Last year, Richard Marx and his wife, Daisy Fuentes, were drinking martinis in their living room and listening to swing music on the radio, when they heard Frank Sinatra’s version of Fly Me To The Moon.
Marx sat at his piano and tried to figure out the chords.
“The next thing I knew,” he said, “I’d written this beautiful little interlude, a ballad version with long notes.”
On his new album, After Hours, Marx delivers swinging renditions of Great American Songbook chestnuts such as Fly Me To The Moon, Summer Wind and the Gershwins’ Love Is Here To Stay, alongside originals he wrote in a similar spirit.
He recorded it live, in only three days, with a band of session pros and an orchestra.
Except for the clarity and sincerity of his tenor voice, it bears little resemblance to the soft-rocking hits he made starting in 1987, or the videos that featured him in a mullet and head-to-toe denim.
Marx, 62, is the only male artiste to have his first seven singles chart in the Top 5, with three of them reaching No.1: Hold On To The Nights, Satisfied and the perennial wedding favourite Right Here Waiting.
He’s written for a wide range of acts, including Ringo Starr, Keith Urban and Luther Vandross.
And except for having cut the mullet, he looks enviably similar to the way he did in 1987.
Yeah, to a degree. In the heyday of his career as a jazz pianist in Chicago, my dad did covers of the Great American Songbook.
But he looked down his nose at it – he thought it was beneath him. Then he took a job writing TV and radio jingles.
He started his own company and, for 25 years, was one of the biggest jingle writers in the country, all based on super poppy melodies.
My mum was a big-band singer and she sang on the commercials he wrote, which I did too, when I was a kid.
I’m sure age is part of it. When the idea came up, I’d recorded five songs with a 1970s Southern California vibe.
I had my Fleetwood Mac song, my Jackson Browne song, my J.D. Souther song.
Then my brain hijacked this idea. I’m at a point, frankly, where for better or worse, when it comes to choosing projects, my mantra is “Why the [expletive] not?”
He’s one of my best friends for 30 years. I was not a fan of his music.
But his dedication piqued my interest – he practises for three hours, every day.
We did a private show together 10 years ago in Japan, and his intonation was perfect.
He does all that showbiz, circular breathing stuff, which has entertainment value. But there’s also his tone, his choice of notes, his technique.
To a lot of people, it’s not their cup of tea.
People hated Michael Bolton’s singing, and that’s fine, but you can’t say he’s not a great singer, because that’s factually incorrect.
I wanted Kenny to play something that wasn’t what you’d expect from him.
When I sent him this super up-tempo, big-band boogie song, he said, “This is not what I normally do. Plus it’s in a lousy key for a sax player.”
He worked on it for a few days and played tenor, which he hardly ever does, and he nailed it.
We call each other bro. Or he calls me Ricardo and I call him Kenneth.
It’s a separate thing. James Taylor has a very dry personality, which doesn’t come through in his music.
The dirtiest jokes I’ve heard in my life were told to me by Kenny G and Michael Bolton.
This will sound a little pretentious, but I’ll say it anyway: My personality and my music are both authentic.
I’ve written some songs that would surprise you lyrically. But the perception is that I’m very romantic, sweet, safe.
And that’s OK, because I am those things too.
I love everybody. I’ll compliment everything about you, even if I wouldn’t have thought to do it two martinis ago.
The drunkest I’ve ever been was about two years ago, with Rod Stewart.
The next day, he told me it was the drunkest he’s ever been.
I have a warped badge of honour about it. And it was an example of manifestation for me – because I dreamed my whole life of drinking with him.
Oh yeah, quite a few. The producer and writer David Foster told me I shouldn’t sing.
I was 19, and it had weight because I admired him so much.
Every label rejected me several times even though my demo included Endless Summer Nights and Should’ve Known Better.
But I also had Lionel Richie telling me, “You’re good. Do it.”
I don’t think the public has a sense of the level of my success.
Plenty of people online have said, “You’re a one-hit wonder.”
One time I said, “Yeah, but which one?” [laughs]
I think I’m a very skillful songwriter. It’s knowing how to master the puzzle.
And, honest answer? I’m a really skillful singer.
On this album, I did three takes of each song. No stopping or punching in.
Even though I’m putting out a new album, I’m a touring artiste.
I’m a greatest-hits show. When people sway to Right Here Waiting, I love it.
When they dance to Don’t Mean Nothing, I love it.
Years ago, part of me wondered why I wasn’t being accepted as the rocker that I actually am.
Then it was like, “Who cares?” I’ve had my axes to grind in the past, but I got over that. – ©2026 The New York Times Company
