“Don’t Cry Out Loud”: A Timeless Anthem of Resilience and Restraint
Ah, remember those days, when the radio was our constant companion, a soundtrack to life’s unfolding moments? It brings to mind a particular melody that, even now, can stir the quiet corners of the heart: Melissa Manchester’s enduring hit, “Don’t Cry Out Loud.” Released in October 1978 as the title track from her seventh album, this poignant ballad soared up the charts, peaking at a respectable number 10 on the Billboard Hot 100 in March 1979. It spent a remarkable twenty weeks on the Hot 100, ultimately ranking as Billboard’s 26th biggest hit of 1979, a testament to its profound impact and staying power. The album itself, also titled Don’t Cry Out Loud, climbed to number 33 on the Billboard 200, solidifying Manchester’s place as a prominent voice in the late 70s.
But the story behind this song is as rich and layered as its orchestral arrangement. Penned by the immensely talented duo of Peter Allen and Carole Bayer Sager in 1976, “Don’t Cry Out Loud” was initially a quieter, more introspective piece. Interestingly, it was Arista Records president Clive Davis who strongly urged Melissa Manchester to record it, believing her album needed a potential Top 40 comeback hit. He assigned Harry Maslin, known for his work with David Bowie, to produce the track. What emerged from the studio was far from the quiet rendition Manchester had envisioned. As she recounted, “I showed up in the studio and the cannons blew on this huge version—which turned out beautifully, it turned out as a gift.” While she initially had reservations about the song’s core message, believing it was the antithesis of the self-affirmation she and Sager often wrote about, Manchester later came to appreciate its essence: that ultimately, one must learn to cope with life’s inevitable heartbreaks. Indeed, Peter Allen himself, according to his friend Ann-Margret, lived by the philosophy of keeping feelings inside, a sentiment deeply embedded in the song’s lyrics. The “baby” referenced in the song is said to refer to Allen’s younger sister, adding another layer of personal connection to its emotional depth.
The meaning of “Don’t Cry Out Loud” resonates with a powerful, albeit sometimes debated, philosophy: the quiet resilience of enduring pain without outward display. It speaks to a certain stoicism, a generation’s understanding of fortitude and inner strength. “Baby cried the day the circus came to town / ‘Cause she didn’t want parades just passing by her,” the lyrics begin, painting a picture of vulnerability met with a resolve to maintain composure. “So she painted on a smile and took up with some clown / While she danced without a net upon the wire.” This imagery perfectly captures the act of putting on a brave face, of navigating life’s precarious stages even when your world feels like it’s crumbling. For many of us who lived through those years, this wasn’t just a song; it was an unspoken rule, a quiet directive passed down through the generations. We were taught to be strong, to carry our burdens with dignity, to keep our sorrows close, and to “learn how to hide your feelings.”
Yet, there’s a delicate balance within this message. While it champions resilience, it also subtly acknowledges the cost of such restraint. “And if you should fall / Remember you almost had it all.” This line isn’t about regret, but about perspective—a gentle reminder that even in failure, there was courage, effort, and the pursuit of something grand. It’s a bittersweet acknowledgment that sometimes, the hardest battles are fought within, and the greatest victories are simply the quiet continuation of one’s journey.
Listening to Manchester’s powerful vocals on this track, one can almost feel the collective sighs and nods of understanding from countless individuals who found solace and affirmation in its words. It wasn’t about suppressing emotion entirely, but about managing it, channeling it into a quiet strength that allowed one to face the world. In an era of grand ballads and soaring orchestrations, “Don’t Cry Out Loud” stood out for its emotional honesty, its unvarnished portrayal of a universal human experience. It became an anthem for those who believed in carrying on, even when their hearts were breaking. And even now, as the decades roll by, its message continues to whisper across the years, reminding us of the quiet power found in resilience, and the sometimes necessary art of keeping it inside.