He was a friend of mine.

Too often famous artists are unapproachable, glum, they see you coming and they clam up or run.

But that was not Phil. Phil almost always had a smile on his face. He was open to discussion. He was as passionate and excited talking about the albums of yore as those of tomorrow. He was unknown to most, but to those of us who read the credits…he was a god.

The credits. They started on 45s. Who were these writers? The producers? There was obviously a whole world behind the face, but we really had no idea who they were until the album era. When there were gatefold sleeves and oftentimes all we knew about records what was what was imprinted upon them. That’s where I first remember encountering Phil’s name, all over “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon.”

When the history of rock and roll is rewritten, Paul Simon’s second solo album will be in the top five of all time, it’s just that damn good. I can’t see why it’s been forgotten. All these years later it seems all people want to talk about is Simon & Garfunkel and Paul’s world music forays, and, of course, “Still Crazy After All These Years,” but “Rhymin’ Simon” is Paul’s second masterpiece, after “Bookends.” And it’s the songs, the performances, but first and foremost the SOUND!

“Rhymin’ Simon” sounded as good out of the car speaker as it did pumping from a high end sound system. How did they do that?

Phil Ramone.

Talk to a twenty year old today and he’ll be clueless as to Phil.

But he’ll know his records.

Most of us fade away, those who create indelible art live on, through their work.

Yes, “Rhymin’ Simon” may have curiously faded away, but Billy Joel’s tracks are still front and center. And if you think the artists are similar, you probably believe a pitcher and a shortstop are the same thing. But they’re not.

That was Phil’s skill. He was malleable. He served the material. He didn’t have a sound, unless you want to call it purity. There was nothing between Phil’s records and the listener. No scrim, no static, just sound.

And unlike so many, Phil had success when he was young, and kept on having it as he grew older. You see he had a career, where most believe it’s about a peak of fame. No, you woodshed, you wait for your time, if you’re great, your efforts will lead to more, you’ll triumph.

No one has the patience anymore. But Phil started before the Beatles. Before anyone knew the riches to be rained down in the music business. Now the MTV paradigm reigns. Just make it famous, spam everybody, beat them upon the head until they know. Whereas when Phil began, it was about sound instead of promotion. And upon this foundation, Phil did his great work.

And I knew Phil by accident. Felice’s brother-in-law was one of his best friends. But Phil was always nice to me, he had no airs, and he was open to anything and everything new and exciting. He wasn’t dead, but fully alive.

Although he’s gone now.

Seventy nine years. That’s a good run. Longer than many.

And he never retired. He worked until he passed. Retirement is not an option for someone who loves what he does, who does it so well, he still gets the call.

And that was Phil.

And it’s sad that he’s gone.

But the records live on.