once they get used to your voice, you can’t really work anymore,” Eberhardt says. “You kind of get drummed out after you do a big ad.”
Eberhardt, though, had already diversified his musical portfolio. He was already part of the Greenwich Village folk scene, and well used to taking the stage armed with voice and guitar. He’s journeyed all over the place to sing his songs—when we spoke, Eberhardt was in Utah. He’ll return to the Valley this week for an Amherst show, then hit the road the next day. He also teaches at songwriting camps and colleges.
In addition, he says, “I do a lot of studio work, and I get hired as an arranger—I haven’t been dependent on just my singing and playing.”
His broad range of skills has given him a firm foothold in the music industry, but Eberhardt says, “I wouldn’t want to make it now as a beginner. It was easier when I started, because there were less people doing it. Once you establish yourself, you have an established audience, too—you can always work.”
In the last couple of years, Eberhardt has been up to something quite different from his more usual work. He appeared in The Taming of the Shrew at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, D.C., not as an actor, exactly, but more as a sort of onstage troubadour, playing material he’d composed for the show.
That job, he says, was in part the product of some good fortune. “The producer of the Folger and the director, Aaron Posner, were talking about the Shrew and happened to be listening to a CD of mine—they said, ‘Why not Cliff Eberhardt?’, and just out of the blue, they called me.”
After an interview and a few trial songs, they hired him. “They gave me a year to write songs. They put me in the show—I had to live in Washington for four months, which was wonderful. They put me up in a beautiful apartment. I had to rehearse a lot, and then do rewrites—sleep was not one of the options they gave me.”
In addition to 12 songs, Eberhardt had to deliver 64 musical cues at the right times. The Folger Shrew was set in the Old West, so Eberhardt delivered his music as the saloon singer for 110 performances.
Eberhardt’s role, he says, was an involved one. “I went on stage before the cast, and left after them. It was a lot of responsibility, particularly because of all those cues. It was a little daunting. But it was a great experience. I’ve been commissioned to write things before, but not something like this, where I really had to step outside of myself. It’s not like writing for an album at all.”
All the same, the songs did end up on an album called Shrew Songs, available at the Folger Library site and via Eberhardt at concerts. His shows usually include some of that material. “I usually do three or four from all my albums,” he says, “and I do a whole little segment of the Shrew.”
Though Eberhardt is a longtime Valley resident, it’s rare that he plays here. “I haven’t played in the Valley for six or seven years,” he says. “It’s nice to get to sleep in my own bed after a show!”•
Cliff Eberhardt plays a fundraiser for the Pioneer Valley Folklore Society Sept. 6 at 7 p.m. at the Nacul Center, 592 Main St, Amherst, (413) 256-8025, filbert.com/pvfs.
About the Pioneer Valley Folklore Society
Cliff Eberhardt’s Sept. 6 show is a fundraiser for the Pioneer Valley Folklore Society. Every month, the Society holds a Song & Story Swap at Amherst’s Nacul Center, hosted by musician and PVFS director Paul Kaplan (pictured). In October, the Swap features Art Steele, and in November, Craig Morrison.
In a recent interview, PVFS publicist Jeff Lee shared details about the storied organization.
Valley Advocate: When did PVFS start?
Jeff Lee: It was before my time—in spring of 1960, a couple of guys, Jim Rooney and Bill Keith, were approached by a Boston music producer named Manny Greenhill, and he needed an organization to help put on a concert at UMass with Odetta, so Jim and Bill bascially established the PVFS then, with the help of a few others, including Taj Mahal and Buffy Sainte-Marie, who were at UMass at the time.
And that led to more concerts?
Back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, I think it was quite active. They put on regular shows featuring pretty big names in Northampton, I think at the St. Regis for a while. There was also a weekly event, an open mic at the Iron Horse. There were occasional Song & Story Swaps at people’s homes in the Valley. They ran into some financial problems and kind of gave up the concert organization and other activities. They even had a paid folklorist on staff at one time. They got away from that and eventually—when I got involved—back in ’94—I think their only activity was the song and story swaps. They happened at the Bookmill then—Wayne Crouch led them.
From there it moved to the Black Sheep in Amherst and early in its tenure at the Black Sheep, we changed the format a little bit in an effort to improve attendance. We started bringing in a featured performer. I think one of the first Bob Blue, who was a big friend of the song and story swaps.
How does a Song & Story Swap work?
There are three rounds that happen. The first round is when everyone is invited to share a song or story or poem or anything about the night’s topic—we pick a theme each month. After that round, we have the featured performer, and then folks are invited for a final round of free-for-all sharing.
Are people who come expected to participate?
No. People are also invited to come and just listen, or even request that others do something—that’s allowed. We’ve always tried to keep it financially do-able for anybody—we pass the hat for the admission fee, and give all that to the night’s performer.
[The audience] is a mix—there are a lot of people who may be attracted by the guest performer, and people who are just curious. There’s a core group that comes pretty regularly.
Do you perform as well?
I’m strictly an amateur, but I do a little songwriting and I try to perform each month—it’s a great motivator.