Dionne Warwick had a rocky start at Scepter Records. As a child in New Jersey, she sang with her family’s gospel band, which also included her aunt, Cissy Houston; as a teenager, she recorded back-up vocals for Brook Benton, Solomon Burke, and Ben E. King. During a session for the Drifters’ “Mexican Divorce,” she impressed the song’s co-writer Burt Bacharach enough that he hired her to sing demos to shop around to other artists. “Forget the song, get the singer,” marveled the head of Scepter, Florence Greenberg. But the newcomer had to fight to get good material, and when she heard someone on the radio singing a song that was promised to her, she exploded. She recounts the scene in her 2010 memoir, My Life, As I See It: “I reminded them of the promise they made to me. ‘We have a problem here. You want me to record with you? I am who I am. Don’t make me over, man!’ In other words, don’t lie to me or tell me one thing and do something else.”
That choice of words—don’t make me over, man!—inspired Bacharach and Hal David to pen what would become her first single, 1962’s “Don’t Make Me Over.” It’s an anthem of self-determination, with pleading lyrics from David and an arrangement from Bacharach that balances drama and sophistication. But it’s Warwick who makes the song: Just 21 at the time, she delivers a measured performance, drawing on her gospel background when she gets to the big finish: “Accept me for what I am!” A rousing introduction to an artist whose eloquent vocals would define the 1960s, the song was a hit, peaking at number 21 on the charts. But there was a problem: Her name was misspelled on the label of the 45. Ironically, the woman born Dionne Warrick was made over into Dionne Warwick.
Thus began her decade-long run on Scepter, during which she recorded mostly songs written, arranged, and produced by Bacharach and David. The Complete Scepter Singles, which gathers 74 A- and B-sides from this era, is an ideal starting point with Warwick and with ’60s pop in general. Her songwriters already had a reputation for sophisticated pop fare, and this young woman from New Jersey was, with apologies to Dusty Springfield and Elvis Costello and others, the best voice for those songs. Warwick gracefully navigates Bacharach’s tricky melodies and progressions and brings life to David’s lyrics of yearning and doubt. Her performances marry technical precision with artistic flair, always hinting at massive currents of emotion running just under the surface. While not an actor per se, she embodies a sense of character, with the understanding that the song is just one scene in a larger story: a snapshot of a moment of uncertainty or a swell of love within a larger life.