By admin 
INTRODUCTION
The opening chords of “Even Now” possess a distinct, melancholic weight that feels less like a studio arrangement and more like a private confession whispered into a microphone. For decades, musicologists and “Fanilows” alike have scrutinized the 1978 masterpiece, seeking the identity of the person who could inspire such a profound admission of lingering love amidst a life of current contentment. As Manilow navigates the final dates of his 2026 “The Last Sunrise” tour, the resonance of this particular track has deepened. The stakes are no longer about chart positions, but about the definitive truth of an artist’s emotional blueprint. While the lyrics were penned by his longtime collaborator Marty Panzer, the performance remains inextricably linked to Manilow’s most private chapter: his brief, formative marriage to his high school sweetheart, Susan Deixler.
THE DETAILED STORY
To understand the nuance of “Even Now,” one must revisit the Brooklyn of 1964, where a twenty-one-year-old Barry Manilow married Susan Deixler. The union was short-lived, ending in annulment in 1966 as Manilow’s relentless pursuit of musical excellence collided with the traditional expectations of domestic life. In his autobiography, Sweet Life, Manilow described Susan as the “perfect wife,” yet admitted he was not ready to settle. This fundamental tension—the choice between a stable, early love and the inevitable call of the stage—is the very engine that drives the narrative of “Even Now.” Although Marty Panzer wrote the lyrics, he did so by tapping into the shared emotional vocabulary of his and Manilow’s youth, creating a paradigm where the songwriter’s past became the performer’s reality.
The song’s power lies in its meticulous exploration of a specific psychological state: the “itch” of a memory that refuses to heal despite a successful present. When Manilow sings, “Even now, when I have come so far,” he isn’t just referencing fame; he is referencing the literal miles and decades placed between himself and that small Brooklyn apartment. The “Susan theory” gains authority when one considers that Manilow rarely spoke of his marriage until much later in his career, keeping the pain of that departure shielded behind a curtain of professional discipline. The song served as a safe vessel for a grief that he was not yet prepared to discuss in prose.
In the context of 2026, “Even Now” has transitioned from a heartbreak ballad into a meditation on the permanence of first loves. During his recent performances in Sunrise, Florida, the arrangement has been stripped back, allowing the vulnerability of his post-surgery voice to emphasize the lyric’s inherent fragility. Whether or not Susan Deixler is the literal subject, she is the spiritual architect of the song’s emotional landscape. Manilow’s ability to inhabit that space every night for fifty years suggests that while the person may have left the room, the resonance of their absence is immortal. It is a sophisticated reminder that in the world of narrative pop, the most powerful ghosts are the ones we refuse to name.