Clive Davis, one of the most influential figures in the history of the music industry, died on Monday at the age of 94, inspiring a wave of tributes throughout the entertainment industry.
Among those who described him as a friend and mentor was prolific songwriter Diane Warren, who worked closely with Davis for over 40 years, writing hits for the likes of Toni Braxton, Whitney Houston and Milli Vanilli to name a few. Earlier Monday, she likened Davis’ death to the loss of her father. Talk more with THRWarren recalled the beginnings of her friendship with Davis, the lessons she learned and why “there will never be anything like it again.”
Clive was family. Obviously not by blood, but we create our families. In my heart it was family. I wrote it in this post, but especially the day after Father’s Day, I felt like I had lost my father, or another father. It was very difficult because it wasn’t just that we had a lot of success together and did a lot of work together.
I wouldn’t have the career I have now if it weren’t for Clive Davis, and I’m not the only one. There are many of us, many great artists, who owe everything to this man. From the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, etc., that’s 70 years of artists’ creativity. And many different types. Janis Joplin, Carlos Santana, Bruce Springsteen, Whitney Houston.
The crazy thing is that he started out as a lawyer. He was not a man of musical training, and yet he had an ear—a natural talent—that no one would ever have. I have to witness it myself. I go to play a song for him, and I see that he gets so emotional hearing a song with tears in his eyes, there is no one like him anymore.
Too many executives today don’t listen, they watch. They look at the numbers. They look at Spotify streams, they look at TikTok numbers, they look at all the things that don’t really matter. All that matters is how it makes you feel, and what strikes you in the heart.
Yesterday I was talking to someone in a senior position at a large music company and he told me: “We had a meeting for this company and in three days, we listened to one song.” I’m like, “Oh my God, is this it?” It’s sad. It’s not the way it’s supposed to be. Clive, he just got it. It wasn’t one type of artist or one type of song. If it affected him, he knew it would affect others, and most of the time he was right.
I trusted his opinion when he liked the song. I didn’t trust him when he didn’t do it. (He laughs). No, I trusted him. Sometimes I would play something that I wasn’t sure whether he would like it or not. Sometimes I would play something I thought he would like and he didn’t. But he was always honest. If he said someone was writing a song and it came out as a single, that would happen. It wasn’t like they had to test it and do all that other stuff. I like the fact that he trusted his instincts, and they were right. You can’t argue with success, and the guy has been successful since day one.
I think I met him just before Rhythm of the Night, and I played him a bunch of songs. He didn’t like any of it, and I was really upset because I’d grown up reading his first book; Inside the business register. I’ve studied everything. I was going to be a songwriter, and Clive Davis was on Mount Rushmore when I was a kid. I knew I had to meet Clive Davis. Finally I met Clive and he didn’t like the music. But then I came back, because I always come back. He liked some of those other songs.
We have become good friends too. Two of those 17 Oscar losses, Clive was my buddy. I took it when I was nominated for ‘Because You Loved Me’ from Up close and personalthat was a song I wrote mainly to thank my father for believing in me. I remember saying to Clive: ‘I really want you to go because you’re like my father.’
I thought I was going to win that year. I went with Clive and he was trying to cheer me up, so he said, “Let’s go to Jerry’s Deli.” We went there, and I ate three servings of french fries to ease my pain. There were so many great times I had with Clive. One time, I had a meeting with him and I told him I couldn’t get there before ten to five because I had a therapy appointment. He started cracking up because he thought I said I was in therapy from 10am to 5am. “I know you’re crazy, Dee,” he said, “but you need this much therapy every day?
[My first song he took] Maybe it was something from Air Supply. And there was a lot more after that. I would come and bring him Whitney songs, she was their biggest artist. I always wanted to be on her records, and he’d say, “No, it’s not by Whitney, it’s by this other artist, Taylor Dayne.” I would say, “I don’t want Taylor Dayne, I want Whitney.” But then Taylor did “Love Will Lead You Back” and it was a number one record. Or there was “I will be your refuge.”
I would play him something else that I thought was Whitney and he would say, “No, I have this Exposé group,” and that was “I’ll Never Get Over You.” I think I probably played “Un-Break My Heart” for Whitney too. “No, I have an artist named Toni Braxton and I want this song for him.”
I had a song by this group called The Jets. I kept it for a year and they told me they wouldn’t do it. I decided I was going to see Clive in New York because I knew it was a hit record. He played Milli Vanilli. He played “Girl You Know It’s True,” and I thought it sounded like my song “Blame It on the Rain.” It became one of my biggest hits ever. I’ll have some Whitney songs too.
He taught me that it’s all about the song, it starts with a song. I already knew that, but the fact that someone who runs a record label knows that and respects that and respects the songs and the songwriters, that was big.
Genius, passionate, brilliant, kind. He was a good man. He was a family man. He loved his family and took care of people. We lost the greatest music man of all time today. And no one will ever, ever, ever come close to a tenth of what He has done.
