Bolton--A Happy Blue-Eyed Soul Man

From the balcony of singer-songwriter Michael Bolton’s ground-floor room in a West Hollywood hotel, you could see soul balladeer Freddie Jackson chatting with some people at a poolside table.

Bolton was peeking out the window at him. “Freddie was talking to me about songs,” said Bolton, who has a big pop hit with his remake of Otis Redding’s ’68 classic, “Dock of the Bay.”

“Me . . . me! I can’t believe it. That a guy like him would even think of recording my songs.” Bolton, of course, didn’t write “Dock,” but Jackson undoubtedly knew of his other credits. The R&B; power ballad “That’s What Love Is All About,” a single from Bolton’s Columbia album “The Hunger,” peaked just inside the Top 20 of the pop charts. Bolton co-wrote that as well as “I Found Someone,” the hit that has resurrected Cher’s singing career.

Bolton almost scored a coup--having two songs in the Top 10 at the same time. “I Found Someone,” which he also produced, made it, but “Dock” peaked at No. 11.

With his long, scraggly locks, the lean singer-songwriter resembles Ted Nugent. But he also looks and sounds uncannily like a young James Caan. Surprisingly, Bolton, who likes to impersonate people he’s talking about, didn’t have any Caan lines handy--some “Godfather” lines would have been appropriate.

The somewhat brash and outgoing Bolton was having trouble containing himself. He obviously didn’t want to come across as a cocky braggart. But he did blow his own horn--just a little bit.

“I met Gladys Knight in an elevator and she not only knew who I was but she talked to me about using some of my songs,” Bolton said, beaming. “I mean, that was Gladys Knight, talking to me about songs.”

It’s not only soul balladeers who are interested in Bolton’s songs. Mick Jones of Foreigner consulted with him about working on some material. Barry Manilow called him about producing some songs for the next Manilow album. Bolton noted that the idea of working with Manilow would be more appealing if songwriting was part of the deal.

Kenny Rogers, the Pointer Sisters, Irene Cara, Joe Cocker and the Starship have recorded his songs. Laura Branigan put his composing career into high gear with her 1983 hit version of his “How Am I Supposed to Live Without You.”

“All of a sudden people were asking me for songs,” he recalled. “I had a career I wasn’t even shooting for.”

Most of his energy had been channeled into his singing career, which began when he was signed at age 15 by Epic Records. That deal never resulted in a record, but he’s recorded extensively ever since. As a rock singer, he’s done two albums for RCA, two for Polydor (with a band called Blackjack) and three for Columbia.

He had some success with his first Columbia album, which landed him an opening act spot on a Bob Seger tour. But until his seventh album, “The Hunger,” he’d just been “promising.” Even that album, released last August, didn’t take off right away. But this year, with a boost from those two singles, it’s been a slow, steady seller, closing in the 500,000 mark.

There’s a good reason why the rock tunes on “The Hunger” have a middle-of-the-road rock, Journey-style flavor. Four members of Journey play on the album, including keyboardist Jonathan Cain, who’s also co-producer.

Having recorded six albums before this one, Bolton is no overnight success. Though he looks to be in his 30s, his age is a well-guarded secret. “I’m between 25 and 70,” he quipped. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Bolton cringed at being called a blue-eyed soul singer: “I don’t like being put in a box and labeled.”

Still, the label is accurate. “My roots are R&B;,” said Bolton, who grew up in New Haven, Conn., but who has lived in New York so long he’s acquired a New York accent.

“I was inspired by black singers and blues singers. They could do things that just thrilled me.”

As early as 14, he was trying to sing like Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, a legendary R&B; singer known for his spine-tingling shrieking on songs like “I Put a Spell on You.” Sitting at a table in his hotel room, Bolton sang, quite impressively, a line from that song and punctuated it with a Hawkins-style shriek. “I could have done it louder but I didn’t want the neighbors to complain,” he said, laughing.

Negative feelings from some blacks against his soul-style songs have disturbed Bolton. Songs like “That’s What Love Is All About” and “Dock of the Bay” got black airplay, but not enough to suit him. Resentful black radio personnel, he charged, have been a problem.

“They don’t want to play songs by white guys like me. A long time ago, white pop radio kept black artists off their stations. So it’s payback time for some people at black radio. They want to keep white singers off their stations. They’ll play some white dance tunes if they’re big enough and have a black sound. There’s some of those bad feelings still hanging around. I’m determined to break them down when they’re directed at me.”

Appealing to the white masses, he admitted, isn’t enough for him: “I want to be accepted by black fans. I want a black audience. I like it when black women recognize me on the street. I like the way they respond to me. They’re into ‘That’s What Love Is All About.’ They like the romance of it. In those situations, it’s autographs all around.”

Tempering his declaration with as much modesty as possible, Bolton said he considers himself an excellent soul singer. “Some of the vocal performances on some of my records are more soulful than performances by some of the very soulful black singers,” he said.

Possibly that’s why he tackled a soul standard like Redding’s “Dock of the Bay.” A white artist doing a song like this, with an arrangement reminiscent of the original, is setting himself up as a target for all sorts of flak.

“People tell me all the time that it must have taken a lot of guts to do ‘Dock,’ ” he said. “I don’t look at it that way. I’m just singing a song I love--that’s all. I tried to stay true to what Otis meant--what he was projecting. But at the same time, I brought something else to it. I know I sound good singing it.”

When Bolton recorded “Dock,” he figured it would just be an album cut--to add a little variety and spice to the LP. “I never thought it would be a single,” he said. “But there was a demand for it. I never thought radio would accept it as a single since Otis’ single is still played. When it came out as a single, I knew I’d take some shots from people but that didn’t bother me.

“I’m proud of my work. I know it’s good. I’ll stand up to anybody who wants to challenge me about it. If I was chicken I wouldn’t have recorded ‘Dock’ in the first place.”