“Spring was never waiting for us girl
It ran one step ahead as we followed in the dance”
Weird Al Yankovic has spoofed it, and a humor columnist once called it the worst song to ever hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. Still, despite being recorded and released several years before I made my debut in the world, “MacArthur Park” has been a favorite of mine since the first time I heard it.
But let’s be honest: This song became a hit because of the criminally underrated Jimmy Webb, not because of Richard Harris – and certainly not because of Donna Summer. Webb wrote and produced “MacArthur Park” as part of Harris’ debut album, A Tramp Shining. His arrangements throughout the LP are lush and beautiful, a production style which gave the music plenty of room to breathe and resonate. Still, none of the other tracks shone as brightly as “MacArthur Park.”
Anyone who has ever experienced the true gut-wrenching pain of heartache of love lost and/or unrequited can relate to Jimmy Webb’s rather unusual lyrics comparing lost love to a cake melting in the rain. When the pain of heartache is that acute, anything and everything can remind one of the lost love — no matter how tenuous that connection may seem to others looking on. Yes, even a cake melting in the rain.
What makes the song work is the specificity of the lyrics. If we’ve had and lost love, we know what it’s like to remember those minute details. While we may not be able to relate to Webb’s details specifically, we can relate to the total recall we experience in the throes of heartache. We can relate to what it’s like to remember the details so specifically.
We can relate to that initial feeling that the love that was lost was the one that got away. That pain fades over time and we regain the capacity to love. Those of us who are lucky enough find a way to find love again. “MacArthur Park” is a snapshot of a moment of time — that moment of fresh heartache immediately after a love is lost.
One almost wants to buy Richard Harris or Jimmy Webb a drink and tell them, “Buck up, little trouper! It’ll all get better in time.” But “MacArthur Park” is that snapshot in time where the pain of love lost is so acute one feels he or she will never recover and find love again.
No, you’ll never have that recipe again: You’ll find a better one and bake a better cake, next time around.
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