“I wake up in the morning and I raise my weary head

I’ve got an old coat for a pillow and the earth was last night’s bed”

People forget that Jeff Beck played the guitar on “Blaze of Glory,” if they even knew it in the first place.

It was the height of Jovimania. Not quite like Swiftmania, in that it was easier to get a ticket, Bon Jovi wasn’t playing multiple stadium dates, but conversely everybody under the age of fifty knew that Tommy used to work on the docks.  Today we’re living on a prayer, but back in the eighties perception was things were good. Reagan had legitimized greed, but most people didn’t realize that vast income inequality would ensue and ultimately fracture the nation.

And watching the video last night, of Jon Bongiovi back in the eighties, it was apparent how long ago that was. With the big hair and spandex. I lived through it, but at this point it’s laughable, and host Jim Gaffigan did a good job of poking fun at Jon and the era.

Now usually Musicares is all about the schmooze-fest, you can do a year’s worth of business in one night, because everybody is there. As for the music? Only those in the back in tuxedos seem to be paying attention throughout.

So what you’ve got is a bona fide star with too many has-beens and flavors of the moment performing bad renditions of their hits. Even worse, the lag time between songs could be interminable. Then again, that offered the chance to go out in the lobby and kibbitz.

But last night the show ran like live TV. Tight. And that was a blessing.

But what was not expected was how good the performances would be, at least up to a point.

So Bon Jovi opened the show, and the only person I remember doing this is Paul McCartney, a few years back. The band hit the intro to “Magical Mystery Tour” and heads exploded. But I must say, McCartney and his wife were sitting two tables up and I didn’t tingle. Which I found surprising. Not a reflection on the man, but me. Somehow I’ve hit a point where we’re all just people. Doing our thing.

And the thing the musicians do is to take the stage, amp it up, and entertain us. Does not mean they’re reasonable people, does not mean they live reasonable lives, but what it does mean is they can do this one thing, that gains our attention and makes our lives worthwhile.

Bon Jovi began with a new song. Which is not a choice I would make. And did not follow that up with a legendary hit. Then again, the rest of the roster had to do the iconic numbers, right?

Well, I knew that Springsteen was going to come out and play with Jon, but I did not expect them to play “The Promised Land.” The dogs on mainstream howled and we understood that this was the essence of rock and roll. Springsteen showed, despite the recent passing of his mother, and he smiled and played his Fender and all was right in the world. I stood and sang, like so many. “Darkness” is the best Springsteen album, concise and meaningful. And to hear a number live, what else could you expect?

Not much more.

So when Gaffigan started talking about a woman who won Grammys and had breast cancer I figured it was Sheryl Crow, who’s been making the rounds recently.

I was not prepared for Melissa Etheridge. In tight leather pants and a leather cowboy hat. With Larkin Poe as support.

“I’m goin’ down in a blaze of glory

Take me now, but know the truth”

I was stupefied. What I was experiencing was BETTER than the Bon Jovi original. Something I’ve never seen before. Because Melissa put her all into the song, she was the song, and when Etheridge is on… Let me just say her performance of “I’m the Only One” is one of the two best performances I ever saw on Letterman’s late night show. Megan Lovell’s slide guitar didn’t quite reach Beckian heights, but who can?

When it was over… WHEW! I can’t really convey how positively mesmerizing and powerful Melissa’s performance of the number was, you had to be there. And isn’t that the essence of the live concert experience?

Okay, it can only go downhill from here. These Musicares experiences are not transcendent, that’s not the way the evening goes.

But then 39 year old country rap sensation Jelly Roll rolled out on stage and kicked “Bad Medicine” right through the goalpost, probably impressing Robert Kraft, who was sitting at Bon Jovi’s table. Jelly Roll is as wide as he is tall. The antithesis of a rock star. But man, watching him you got it, the energy, the excitement, it felt thrilling to be in the presence of a man having his moment, impacting the culture, breaking all the rules in age and appearance.

Followed by Lainey Wilson’s “We Weren’t Born to Follow.” Not the most major of Bon Jovi hits, but she was into it. She was wearing the de rigueur country hat, and sang with a twang, but she moved her body like a rocker, as if she had no bones. She was wearing a green suit and appeared like no one so much as Gumby. She was feeling it, she was not punching the clock.

And then the man with the voice came out and did “It’s My Life.” Yes, Pat Monahan of Train has the pipes, and this was good, but unlike what came before, it was not transcendent.

Whereupon Shania Twain took the stage. And all I could think about was how Mutt Lange took a middling country act and made her the biggest star in the world. And we all know how it ended, but Shania, er, Eileen, was convincing on “Bed of Roses.” Actually, her performance was better than the song. And her image befit the legend. However, I must admit, and will probably be excoriated for it, she looked she hadn’t had a bite since 2021. I mean to be that skinny…

But then came the second peak. Well, maybe the third if you’re counting “Promised Land.” No one could reach the height of Melissa Etheridge, that was as good as it gets. But Jason Isbell took the stage…

In a nightrider outfit. You know long black coat with matching hat. Like he just got up from the campfire and is gonna play a number on his gee-tar before he saddles up and rides into the next county.

And that gee-tar around his neck is a double-necked Gibson. Which confuses me, because most of the leads, the defining parts, had been played by the backup band.

But then those indelible notes begin. The best, if not the most famous, Bon Jovi song ever, “Wanted Dead Or Alive.” Kept alive by its used in “Deadliest Catch” and elsewhere. Back in the day, Jon and Richie would take the stage and do it acoustic for the masses watching TV.

But last night was fully electric, like the original and…WHO KNEW JASON ISBELL COULD PLAY THE GUITAR!

“It’s all the same, only the names will change

Every day it seems we’re wastin’ away

Another place where the faces are so cold

I’d drive all night just to get back home”

Jaw-dropping. Jason Isbell is an Americana artist. Specializing in heartfelt numbers, sung in a straightforward way. But here he’s screwing up all his power, pushing his voice into the upper register and straining and damn, if that’s not rock and roll… It was like Johnny Cash revisited, but more intense. It was eerie. Isbell was charismatic. A complete surprise and an unbelievable highlight.

I’d like to say the rest was as good.

But Johnny Rzeznik hit the stage with his Goo Goo Dolls partner Robby Takac and all I could think was it was time to change his hairstyle. Bon Jovi has. Yet even more impressive, he’s let his hair go gray. But Rzeznik is locked in amber, it made him into a nostalgia act, and it’s his own fault.

But then The War and Treaty came out and completely redefined “I’ll Be There for You.” This too was even better than the original. They turned it into something akin to a gospel number. Redefined it. Nobody knew who they were, but no one will forget their performance.

And then came the true rockers, from Bon Jovi’s neighborhood. And the disappointment began.

Mammoth WVH thrashed like Musicares performers of the past. Bludgeoned through “It’s My Life” and all you wanted to do was look away.

I will say Sammy Hagar bounced on stage with Orianthi and they blasted through “You Give Love a Bad Name,” but it was faithful to the original, and although it evidenced energy, they were competing with those who’d blown the roof off the place.

In other words, just when I thought this was the second best Musicares ever, the show went downhill.

Oh, number one? No one can top Aretha, ever! Kind of like Prince at the Super Bowl.

The assembled multitude, sans Etheridge, too momentous to play nice with others, did an ensemble version of “Livin’ on a Prayer” to end the evening, and Jon was smiling and everybody was hitting the notes, but all I could think about were Etheridge and Isbell. And The War and Treaty.

Now these industry events are clusterf*cks. Usually most people talk through the performances and leave early, no matter who is on stage. You don’t expect much. So I was gobsmacked by so many performances last night.

And that’s what they were, performances. Up close and personal in an industry environment where…everyone’s seen the trick, everyone is jaded, everyone knows stars, it’s hard to impress the crowd. But last night these acts did their jobs, as in they took the stage and gave it their all. I’m sophisticated enough to know that offstage they are almost never these people (excluding Steven Tyler, that’s who this cat really is, 24/7). But even if you can’t suspend disbelief, when the music is playing you let go, you’re caught up in it, you sing at the top of your lungs.

Speaking of which, when I sang the echo “wanted” during “Wanted Dead or Alive” David Bryan turned around and gave me a look…

So you had to be there.

Because these were once in a lifetime performances. And three were definitely worth seeing and will continue to be remembered. It’s nearly impossible to hit these heights, some people stop even trying. No one can perform at 11 every night, even though Springsteen tries. But when you give it your all and deliver that extra indefinable something…

That’s rock and roll.