“It’s Only Make Believe”: A Crooner’s Homage to Unrequited Love and Enduring Hope
Ah, dear friends, settle in, won’t you? Let’s take a little stroll down memory lane, back to a time when country music had that certain heartfelt ache, a soulful yearning that just seemed to resonate deep within your bones. Today, we’re casting our minds back to 1987, to a rendition of a song that, while a classic in its own right, found new life and meaning through the voice of a man who knew a thing or two about paying tribute: Ronnie McDowell. His take on “It’s Only Make Believe”, originally a monumental hit for the legendary Conway Twitty, managed to climb to a respectable Number 8 on the Billboard Country charts and Number 5 on the Canadian Country charts. It was featured on his album, “I’m Still Missing You”, and what made this particular version so special, so utterly unforgettable for many of us, was the remarkable fact that Conway Twitty himself contributed to it, lending his iconic growl to the final verse. Imagine that – a true passing of the torch, or perhaps, a shared embrace of a timeless sentiment.
Now, the story behind “It’s Only Make Believe” is as fascinating as the song itself, born from the fertile minds of Conway Twitty and his drummer, Jack Nance, during a tour across Ontario, Canada, in 1958. Legend has it that the song sprang forth almost spontaneously, some say in a mere seven minutes during a concert intermission, others while Twitty sat on a fire escape. Whatever the exact moment of its genesis, it became Twitty’s first chart-topping hit, soaring to Number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 that very year and becoming a hit in 22 countries. It’s a testament to the song’s enduring power that its initial release even had some Elvis Presley fans convinced it was The King himself singing under a different name – a remarkable compliment indeed!
At its heart, “It’s Only Make Believe” is a poignant lament of unrequited love, a whispered confession of a dream that exists only in the mind of the singer. It speaks to that universal human experience of loving someone with every fiber of your being, wishing for a future with them, while painfully aware that their feelings don’t mirror your own. The lyrics paint a picture of a love that outwardly might appear reciprocated – “People see us everywhere, they think you really care” – but the singer knows the truth: “But myself I can’t deceive, I know it’s only make believe.” It’s a prayer, a desperate hope that “some day you’ll care,” a yearning for a “wedding ring” and a life given over completely, yet always circling back to that heartbreaking refrain: “But it’s only make believe.”
For those of us who came of age with these melodies, Ronnie McDowell’s rendition carried a unique weight. He was, of course, famously known for his vocal and visual resemblance to Elvis, having even sung for Elvis TV movies. But with “It’s Only Make Believe”, he wasn’t simply mimicking; he was interpreting, infusing the song with his own profound understanding of its emotional core. When Twitty’s voice blends with McDowell’s in that later part of the song, it’s more than just a musical collaboration; it’s a bridge across generations of country music, a shared narrative of longing and the quiet resilience of hope. It evokes a feeling of looking back at past loves, at moments when our hearts were laid bare, and perhaps, acknowledging that some dreams, however vivid, remain just that – make-believe. But even in that wistful acknowledgement, there’s a certain beauty, a shared humanity in the yearning that makes this song resonate still, like a long-lost letter rediscovered, brimming with unspoken truths.