Saturday 15 February 2014

Rhinofy-King Of The Road

And then there are the songs you hate when they're hits...

That you absolutely LOVE decades later.

Like Roger Miller's "King Of The Road."

We already knew him from "Dang Me," which seemed like an extension of the Down Under hit "Tie Me Kangaroo Down," we knew he was someone in the country world, but could he keep his near-novelty tracks off our Top Forty stations?

By this time, the British Invasion was in full swing, we wanted only our hits on the radio, not the hangovers and hang-ons of the squares. And when one of these left field hits appeared, they seemed to last forever. We endured them to the point where we knew every lick. They're burned into our brain beyond the people we went to school with. Faces fade away, songs sustain.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, I hear "King Of The Road" on Sirius and...IT'S A REVELATION!

The finger snapping intro is no longer hokey, but hip. Beatnikesque.

And then...

"Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes"

FREEDOM!

That's all we had as kids. We were desirous of possessions, we begged our parents for them. But then you get older and you become tied down by obligations you don't even realize are bonding you to terra firma. The world gets bigger, but your life is smaller, the same damn people in the same damn town and then...

There's this guy singing about going it alone, following his muse and...

There's so little on the record. It sounds like a peek into a guy's life. Like he's singing it alone in his pine board walled motel room and is completely thrilled and entertained and so are we as the mic picks up his private world.

That's one thing music does so well...haunting.

All these years later, it's like there's a real guy... And as opposed to the modern songs with all their platitudes, the picture is fully fleshed out, it seems completely real.

And that's one great thing about records, they're permanent. They don't change. But we do, and suddenly meaning is unlocked that we couldn't even perceive when they were hits.

"Ah, but two hours of pushin' broom
Buys a eight by twelve four bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road"

The American Dream. You hit the highway, fancy free, and discover who you truly are. He may be poor in bank account, but he's rich in experience.

And so are we, the listeners.

Spotify link: http://spoti.fi/p6HcZ8


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Friday 14 February 2014

Roger Goodell's Pay

What kind of crazy fucked up world do we live in where the head of a nonprofit makes $44.2 million a year?

One in which a VC states that only those who pay taxes get to vote, and he who pays more gets more votes!

Huh?

I grew up in a middle class suburb. A melting pot with both a wannabe upper middle class and kids living in projects, there was always enough paper for the mimeo machine and pencils for the little kids.

But no more, just like in America at large, it's everybody for himself in the school system. Bring your own stuff or else go private. And those who go private want to starve the beast of the public system, because god forbid you pay for something that does not go straight to your bottom line.

And I was for the Vietnam war. The government was to be trusted, they always had it right, right?

Until in the midsixties the artists took a stand, the people who I listened to said the war was unjust and we had to protest against it.

That's how powerful art is.

But the power of said art has been abdicated.

Bono may be trying to save the world, but he's not paying any taxes, he moved his operation out of Ireland, he's as scummy as the people he hangs with at the World Economic Forum.

And Jay Z thinks he wins when he extracts $5 million from Samsung. That's like asking your dad for a quarter... Sure! Especially if you tell everybody I gave it to you!

Meanwhile, hedge funders pay taxes at capital gains rates and working stiffs get charged at full pop.

And if you think people pay no taxes...you're unaware of sales taxes, never mind payroll and unemployment and a plethora of other stuff that isn't declared on April 15th.

How did our country get so screwed up?

I'm not saying nobody should be rich, I'm just saying nobody gets rich in a vacuum, and enough is enough. At this point, the rich are competing against themselves for trophy properties. It doesn't make any difference if the apartment is $25 or $50 million, the hoi polloi can't afford it, impose greater taxes and what's the worst that can happen, the price comes down to $15 or $40 million?

And whenever you bring up the inequality, entitled barons like Tom Perkins go on about disincentives and earning their keep. And I say if you can make a fortune without any customers, keep it all. But the truth is we're buying your products and we can't afford them.

Did you read that "New York Times" article wherein it was stated that businesses catering to the rich are booming and those catering to the middle class are faltering, going out of business? Read it, it's an eye-opener:

"The Middle Class Is Steadily Eroding. Just As the Business World.": http://nyti.ms/1iXtI1u

And speaking of disincentives... I find it hard not to give up. Because I had the middle class advantages, I went to a good public school, my father paid the 4k per year it cost to go to an elite educational institution in the seventies. I thought it was a level playing field.

But it's not.

And here's the truth...

Most of the public is ignorant. They're either happy wallowing in shit, satisfied with their flat screens and smartphones, or they delusionally believe they too are going to be rich, so there should be low taxes, even though that lottery they're counting on taxes every dollar.

And then there's the so-called middle class. Who realize the game is stacked against them and believe they must throw in with the rich to survive. Even worse are the sycophants who want a ride on the private plane, who are bossed around by those with money, pure lackeys, thrilled to consume the crumbs of those who believe they are "special."

And then there are the artists.

That's my power. I can write this crap. And if it rings true, you can spread the word. That's how I got to where I am, and it's far from nowhere, purely on my writing. I didn't buy a fan base, I earned it.

But whatever power I have pales in comparison to that of musical artists. They're the most powerful people in the world. They have bigger followings than the President!

But they refuse to step up. Neither in words nor actions.

The wannabes and middle class bitch. Saying they're being ripped off by Spotify. It's poor on poor crime. You're not being beaten by streaming services, you're being beaten by your customers, who refuse to overpay for dreck and would rather just stream on YouTube.

So, to attack said customers/fans, the rich scalp their own tickets and the middle class and poor refuse to go to all-in ticketing, perpetuating the fiction that the Ticketmaster fees go straight to Live Nation's bottom line.

And the public can't believe the acts are at fault, because if they don't believe in the acts, who can they trust?

And the rich and powerful are laughing all the while, because the unwashed have no clue what the game is, never mind how it's played.

How about writing from the heart? How about writing about what you feel as opposed to what you can buy? How about acts lobbying for paperless ticketing so the fans that keep them alive can sit in the good seats as opposed to the rich scenesters who only want to say they were there?

Yes, we're the problem.

We refuse to educate ourselves. We refuse to stand up for what's right. We don't want to speak truth to power, we just want to participate in some of the droppings that go astray.

I don't know about you, but I'm mad as hell.

Once upon a time the artists ran this business, they were as rich and powerful as anybody in America.

Then bozos like Clive Davis and self-important manipulators like Tommy Mottola believed they were bigger than the artists, and paid themselves accordingly, making more money in a year than many artists did in a lifetime, purveying dreck all the while.

And then when the money dried up at the turn of the century, the industry middle class was squeezed out, only high earners and overworked low earners remained. Yes, the music business is just like the rest of America, a bastion of inequality.

And now we've got a whole generation of music makers who have no idea the way it used to be. When you delivered your album to the label and they had to release it unchanged. Before looking pretty and singing high and powerful were the defining characteristics of stardom.

How the hell am I going to compete with someone who makes $44.2 million in a year? Certainly not on cash. My only hope is to make them uneasy via writing. Our only hope is for the artists to lead us out of the wilderness.

But today's artists are a reflection of society, ignorant and greedy, steered by the moneyed class without realizing it.

Is a revolution imminent?

I certainly hope so. At least a little redress.

Is there anybody in America who cares about anybody else?

Oh, that's right, the poor, they're big on charity, it's the rich who are tightfisted.

But until we all say this is unfair, this is not right, something's got to change, everybody's entitled to a roof over their head, food on their plate and an equal opportunity to get ahead, we're screwed.

"Goodell's Pay In 2012 Puts Him In Big Leagues": http://nyti.ms/MkYiXE

"Tom Perkins' big idea: The rich should get more votes": http://cnnmon.ie/NMCjK8


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Airplay

You don't know what you need.

Once upon a time, advertising spread the word. But with untrustworthy corporations and a plethora of products, we're all overwhelmed just trying to catch up with what we already own, never mind experiencing the new. There are more features in your OS than you can fathom. And it seems every year the days get shorter. Keeping up is a full time job, with the press reinforcing what's history still matters and the young 'uns going off into niches exploring that which will flame out shortly.

To share or not to share, that is the question.

Turns out most people on Facebook don't. And Twitter is in a usage crisis. Turns out everybody wants to play at first, but when the newness wears off... Call it the turntable.fm syndrome, a hit for less than a month. We tried it, we abandoned it.

And as you get older you don't need everything.

Like Apple TV.

Buy a movie from the iTunes Store? I've got hundreds of channels I'm paying for but not watching already!

Furthermore, I'm streaming the Olympics in real time, on my computer.

Oh what a world we live in. Where I can watch in HD what is occurring half a world away.

So I download the NBC Olympics app on my iPhone...

And if you think apps are for money, you're missing the point. They're vehicles, that bond you to you and your audience, to be used today and tossed tomorrow.

And as I log in and start watching the downhill portion of the Super Combined on my phone...Amy says, why don't you throw it on the big screen?

THEY'VE GOT APPLE TV!

Not that Amy was sure how to use it, she had an older handset. But I figured out you just brought up the controls by sliding from under the iPhone screen, how you access the built-in flashlight, and with one click, I was watching the Olympics beamed from Russia to my iPhone to the Sharp big screen, in HD, just like that.

I couldn't take my eyes off it.

Your biggest challenge today is getting someone to experience your product. And when this happens, it must deliver.

In other words, what will sell Beats Music is customers demonstrating it for others.

Furthermore, most people bitching about Spotify don't use it.

As for kids, YouTube is enough.

And that's the world we live in, one of overload, with no manuals and no instruction. It's like we've returned to the Middle Ages, wherein everything is hand sold. And if we find something superior, we don't stop testifying about it.

And I'm now testifying about Apple TV with Airplay, because it's so damn COOL!

P.S. Felice and I are going to have a "House of Cards" marathon tonight. I'd stay home all weekend and watch all thirteen episodes if I didn't have to go out of town. Then again, they'd be gone so fast and I'd be salivating for more. Satiating the audience is the new paradigm in the book business, read this article:

"Impatience Has Its Reward: Books Are Rolled Out Faster": http://nyti.ms/1iWVifg

In other words, artificial delays are history. Don't wait until everybody knows about your product, deliver for those who truly care, they'll spread the word.

P.P.S. Did you read Farhad Manjoo's buying guide, how to keep up with modern technology?

You must:

"How To Survive the Next Wave of Technology Extinction": http://nyti.ms/1j7fryJ

Manjoo is a star. Traveling from Slate to the WSJ and now the NYT, he who has the goods has opportunities these days. I love Manjoo's writing because his personality comes out, and he's willing to go on the record, as in the above article, wherein he tells you specifically what to buy, no one in the media is willing to go on record, but Manjoo is.


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Thursday 13 February 2014

Inspiration

I don't want to be President and I don't want to win a gold medal.

But that does not mean I can't be inspired to do my best, to test limits, to smile with a level of achievement that I could previously only dream of.

Obama is going to be in Palm Springs this weekend, where I'll be visiting my mother. If the President had come to Fairfield, Connecticut in the sixties, I'd still be talking about it. We get a note on our door handle that they're filming in the neighborhood and we wince, but everywhere I've lived other than Los Angeles the residents are thrilled when a movie production comes to town.

They told us anybody could become President, I read it in the "Weekly Reader," but now I just know it's the CEO of the country, and sure, I'd like Mary Barra's paycheck, but I wouldn't want to run GM.

As for the Winter Olympian, other than Shaun White and a few others they're getting their one moment in the sun, before America and the media moves on. Winning a gold medal is akin to having a hit record. A one hit wonder can never give up, he or she believes the next hit is just around the corner. Whereas if you've never achieved the ultimate, never grasped the brass ring, it's much easier to move on and find your real niche, as opposed to being stuck in adolescence or twentysomething fame, trading on it for the rest of your stunted life.

But that does not mean I don't have dreams.

I tuned in at 11 PM on Saturday night to watch Bode Miller lose the downhill. I feared he'd lose, because ski racing is a toss-up, a game of changes, not a rigid gridiron inhabited by constants. But I love Bode because he does it his way. You might think he's a loser, but talk to anybody on the World Cup circuit, he's number one, he's the threat no one can count out, he's just a little bit better than everybody else, maybe because his afternoon playground was the hardscrabble Cannon Mountain as opposed to the video game console.

Unlike in music, you can't make it without practice in the Olympics. Oh, you can push on the bobsled team, but most of these athletes practiced in obscurity to earn their one moment in the spotlight.

And for this I respect them.

I'm not a Ted Ligety fan. He's just a bit too boyish and upbeat for me.

But today's "New York Times" turned me around.

First, there's an incredible sequence utilizing new media that demonstrates why he wins, check it out, even if you've never been skiing, it shows how Ted achieves his edge:

http://nyti.ms/MK0mrY

And there's also a story about... How he was a loser who turned himself into being a winner.

This is why they're our heroes. Because they came up against adversity and won. I was reading the article getting inspired. Because I too know what it's like to put in the hard work when no one's watching so that when you finally get into the arena you shine.

Maybe you've got a coach.

But most of us are on our lonesome. And our parents might provide some bread, but really, making it all comes down to you. What's going to keep us going?

I live for inspiration. It's the one element I can't manufacture. But I know it when I feel it. It has me racing to the keyboard, translating my thoughts into words. I want to dance on the screen to the point where you marvel. And that's not easy to do.

And just like ski racing, you cannot write 24/7. How do you keep yourself going in between performances?

Reading. Living. Waiting for the inspiration to come. Which always happens when you least expect it.

I knew that Ted Ligety railed against the new ski regulations.

But I truly had no idea how much time he'd put in.

That's what separates the winners from the losers. The hard practice.

And those who do it so well don't brag about it, for them it's all about the results. Winning is the sweetest satisfaction.

So I'm sitting in my house, nursing a minor cold, overeating crap, trying to slow down, and I read about Ligety and I want to buckle my boots, strap on my skis, and take dozens, HUNDREDS, of runs when no one is looking.

I truly believe if I do the hard work I will achieve my goals.

That does not mean I don't waver. I get down in the dumps.

But then people like Ligety inspire me and I'm rearing to go.

"Told To Be 'Realistic,' Ted Ligety Defied His Doubters": http://nyti.ms/1kC8jhq


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Wednesday 12 February 2014

The Outsiders

Is Eric Church the new Springsteen?

After singing about him, has he become him?

Like the Boss, Church is hungry, and it's more than his heart, but he hasn't had his victory lap yet, maybe the time is now.

Every successful act controls a gang. Known as its fanbase. Which is why classic rock artists can still tour today and Top Forty acts come and go. The acts with longevity stand for something. They play first and foremost to themselves, and then worry about their listeners. As for the label, the radio and the Fortune 500...they come last, if at all. It's best if they can survive giving the establishment the middle finger.

They say we live in a hip-hop nation.

But that was a decade ago.

Conventional wisdom is we're in the midst of a Top Forty juggernaut, that pop rules.

But is rock and roll still the sound of America?

Listening to Erich Church's new album, I'm thinking so.

Life is frustrating. You need release. And it's fun to bump butts at the club, but it gets old with all the aspirational music, you know, people who keep telling you how much better they are than you. People you can pay more money to, but will never get to talk to, never mind screw.

And then we've got "The Outsiders."

Church described the title track as a mix of Waylon Jennings and Metallica. And I wouldn't go quite that far, but it's close. And not made for the mainstream, but for Church and his audience.

Not everybody listens with a group. Not everybody puts on their makeup and finery to appear their best. In other words, you wouldn't catch Kim Kardashian at an Eric Church show. Because there's an element of danger. And one thing the exalted are not are regular people, members of the public, their whole self-image is based on being better, superior to the rest of us, throw them in the pit and they'll get pulled apart.

And although there may be drugs, Paris Hilton won't go either. Because this isn't about spinning records, but playing. Making that sound come out of the speakers that crowds out all the bad feelings, that makes you thrust your arms in the air and feel good.

Come on, have you ever played air guitar in the bathroom, practicing your moves in front of the mirror?

Rocked on the porch with a beer, nodding your head to the beat?

That's what "The Outsiders" sounds like.

And this is truly the sound of America.

It's the black underbelly revealed on both "The Sopranos" and "Breaking Bad."

It's an extended number that is not made for radio, just for you.

"Give Me Back My Hometown" is made for radio. And it's got the haunting quality of the Springsteen track with the similar title. There's heartfelt emotion. Sure, there's a bit of paint by numbers, but it's not as calculated as the country tsunami.

And that's the truth, most of us live in our own hometown, with a bit of sex, a bit of drink, a bit of drugs, a bit of fun amidst the boredom and the drudgery, and what we're all looking for is something to believe in.

And right now, the leading male exponent of believability is Eric Church.

He played the game a bit, always with some attitude, and now that he's got some headway he's going his own way, and the establishment has to follow him, because of his audience.

Once you've got an audience, you can go anywhere.

Kenny Chesney's lost the plot. He's too busy sunning himself in the Caribbean and plotting his next stadium trek.

But really, it comes down to music, and performance. No stage set, no dancing, no shenanigans are necessary if you've got the material to entrance your audience and make them close their eyes and sing along.

We want to belong.

We just can't find anything to believe in anymore.

But just maybe, Eric Church is it.

Because when you listen to these tracks you remember the way it used to be, when AC/DC shook us all night long and we saw that wreck on the highway and got home and shivered, put on a record, and felt at ease.

P.S. I'm still pissed the entire album is not on Spotify. I get it, they want to drive first week sales so the antiquated press will trumpet Church's success, and I'll admit, you don't want to jump into the new world too soon, timing is everything, but the truth is "Springsteen" has been streamed on Spotify 16,489,917 times, yes, even country kids have computers, and the amount of money made by selling recordings is bupkes compared to the money to be made on the road. Still, check out these two tracks, they're not revolutionary but they contain the essence of what you used to know, that used to turn you on way back when...

Spotify playlist: http://spoti.fi/1fZPdMi


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Tuesday 11 February 2014

Re: There's Not Enough Money In Cool

Just to be clear, I am not pro abortion, but I believe a woman has the right to choose. I also believe strongly in the family structure of a man and woman, you simply can not pro create naturally any other way, but I have always said, why should gay people not be able to be miserable too, let em get married! Was fun picking each others brains and breaking bread, I love sharing opinions with people who have them, no matter what they believe. Rock on - 

Robert Ritchie / Kid Rock

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There's Not Enough Money In Cool

That's what Kid Rock told me last night in Malibu.

After he told me Billy Joel gave him shit for showing up at the Grammys in a t-shirt and Rock told him "That's why I got into this business, to dress how I want!"

The goal was never to do it their way, but your own. To utilize your success to garner freedom, instead of locking yourself down on Maggie's Farm.

Interesting conversation, Rock's quite the raconteur. And informed on politics to boot. He's pro-abortion and pro-gay marriage, but he wants everybody to work, for self-dignity, to pull themselves up by the bootstraps with government help so they can get off government help.

And I agree. Why can't we have an apprenticeship program in the USA, like Germany? Why can't we give our people a lift up?

But Rock doesn't want to be a political spokesperson, he considers himself first and foremost a musician. What does he do when he's not on stage? Listen to music!

That was interesting. I guess too many people are focusing on the trappings, so busy trying to get rich that they're ignoring their core competency, assuming they're competent to begin with.

And as for his trailblazing $20 concert ticket... It was a raging success, he played to more people, he converted them, he made millions, but good luck trying to get other musicians to follow his lead because their handlers, their managers and agents, are afraid to play without a net, without a guarantee.

And there you have it in a nutshell. No one in America is willing to take a risk. They all want a handout, whether it be from the government, the record label, Live Nation or the VC. They don't really want to build their own business, they want to cash out. How did this happen? Is everybody so scared, is everybody just looking for a pile of money to retire with? I'm not looking to retire, I want to work! Because that's where the satisfaction is. And the goal of a rock star is to do it your own way. And you end up with a fan base because you're a beacon for people's freedom. You wonder why everybody is perfecting their melisma and starting perfume companies and whoring themselves out to corporations?

Because that's what today's stars are doing.

Sure, it starts with the music. But once you climb that hill, you've got a responsibility to be a three-dimensional person, to direct and conduct yourself in such a way that you'll sustain a career, you've got to be more than an entertainer, you've got to take risk, you've got to stand for something, if it's nothing more than having it your way.

Isn't it screwy that that's the motto of a hamburger chain?

Or as I always say, the Army ripped off our slogan, "Be All You Can Be," that used to be the motto of the rock star!

Then again, Rock also told me you can't buy cool.

Those institutions can embrace our slogans, buy access to our music, but cool is reserved for those who create outside the box, live their lives far from the rule-based system.

And by those standards, Kid Rock is very cool, and he's making a lot of money being himself.

That's a rock star.


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Monday 10 February 2014

Flappy Bird

What kind of crazy fucked up world do we live in where a mobile video game has more mystery, more charm, and generates more revenue than the productions of all the wannabe musicians?

One in which the developer pulls it from the app store and the minions can't stop talking about it.

This is what it was like in the days of yore, when we fought to know more about musicians and went to the show just to find out what was going on.

Yes, while musicians can't stop bitching that they can't get rich, this guy in Vietnam creates a video game that churns out 50k a day and then deletes it saying that to modify it would kill it, that he just can't handle the intensity of its success.

Huh?

Is this like Ray Davies and David Bowie saying they were going to retire? (If you're wet behind the ears, you might have missed that...)

Then again, Flappy Bird is more addictive than anything on Bowie's new record.

And isn't it funny that the biggest hits of the year were by guys in helmets from France and a barely adolescent girl/woman from New Zealand? Oh, forget about "Blurred Lines," it was a remake of a Marvin Gaye track.

This is like Paul being dead.

That's one thing I hated about last night Beatles tribute, it made the Beatles look small. When Paul and Ringo played the audience sat in rapt attention. When back in the day we were out of our heads.

Did you get the memo on Flappy Bird? Did you know to download it?

I certainly didn't. Then again, I'm not into mobile video games. But rather than appeal to me, the developer ignored those who did not care. He just uploaded it to the app store and it took off!

Maybe there's more, how the hell would I know.

All I do know is my inbox is filling up with people telling me this story, more passionately than they talk about any band. They want to know what is going through this guy's head. Remember when we got "Rolling Stone" to read the interviews? I'll listen to Howard Stern extract nuggets from Donovan, but I haven't read an interview in "Rolling Stone" in eons, not because the writers are so bad, but because the acts have nothing to say! To think that once upon a time we looked up to musicians, who were worldly on not only music, but politics and so much more.

This is bigger than Beyonce. Because people actually want the game!

I don't know how we get back to the garden in music, it may be impossible, manufactured mystery is the worst.

And I do believe there's a backstory here, involving legal issues, but what intrigues everybody, why this story is flourishing, is because it appears this guy is leaving money on the table.

No one leaves money on the table in music. They just want more. They want to scalp their own tickets, synch to TV shows, garner sponsorships with corporations...

But one thing remains true... If your motives are pure and your music is great, if you're a true believer in your art and the public responds...

There's enough money for everybody.

"Popular Flappy Bird Game Mysteriously Grounded": http://techland.time.com/2014/02/09/flappy-bird-deleted/


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Sunday 9 February 2014

Springsteen Does Scott

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D3rtFfGmH6Q

And now the transition is complete, from the era of recordings to live performance, from you need to own it to you need to be there.

As bad as this audience video is, I'm sure the experience of being there was absolutely delicious. Like the surfers in Malibu always say...YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE YESTERDAY!

You watch the shenanigans of Pink and the dancing fools.

You feel the work of Springsteen here.

How can he get it so wrong on wax, but so right live? How can he break out of the stultification of playing the same hits to adoring fans to throwing a curve ball so wide, yet over the plate, that he's got our jaws dropping?

This rock and roll is a curious thing. It's a thread that runs through us that is in danger of dying because those playing it today are too often shoegazers so obscure, with tinny guitars and poor vocals, that only the indoctrinated get it.

But in the days of yore, a band started off just left field enough that they earned an initial fan base and the rest of us caught up when they cut their definitive hit.

For Bruce it was "Born To Run."

For AC/DC it was "You Shook Me All Night Long."

And as great as "Rosalita" is, there's a veritable classic on AC/DC's second album, "It's A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock 'n' Roll)."

Ain't that the truth.

"Gettin' robbed
Gettin' stoned
Gettin' beat-up
Broken-boned
Gettin' had
Gettin' took
I tell you folks
It's harder than it looks"

Every band was unique. Not only did every picture tell a story, but everybody's scrapbook was different. Unlike school, unlike the straight and narrow path, rock and roll was a sui generis adventure wherein you learned how to play, got some gigs, went on the road, and listened to the radio and bought records all the while.

To know Bruce Springsteen knows "Highway To Hell" is even more refreshing than knowing he was aware of all those Mitch Ryder killers he used to cover three decades past.

Because once upon a time we were all students of the game.

And we were all in it together.

And the road we were on...WAS THE HIGHWAY TO HELL!

We didn't know where we were going, only that we had to put the pedal to the metal to get there faster. We weren't planning for our future like Generation Y, worried about our retirement and credit scores, we were into feeding the beast and feeling good.

And that's what you do at the show.

It's not a movie.

It's not the same thing every night.

It's a living, breathing, enterprise full of surprises.

More like this please.

P.S. The highlight, other than the riff, is when Morello and then Lofgren and then Bruce and then Little Steven solo on this rock classic. Because like that old Kiki Dee nugget, they've got the music in them, you can feel it, you just want to get closer, and isn't that the way it's supposed to be?


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It Was Fifty Years Ago Today...

We knew who they were and their success had nothing to do with the death of President Kennedy.

Prior to the ascension of the Beatles, the biggest acts in the land were the Beach Boys and the Four Seasons. By '64, Elvis had already petered out, he was an old man in bad movies. Doo-wop was dead too, but that does not mean we were in a burgeoning era of creativity, that limits were being tested on the radio. Rather, we were ready for something new.

The only thing I can equate it to is the summer of '95, when everybody bought a computer so they could play online. I'd bought my Mac Plus nearly a decade before. People saw no use for Macs, never mind PCs, they were business tools, and then suddenly everybody had to have a desktop machine, so they could connect with their brethren around the world, it's the energy we're still running on online today, the human need to...connect.

And that's what the Beatles did, bring us together, our bond with their music connected us, and the old fogies had no idea what hit them.

Sure, President Kennedy had died. It's an indelible event in the minds of baby boomers. But it wasn't the older Freedom Riders who built the Beatles, it wasn't college students and intellectual pipe smokers, it was the barely pubescent, adolescents at best, who cottoned to this new sound the way today's kids jumped to Instagram. This was not a cultural turnaround based on a needed pick me up after the assassination, but a middle of the winter, unforeseen left field assault, that drove us all to the radio and the record store.

This was before everyone moved to the Sun Belt. This was just after Major League Baseball moved to the west coast, before most people knew anything about hockey, never mind the NBA. The weekend was comprised of Biddy League basketball and Wide World of Sports. Yes, Jim McMahon was our star, sports ruled, and then came...

The Beatles.

Sure, we knew the "Ed Sullivan" show. "Bye Bye Birdie" had memorialized it years before.

But we'd been infected by "I Want To Hold Your Hand" a month previously.

If anything, the Beatles owed their success to filling the after holiday vacuum. Yup, in the cultural doldrums of January 1964, "I Want To Hold Your Hand" burst onto the airwaves and some people got it and some people didn't but in a matter of a week, we were all Beatlemaniacs. Not because of media manipulation, but because the music had such energy, the vocals were so good, the songs...made us feel alive.

So by time the Beatles hit "Ed Sullivan," we were already in the know enough to show up at the airport. And in this era of only three TV networks, there was almost no youth oriented news. Which is why we all scrambled for information in mainstream news outlets. It'd be like the "Wall Street Journal" covering a bake sale...we couldn't believe something so dear to us was actually deemed important by THEM!

And by this time we knew the songs by heart. If your parents didn't buy you "Meet The Beatles," they didn't love you. We knew their ages, when they were born, that John Lennon was married, we had to know, we had to get closer.

And then came Sunday night.

No, that's not true. We knew long before that the Beatles were going to be on. We counted down the weeks, the days. We talked about it at school. Everybody was on the same page, America was at war, a culture war.

And when the band came on...

We took photographs of the television set. Forget that they didn't come out, with the flash and all, we wanted to memorialize the event, back when everybody didn't have a camera and photos were still in black and white and you picked and chose what you shot.

And they were cool.

The way John Lennon bounced on his feet like a frog.

The way Paul McCartney leaned his body at the waist, like he owned the world.

The way quiet George Harrison alternately smiled and seemed disinterested.

The way Ringo shook his head and his hair, as if there were electricity jolting him through his throne.

There was a burst of energy so severe, the sixties were shaken from their foundation into a new era. The baby boomers jetted away from their parents and the establishment that very night. Because unlike today's one hit wonders, unlike yesterday's one hit wonders, the Beatles had something to back it up. A whole album you could listen to from beginning to end. Another hit in the wings, "She Loves You," and there was a plethora of acts from across the pond ready to follow this invading army. Previously we'd seen England as war-torn and not fully recovered, now we saw it as a hotbed of innovation and liberalism and fashion.

And to say we were not jaded would be an understatement.

There were no hipsters, except for Maynard G. Krebs on TV.

Oh yeah, there were a couple of ancient naysayers saying that Elvis was king and this music was a fad.

But the Beatles didn't seem to care.

They were nonchalant. Believers in their own myth and power. And unwilling to bend to the powers that be to be successful. It was all a lark. That was the magic of "A Hard Day's Night," the way they didn't seem to care yet did all at the same time, the way the whole world kowtowed at their feet...these four scousers who knew what they'd been through but to this day has never truly been revealed. From desperation with pluck, to worldwide fame that lasted.

And there's no tribute, no TV show that can capture this magic.

Because today everything's just fodder, grist for the mill, wherein statistics rule and art takes a back seat. Every year we hear about some middling act breaking some Beatles chart record. Hogwash. They're nothing compared to the Beatles, who not only ruled the airwaves for years, but changed everything.

We were primed that Sunday night. We knew something was happening.

But we didn't foresee the change.

We grew our hair. We bought musical instruments. We aspired to bigger and better stereos, to get closer to the music. We came to believe you were either one of us or them, and "them" were left behind.

If you were there, you remember it, you know what I say is true.

If you were not...

You will never really know. Like I said, it's akin to the Internet revolution. the same way you're addicted to your mobile phone, that's the same way we were addicted to the Beatles and the British Invasion. Listening and talking about the music 24/7, as if it was the only thing that mattered.

And it was.


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