On the other hand…

I mean I’m sitting there at Musicares… All those label people? They don’t attend anymore, that’s not where the money is, it’s all in live. And Mariah Carey was honored and it was weird, because everybody involved in breaking her was not there. Donnie Ienner worked me hard on “Vision of Love,” and needless to say Tommy Mottola was in a relationship with Mariah, married her…

So it made me feel old. Like the music world had passed me by.

And then I went to the Troubadour last night.

Sitting up in the bleachers I had a long conversation with David Macias, whose Thirty Tigers is the bleeding edge of quality distribution. What I mean is…if he’s involved, it’s worth paying attention… All the acts the majors no longer invest in, he’s the man… Like with Lucinda Williams. He’s even got an Amy Grant album coming out.

And David started philosophizing, about today’s music being regressive, that’s the word he used. How it was looking backwards, he wanted to put out records that were something new, that pushed the envelope, and he’s working on that.

But ultimately the show began.

I mean get old enough, and you start to feel removed.

But last night’s show reinvigorated me, illustrated that the problem was not me, but the music being purveyed by the big time industry.

There were no hard drives. People played their instruments. The music was alive and it breathed.

And rather than dancing queens, we got endless ladies who showed how far women in music have come.

All I can say is you have to see Rhiannon Giddens to get her. The passion…she was in the moment, she melded with the music, it was riveting.

Sierra Hull performed the one song I was hoping to hear, “Look Out for My Love,” which Linda Ronstadt covered so exquisitely on her “new wave” album “Mad Love.” Check it out if you don’t know this version, it amps up the song, gives it added gravitas.

Chris Pierce? I’d never heard of the guy, but he channeled Paul Robeson doing “Ol’ Man River,” only in this case it was “Southern Man,” which Pierce slowed down to a dirge and bellowed…it was like watching a movie, it was more than the song, more than a performance, it was a PRESENCE!

Margo Price… Speaking of Ronstadt, Margo did “Love is a Rose” and evidenced such charisma that when she was gone you could feel the absence, she is a star.

Molly Tuttle made me like a song I never did. She took “Helpless” out of the ether with a more full-bodied version than the original. And she picked a few notes to boot. Everybody could play. Sierra Hull…

Maggie Rose belted the choruses of “Down By the River,” and urged those in attendance to join along, and I don’t know about everybody else, but I could not hold myself back.

Katie Pruitt I’d never heard of, but she picked the notes in “Ohio”… And even though it’s over half a century old, I felt the spirit of Minneapolis in the room.

Young the Giant? I never got them, but they sang a powerful version of “Old Man” that had me reflecting on my own life, where I’d been, who I am now… That’s what we want from music, to set our minds free, so they can float down the river of thought..

Jesse Welles, the man of the moment, did “After the Gold Rush” and didn’t walk off immediately, so I thought he was going to break into his anti-ICE song, but alas, that did not happen.

Grace Potter evidenced more spirit, more of the rock and roll ethos than any woman I saw on the Grammy telecast. You could tell it was coming from deep inside, her soul, she was a rock chick, there was nothing calculated about her performance whatsoever.

And there was Sara Watkins and the Milk Carton Kids and even more, but all I can tell you is I started off the show at a distance, but about a third of the way in I was totally involved, I became one with the music… No, it was more than that, it was the atmosphere, the vibe, like David Byrne once sang, it was the same as it ever was.

Yet it wasn’t old farts, but young ‘uns. Just when I thought the formula was lost, I found that it had been channeled by a younger generation, removed from the vapid, cringe-worthy mainstream, keeping it alive and extending it. These people could play and sing and there was no dancing involved… It was about the music, pure and simple, nothing more was necessary, and it touched every single person in the place.

At dinner we were talking about how hard it is to get us out. Because we’ve seen all the acts, in their heyday, and the new ones…

When I left the Troubadour last night there was a bounce in my step. I felt not only did the people and the music still have it, but SO DID I! I may be closer to death, but everything that excited me, that drew me to the sound, was still there, alive and cooking.

I only wish you were there.