
About the song
There is a particular kind of sadness that feels almost elegant—soft, slow-burning, and quietly cinematic. Barry Manilow’s rendition of “I Can’t Get Started” carries exactly that kind of melancholy: a bittersweet glow, like watching old film reels projected against a dim living-room wall at midnight. His voice doesn’t rush, doesn’t push; it simply drifts, warm and wounded, as if it has lived with this confession for years.
From the very first lines, the song opens like a long tracking shot through memory. You can almost see the room: amber lighting, cigarette smoke curling upward, a piano shimmering with that unmistakable 1930s-40s jazz nostalgia. Manilow steps into this world like a storyteller returning to an unfinished chapter—his phrasing gentle but heavy with longing. Each lyric feels like a camera zoom, lingering on small details: a letter never answered, a moment of hope that flickered out, a love that, no matter how hard he tried, simply refused to begin.
What makes Manilow’s interpretation cinematic is the way he blends restraint with vulnerability. He doesn’t dramatize the heartbreak; he lets it breathe. His voice carries the weariness of someone who has achieved everything except the one thing that truly mattered. And when he leans into the soft vibrato at the line endings, it feels like the emotional equivalent of late-night streetlights shimmering on wet pavement—tender, reflective, quietly stunning.
There’s an old-world charm in how he honors the song’s jazz-standard roots while giving it his signature warmth. You can hear echoes of vintage lounges, smoky orchestras, and lovers parting on train platforms. Yet it’s also timeless, because everyone has known that kind of love—the one that never quite took shape, no matter how much effort, hope, or dreaming went into it.
Listening to “I Can’t Get Started,” you don’t just hear heartbreak. You witness a man revisiting the corners of a once-possible love, holding it gently in his hands, knowing it will always be unfinished—and somehow, all the more beautiful because of that.
