My iPod Nano only holds two gigs worth of music. Sometime two years ago, I synched it up with some smart playlists in iTunes, so I never know exactly what it’s going to contain. I just let it play. If I’m looking for something, it’s usually not there, after all, two gigs is just one thirtieth of my iTunes library.

Usually I just fire up a "recently added" playlist. I have them in multiple configurations, fifty, seventy and one hundred tracks. It’s a good way to familiarize myself with new music, what I’ve just downloaded, just ripped, just been turned on to. But sometimes that’s jarring. Sometimes I’m not in the mood for the unknown, I want familiarity, I want solace, I want comfort. So, I scroll through the artists’ names until something hits me emotionally. That’s how music is. What sounded good five minutes ago, now is like nails on a blackboard. Hell, this was supposed to be about the New Riders’ "Dirty Business", which blew my mind when I heard it on XM’s Deep Tracks earlier today. But, as the afternoon wore on, after a phone call with a friend, I was no longer in the mood to recall early summer days at my college roommate’s house on the Cape, I was kind of depressed.

What do you play when you’re at loose ends?

Well, when you’re truly down and out, nothing sounds good. But when you’ve got more questions than answers, what do you put on, what makes you feel rooted, what makes you feel good?

I don’t need to know. That’s just the point. It’s personal. We’ve all got acts that we own. We wish others joined us in the club, but somewhere over the years, we’ve given up on converting new fans. We’re just happy our favorites are still doing it, still making music, still playing live. We can’t explain it, but we need every track they cut, we need to see them in concert, it makes our lives complete.

Scrolling through the names on my Nano in reverse, from Z up, I came across Wendy Waldman. I wondered, which of her tracks were on the device?

Only two. From her album of lost tracks, that never made it to albums, entitled "Seeds and Orphans". And when I pushed the button, "Restless In Mind" started playing through the headphones.

When did the business become bastardized? Was it with corporate rock? Or the advent of MTV? Hair bands? Boy bands? When did it become about the hit? Sure, I love "I’m A Believer", even enjoyed hearing Backstreet Boys’ "Larger Than Life" on the satellite last night. But those are everybody’s tracks. And I don’t always feel like everybody, I don’t always feel like I belong. And when I feel this way, I listen to the artists that I own, like Wendy Waldman.

I thought she was going to break through. Her first album was a gem. It contained her composition "Vaudeville Man", which Maria Muldaur so famously covered. But none of the first four albums made a huge sales impact, and then after working with Mike Flicker, who made the exquisite Heart debut, Wendy Waldman was dropped by Warner Brothers.

Four years thereafter, she emerged from the desert on Epic. With a stellar cut, " Loving You Out Of My Life", but I’ve never found anybody else who’s heard it.

Then another chance in the late eighties on Cypress, with "Letters Home"… The title cut and "Renegade Side" are classics in my ears, but seemingly my ears only.

But Wendy Waldman is not making candles. She didn’t get her MBA, she didn’t become a lawyer. She kept making music. That’s what an artist does, an artist can’t help him or herself.

She went to Nashville and became a producer. Moved back to L.A. Even downsized to make sure she could cover her nut. But none of this is done out of frustration, there’s no angst… She keeps following the path. You could say it’s about dedication, commitment…but those are inherent, in anyone who’s ever achieved greatness. Raw talent is a small piece of the puzzle. It’s matched and trumped by raw desire. How bad do you want it? Not bad enough.

I’ll give it two years, and then if I don’t make it, I’ll go to law school. I get those e-mails.

Hell, I went to law school first. What a mistake that was. Other than becoming familiar with copyright law, which is so important in this Internet era. I don’t want to help you with your case, I just want to listen to music and let my mind drift, I don’t want to live for the bills.

Everyone’s focusing on theft. But that just obscures the underlying truth. That superstardom is dead. It’s a construct for a different era. When mass media herded all the ears and eyeballs, when you could create a ruckus, alert the press and get everybody to pay attention.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a facelift if you’re playing for 250. They’re there for your music, not your looks. And, as you get older…is it really about looks anyway? We don’t want our artists to stay forever young, we want them to get older, to continue to explore, to reveal more truth.

If you’re fighting aging, if you want to be young again, I hope you feel bliss in the resulting ignorance. I don’t want to give up the knowledge of years gone by. I want artists who can help me understand where I’m at now, who just don’t want to appeal to an evanescent audience of teenagers.

"Restless In Mind" changes my mood the instant it starts to play. It’s like I’m in a fantasy novel, I’ve gone down the rabbit hole, but it’s not scary, it’s a better place than above ground. And sometimes I need to be in that space.