Paul Shaffer’s Book
Is worth the price for the Dylan stories alone.
Although I was addicted to Letterman in the eighties, when Paul led the Most Dangerous Band, before the switch to 11:30, when "Late Night" was seemingly an extension of seventies SNL, often as funny and frequently as inventive, that’s not why I bought this book.
Yes, I remember when Paul still had hair and imitated Don Kirshner so well. Before he almost became a caricature of himself. But the reason I’m reading "We’ll Be Here For The Rest Of Our Lives: A Swingin’ Show-biz Saga" has little to do with the man himself and everything to do with the final sentence of the review in last Sunday’s "New York Times":
"…it will delight those looking for persuasive evidence that making music for a living is every bit as cool as it seems."
Wow, what a concept!
Used to be musicians were a special club. Today’s businessmen wet behind the ears complain about the big bad company, how they’re being ripped off, they do endorsement deals, they’re little corporations. Musicians used to be players. Hell, they still are. It’s just that very few "artists" are musicians anymore.
Paul Shaffer tells about killing it at the synagogue.
Yes, many musicians start very young. Their initial gigs aren’t on MTV, they’ve got a long history of playing live. Like at the Brass Rail. That was Paul’s breakthrough gig in Toronto, a strip club. Where he played seven straight hours a night, from 6 p.m to 1 a.m., fifty minute sets with only a ten minute break, announcing the dancers’ arrival and departure.
You learn your chops in these circumstances. Not that Paul Shaffer saw the gig as a stepping stone, he felt he’d finally made it!
So criticize Paul all you want, but he can certainly play. Seemingly anything. And he learned how from all those years on stage.
Slowly, he got into the fraternity. On tour with the Blues Brothers, he encountered "sweet, sweet Connie". If you don’t know who that is, you’re too young, or never listened to the radio. She had the whole show in Little Rock, according to Grand Funk Railroad’s "We’re An American Band", and this night Paul Shaffer had her himself, twice. (And don’t pooh-pooh this track, produced by Todd Rundgren, it’s Grand Funk’s apotheosis, an exquisite three minute concoction).
Paul speaks about being nervous backing up Ray Charles when he hosted SNL.
But his best stories have to do with Dylan. Dour Dylan. Who seems to be a world apart until he finally speaks. When he turns into little Bobby Zimmerman from down the street.
Paul barges into Dylan’s dressing room on the Letterman show. Starts testifying. If you’ve never done this, you’ve had no access to stars. But you eventually stop, because you get Dylan’s reaction more often than not. Silence. But after far too many beats, Dylan speaks and says…
"’Paul, do you think you could introduce me to Larry "Bud" Melman?’"
A Letterman fixture, this is hilarious if you watched the old show.
If not, it falls flat.
And that’s just the point. Few may care about the backstage shenanigans, the jam sessions, the contact with stars that musicians experience. But to them and music fans it’s EVERYTHING!
We want to wax rhapsodic about the shows we’ve attended, the one where this guy sat in or was in the audience or the act played a rare tune.
If you’ve ever been backstage, you know usually nothing thrilling happens there. But we’re always thrilled to be a part of it. Which is exactly what the audience wants. That’s why they want access, they want to be included!
As a result of a lot of practice and a lot of desire and a bit of luck, Paul Shaffer has now been included. And he’s loving it!
The Kindle sample includes these Dylan stories. Like Paul and Dave bantering about what song Dylan should play on the anniversary special and then Paul calling Bob to discuss it. Unfortunately, the free excerpt on the Amazon web page is a different passage.
I’m only twenty percent in, but when the free sample ended, I immediately purchased the book! I’m enjoying the stories of growing up in a Jewish family, of the description of his parents as swingers, although the timeline is a bit fuzzy, as if Paul had done so many drugs he could no longer remember things in order. But the passion, of a fan, shines through brightly.
In a world of glitz, where the goal is to have your mug everywhere, Paul has lived mostly behind the scenes with exactly what we desire, a backstage pass to the music, access to seemingly every star ever. Paul may seem out of touch on TV, but reading his book you believe he’s totally in touch. He worships the talent, he worships the lifestyle, not the Rollers and the Benzes, but the up all night let it blow ethos.
I’m digging it!
