Me On The Recode Podcast
I think this is a pretty accurate representation of who I am and what I believe.
I think this is a pretty accurate representation of who I am and what I believe.
I woke up this morning and I got myself a BEER!
I didn’t buy “Morrison Hotel.”
The Doors’ debut is one of the best albums extant. Sure, it’s got “Light My Fire,” even “The End,” but my favorite is “Crystal Ship,” and I have a soft place in my heart for “Twentieth Century Fox.”
So I bought “Strange Days,” which was even darker, but sans standout tracks. Then again, I love “Moonlight Drive” and “You’re Lost Little Girl,” but what in the hell was up with “Horse Latitudes”? They get all the credit for experimenting, but…
“Waiting For The Sun” had a huge hit, and who doesn’t love “Love Street,” and I sing “Summer’s Almost Gone” to myself every August, but…it didn’t quite reach the previous peak.
And then came “Soft Parade,” which was criticized for being bombastic, but I’ve got no problem with the title track, and I really love “Wishful Sinful” and “Runnin’ Blue,” but I stopped there…
Because the reviews weren’t quite good enough.
Funny how time has written a different story. People exalt the rawness of “Morrison Hotel,” the Paul Rothchild-less “L.A. Woman” is a classic, and I know them by heart, they get so much airplay, the Doors had a renaissance nonpareil, but…
When I heard John Sebastian give the backstory on “Roadhouse Blues” just now and he launched into the tune I was TRANSFIXED!
I had my hands upon the wheel, my fingers were tapping, my ass was shaking, I was reminded of what music once was, when rock ruled, when it was about singing as opposed to talking, when those who made it were truly outlaws, when it was the most important thing in the world, when it WAS the culture.
So, John Sebastian is the deejay today on the 70’s on 7. Installations in automobiles broke Sirius XM, never underestimate the power of distribution, and I’m stunned when people don’t subscribe, I haven’t listened to terrestrial radio since 2003, and I don’t miss it a bit.
And John isn’t the best deejay, he doesn’t have a smooth voice, it’s a bit halting and considered, but I’m playing the home game, I’m anticipating what he’s going to say, and he’s talking about a recut of “Nashville Cats” in Nashville and I’m thinking of Valerie Carter’s exquisite cover of his “Face Of Appalachia,” but I’ve got to stop at the 76 station for some gas, where the woman next to me has a neck tattoo and I’m wondering…does everybody want to be like a rock star, and at what cost, does this hurt your career?
And when I’m back in my machine John is telling a story about the aforementioned Paul Rothchild, who I actually knew, how Paul called him up to play with the Doors.
I didn’t know that!
This was pre-internet, pre-Wikipedia.
And John’s talking about being thrilled to play with the lauded Lonnie Mack, whom I didn’t know was on the record either, and just before he hits play he says to listen for himself on the harmonica.
I DIDN’T KNOW THIS! For some reason I thought someone in the band played the harp.
And it’s fifty years since the Lovin’ Spoonful, and John Sebastian may have lost his voice but for the life of me I don’t know why the Lovin’ Spoonful” has lost its respect, they had a string of hits, my favorite besides “Darling Be Home Soon”? SIX O’CLOCK!
So I’ve got it cranked. I’ve got an aftermarket stereo. Does anybody do that anymore? Is everybody resigned to better than crap but not really great sound in the car?
And I’ve got the six speakers and the subwoofer and I’m in my cocoon and….
That guitar starts to chug, the one that lit up untold Saturday nights in the city.
And the ivories are tinkling and the harp is blowing and then Jim is imploring us to keep our eyes on the road and our hands upon the wheel as we drive to the roadhouse to have a real good time.
How did the band change sounds? I think it confounded critics. People expect you to sound exactly like you did before, but the crowd caught on, “Roadhouse Blues” is a staple, a classic.
By today’s standards it takes too long to get to the lyrics.
But back then we were all about breaking rules.
And the band is laying down track, rollicking, taking the Band’s sound and amplifying it and then…
“Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel”
Today millennials don’t even get their license. But back then it represented freedom. Does anybody even drive cross-country anymore? That was a box to be ticked, not because you could not afford to fly, but because you wanted to see what was going on, soak up the landscape.
Yeah, we’re goin’ to the roadhouse
We’re gonna have a real
Good time
Oh, the tales your parents have to tell. Getting in Pontiacs and Pintos, loaded up with their friends, driving to a bar where there was a jukebox, maybe a band, and beers were a buck and you started early and ended late and it was all about jostling and jiving, telling tales and having the night of your life.
Let it roll, baby
Let it roll, baby
Let it roll, baby
Let it roll, all night long
Getting in the moment, surfing the zeitgeist, that’s the essence of life, that’s what music provides, you want to catch the wave, stand up and ride it all the way into shore.
Save our city
Save our city
RIGHT NOW!
Nothing beats immediacy. Don’t call me about drinking Saturday night, tell me to meet you downtown RIGHT NOW!
Well, I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer
That’s what you did when everybody wasn’t on the fast track to nowhere taking business courses so they can climb up the corporate ladder, so they can be entrepreneurs, founding apps, making coin,
We didn’t think we could win back then. Life was for the living. And sometimes the only way to go, to cope, was to pop a top as soon as you got up, and face the day.
The future’s uncertain and the end is always near
For Jim it certainly was, shortly he’d be six feet under in Paris. But the reason he and his compatriots’ music lasts is because they played like it was everything and it could all end tomorrow. No corporation could keep up.
Now this is not background music, not something to come up on the Pandora channel playing while you work, while you make dinner, no “Roadhouse Blues” immediately demands your attention.
So what I want you to do right now is TURN IT UP! I want you to LET LOOSE! I want you to FEEL ALIVE! I want you to let the music WASH OVER YOU! I want you to be jetted back to what once was and forevermore will be!
That’s the power of music, that’s the power of a track, get it right and it’s forever. It’s not an iPod that’s superseded that ends up in a drawer. It’s not the supporting cast, but the lead, when done right it dominates, desecrates and decapitates, that’s right, it blows your head RIGHT OFF!
So what I want you do is let it roll.
Let it roll.
ALL NIGHT LONG!
So I’m telling Don Was how good the Stones album is.
No, actually that’s untrue. I was talking to Jerry and Sue. Who I know from the Palisades. They were fish out of water, they’re social friends of Barnett, they wanted to know…WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?
So I introduce them to Don Passman, who comes walking by. I tell them he literally wrote the book. I expected that to get a laugh, but it was a noisy party and Don needed to move on and…
I was anxious. I don’t want to judge any of these people, like Joni Mitchell, but I always wonder where my place is in these assemblages. Everybody seems to know everybody, everybody is having a good time, how do I navigate, how long before I can leave?
But then Mr. Was shows up.
Actually, Mr. Fagenson. He’s only half a year older than me. There’s a nexus between two Jews, although he’s so much cooler than I am. And I didn’t check whether he was wearing his flip-flops, but that’s his trademark, even in Toronto in the middle of March, where I first met him. Don is Don 24/7.
And he also produced one of the greatest records of all time.
Yes, he works with the Stones. Yes, he cut Bonnie Raitt’s comeback/breakthrough album “Nick Of Time,” but the one after that…
“Luck Of The Draw” is one of the great albums ever. Bonnie’s one of the few who ever hit a second peak. “Give It Up” is classic, she didn’t come close again, and then nearly twenty years later she superseded her prior career, WHEW!
One part be my lover.
One part go away.
I was married to that person. She didn’t want to be with me, but she didn’t want to get divorced.
And just as good is the title cut.
These things we do to keep the flame burnin’
And write our fire in the sky
We’re all trying to write our fire in the sky, that’s why we move to Los Angeles. Most fail. But those who succeed become icons.
And those who survive in this business deserve respect, like Don Was. Most people can’t work anymore, that’s the dirty little secret.
So we’re talking Stones. Don’s telling me how they made the new record. How everybody knew they were on to something but no one wanted to say anything, afraid it would kill the magic.
And I’m worried about Jerry and Sue. They didn’t know how long to stand there waiting for me to re-engage them. I introduced them to Don, but this ended up being a one on one conversation, and Mr. Was was not jonesing to move on.
Which Jerry and Sue eventually did.
And we’re talking Gregory Porter, and I’m about to go deep on some songwriting theory and…
I feel a presence over my shoulder, someone’s being ushered up to Don, to be introduced. An old guy with white hair.
It’s Bob Seger.
Now let me tell you, this was not a star-studded affair. Eventually I saw Nancy Wilson, but this was a business party. Old execs, wannabes…
But now it’s Bob Seger. Who’s got those slightly crooked buck teeth and he’s inches away and he’s getting into it with Don and I’m standing there thinking…
How long is this gonna last?
And at what point can I enter the conversation?
Now I’d been introduced. But needless to say, keeping his music off Spotify, Seger’s got no idea who I am. Which I can handle. But suddenly I’m Jerry and Sue… How long do I stand here until I move on?
I know the rules, I can’t let on that I’m a fan. Maybe I’ll tell him how good he was at the Frey memorial, that was an invitation-only affair.
But then Bob starts talking about his new album, cut in Nashville, a tribute to Glenn Frey!
And Don asks him who’s playing on it and Seger says “Kenny Greenberg,” and I know Kenny and can talk this game but…
Should I stay or should I go?
One thing I know for sure, if I go there won’t be trouble. I won’t be missed. But I was in a genuine conversation with Don that might be picked up, can I fight my inner dialogue and stand my ground?
But then the photographer shows up.
No way I’m gonna be in this picture. I’m the opposite of a glommer-on. If you ask me, maybe…
But after the first pic Don puts his arm around my shoulder, the three of us get photographed, my bona fides have been established as Bob goes on and then…
Ryan Adams pops up between us.
And I’m stunned how young Ryan appears up close and personal. He’s veritably cherubic, he’s fresh-faced, and he then says…
NOW I’VE FOUND THE PARTY!
And that’s when it occurred to me, Bob Seger was just like me, but even worse. He was all alone, and when he found the one person he knew and respected, also from Detroit, there was no way he was gonna let go.
And now the three of them are talking and my spilkes is driving me crazy. I don’t want to appear a hanger-on, so I tell Don I’m gonna make my exit.
And I do.
THE AFTERMATH
It was a cornucopia of players. I’m talking about those who work the phone, not those who pluck the strings. Then again, isn’t that the problem, that too few of today’s artists know how to play?
So, I spoke with Jeff Jones, of Beatles, Inc., who told me the Ron Howard film grossed twelve million, that it was a success. You should view it, you’ll get goosebumps when you see the Fab Four way back when.
And after consorting with Irving and Lucian and Peter Paterno, I noticed the oldsters over my shoulder… Bhaskar Menon, Don Zimmermann, Rupert Perry…
But by this time I was engaged in conversation with John Sykes. Who was telling me about arranging a meeting between Leon Russell and Eric Clapton decades after they’d last played together.
And now I was in the groove, I felt comfortable, people wanted to talk to me, but I had no idea how long to engage, I was worried I was committing faux pas, not paying enough attention… Is saying hi enough? Is shaking hands enough?
I became engaged in a long conversation with Dan Wilson and his wife about the state of the arts today, as well as the state of the country, and then I realized it was nearly ten and my mission was complete. The hitters were gone, all that was left were the wannabes.
And at one time or another we’re all wannabes. But then we move to Los Angeles, a place where where you went to college is irrelevant, as is your parentage, unless it’s Hollywood royalty. We all begin at the same starting line. The gun goes off and we network and go down blind alleys and if we become skilled enough, we last.
And then time moves on and we’re plowed under and replaced.
I was talking with Hale Milgrim. I told him I remembered when he presided over the 50th anniversary, with the multi-CD set and the book and…
I didn’t want to tell Bob Seger that it was no longer the way it used to be, that albums were passe. But if he could record one great track, another “Night Moves,” maybe even a “Still The Same,” we were all ears. But the truth is most oldsters can no longer hit the mark. But they remember….
When being a musician was the highest calling in America. Screw being President, you wanted to play, you had influence and money and sex and… You were a king!
But you had to figure out a way to make it happen.
Once upon a time Glenn Frey was managed by Punch, that’s what Seger said.
But Glenn had to wait until he found Irving before he could become a superstar.
You need to be in the room where it happens.
Tonight I was.
And those Hollywood nights, in those Hollywood hills, above all the lights, it was giving me chills.
The people telling us to give Trump a chance are the same overpaid wankers who missed the tsunami that got him elected.
The most educated person I’ve ever known was Tony Wilson, majordomo of Factory Records. Want to know more? Pull up “24 Hour Party People,” the movie they made about his life. You’ll learn about the Hacienda, Happy Mondays and the genesis of dance music culture, it will not be a wasted two hours.
And being with Anthony H. Wilson was never a waste of time.
Tony’s dead now. The Big C got him back in 2007. He was fine just the fall before, when I was in Manchester, he had a conference there called “In The City,” and although it never made much money, it was a fountain of stimulation. Tony dug down deep into the music archives and extracted such people as Hank Shocklee, the legendary hip-hop producer, as well as attracting luminaries like Matthew Knowles and seemingly everybody who was anybody in the English music business. That’s where I met Richard Russell, the most successful A&R man working today, with a track record almost as good as Pixar’s, as well as coming face to face with Chris Blackwell and so many other famous names.
I always flew in the day before so Tony and I could hang. We’d catch up on our personal lives, the state of the music business, and then Tony would teach me history, give me a tour of the landmarks, take me to Liverpool to see the Mersey… He once took me to Town Hall and told me the backstory of paintings that went back hundreds of years, each and every one of them.
And he also told me about his first job out of Cambridge, at Granada Television, being the man behind the scenes at the TV news.
Now Tony’s version of the story was that the anchor screwed up. The anchor blamed the problem on Tony.
And what was the problem?
The European football scores were reversed. This was the late night Saturday news, and the anchor said the winner was the loser and the loser was the winner and…
On Monday morning the big boss called Tony into his office and said he was going to fire him.
Tony was aghast. He believed it wasn’t his fault and this was a bad beginning and who cared about these foreign scores anyway?
Which is exactly what the big boss said. That no one cared about the European football scores on the late night telecast. But if they couldn’t even get that right, the viewers would wonder what else were they getting wrong!
This story always stuck with me. It’s the tells that make you suspicious. The guy who brags he’s so rich and then shows up in a Ford Fiesta. The one who mispronounces the name of the club. Who cares what kind of car someone drives, who cares whether the pronunciation is right, but if he’s lying about this, WHAT ELSE IS HE LYING ABOUT?
I can’t read the newspaper. Never mind watch television. Donald Trump ran for President in plain sight and these people missed it, all of them. What else are they missing?
I know, I know, everybody’s talking about fake news and how you should buy and trust your local newspaper but I’m not so sure anymore. Especially after reading that “Bloomberg Businessweek” story about the nitwit who bought Tribune and turned it into tronc. Rupert Murdoch is not the only one who purveys biased news.
It’s bad folks, it’s very bad. And for those of you who voted for Trump who wanted change?
Get back to me when your daughter can’t get an abortion. He’s already gone on record he wants to overturn Roe v. Wade.
And if you’re counting on a social safety net if you lose your job, or for protection from the crowd, good luck. It was open season on black people when Obama was in office. Now?
The newspaper was the ultimate filter, the curator. Then we found out the media missed so many stories. It’s the web that surfaces the non-mainstream stuff. As for Trump… Anybody who interacted online could gauge his support. Hell, I’m gonna get hate mail for writing this!
We’ve got to push back. We’ve got to take over the Democratic Party from its present ruling faction, which is so deep in the bubble it can’t see the exit. Kind of like SNL. I’ve got to hear every week how great it is, but then I pull up the clips AND THEY’RE NOT FUNNY!
I’m reeling. I used to trust the institutions, now I no longer do.
This is not about the “lamestream media,” that’s just Sarah Palin and the rest of the right wingers working the refs. But the truth is the left wing is afraid of the refs, it won’t push back.
So I’m pushing back.
Someone needs to lose their job over this. Not only Billy Bush, but the person in charge of the polling for the “New York Times,” that person has got to go, the whole team has to go. Actions have consequences, and these people threw the election, believe me, if the numbers showed Trump ahead Democrats would have gotten out and voted, not been complacent. Judith Miller got us into Iraq, she got booted. Boot a few more!
But no, the “New York Times” is paying fealty to the Rust Belt, saying it will do better, which is kind of like a serial rapist saying he’ll keep his pants zipped up from here on out, huh?
If you’re making seven figures a year at the TV station your life is good. You can wait for change. You’ve got a contract, you believe you’ll adjust.
If you’re working for the paper, you think daddy will protect you. You’re not like the rest of us, who gave up full employment and are now independent contractors trying to put food on the table as we pay for rent, never mind health insurance.
As for reporters… With their inane “who, what, why, where and when,” never mind “how,” that’s not the era we live in any more. There’s an expert in every field and he or she is testifying online and let’s amplify their voices instead of the words of these know-nothings.
That’s right, I was at lunch Friday with a heavy hitter, the toppermost of the entertainment world, and I asked him if reporters ever called him… He said ALL THE TIME! Did they know anything? NOTHING! And was the article ever right? NEVER!
This happens to me on a regular basis. Some of the most trusted news outlets extant will call me for a quote. The reporter knows nothing about the subject, I take half an hour to explain it and they still get it wrong. Even worse, some of these ignoramuses argue with me because what I’m saying doesn’t fit their narrative.
Once again, if they can’t get entertainment reporting right, what are the odds they’re getting it right on the big issues, like politics?
And politics is the big issue right now, it’s everything.
Be very afraid. This is not business as usual. We’re down for the count and they’re playing with brass knuckles. An anti-Semite in the cabinet? What’s next, expelling Muslims?
You bet. No one is safe. And if you think I’m being histrionic you never grew up in a family, where the parents have absolute power.
The Republicans have absolute power. They control each and every branch of the government. And if you’re expecting the media to protect us…
As Judas Priest so eloquently put it…
You’ve got another thing comin’.