So I’m telling Don Was how good the Stones album is.

No, actually that’s untrue. I was talking to Jerry and Sue. Who I know from the Palisades. They were fish out of water, they’re social friends of Barnett, they wanted to know…WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?

So I introduce them to Don Passman, who comes walking by. I tell them he literally wrote the book. I expected that to get a laugh, but it was a noisy party and Don needed to move on and…

I was anxious. I don’t want to judge any of these people, like Joni Mitchell, but I always wonder where my place is in these assemblages. Everybody seems to know everybody, everybody is having a good time, how do I navigate, how long before I can leave?

But then Mr. Was shows up.

Actually, Mr. Fagenson. He’s only half a year older than me. There’s a nexus between two Jews, although he’s so much cooler than I am. And I didn’t check whether he was wearing his flip-flops, but that’s his trademark, even in Toronto in the middle of March, where I first met him. Don is Don 24/7.

And he also produced one of the greatest records of all time.

Yes, he works with the Stones. Yes, he cut Bonnie Raitt’s comeback/breakthrough album “Nick Of Time,” but the one after that…

“Luck Of The Draw” is one of the great albums ever. Bonnie’s one of the few who ever hit a second peak. “Give It Up” is classic, she didn’t come close again, and then nearly twenty years later she superseded her prior career, WHEW!

One part be my lover.

One part go away.

I was married to that person. She didn’t want to be with me, but she didn’t want to get divorced.

And just as good is the title cut.

These things we do to keep the flame burnin’
And write our fire in the sky

We’re all trying to write our fire in the sky, that’s why we move to Los Angeles. Most fail. But those who succeed become icons.

And those who survive in this business deserve respect, like Don Was. Most people can’t work anymore, that’s the dirty little secret.

So we’re talking Stones. Don’s telling me how they made the new record. How everybody knew they were on to something but no one wanted to say anything, afraid it would kill the magic.

And I’m worried about Jerry and Sue. They didn’t know how long to stand there waiting for me to re-engage them. I introduced them to Don, but this ended up being a one on one conversation, and Mr. Was was not jonesing to move on.

Which Jerry and Sue eventually did.

And we’re talking Gregory Porter, and I’m about to go deep on some songwriting theory and…

I feel a presence over my shoulder, someone’s being ushered up to Don, to be introduced. An old guy with white hair.

It’s Bob Seger.

Now let me tell you, this was not a star-studded affair. Eventually I saw Nancy Wilson, but this was a business party. Old execs, wannabes…

But now it’s Bob Seger. Who’s got those slightly crooked buck teeth and he’s inches away and he’s getting into it with Don and I’m standing there thinking…

How long is this gonna last?

And at what point can I enter the conversation?

Now I’d been introduced. But needless to say, keeping his music off Spotify, Seger’s got no idea who I am. Which I can handle. But suddenly I’m Jerry and Sue… How long do I stand here until I move on?

I know the rules, I can’t let on that I’m a fan. Maybe I’ll tell him how good he was at the Frey memorial, that was an invitation-only affair.

But then Bob starts talking about his new album, cut in Nashville, a tribute to Glenn Frey!

And Don asks him who’s playing on it and Seger says “Kenny Greenberg,” and I know Kenny and can talk this game but…

Should I stay or should I go?

One thing I know for sure, if I go there won’t be trouble. I won’t be missed. But I was in a genuine conversation with Don that might be picked up, can I fight my inner dialogue and stand my ground?

But then the photographer shows up.

No way I’m gonna be in this picture. I’m the opposite of a glommer-on. If you ask me, maybe…

But after the first pic Don puts his arm around my shoulder, the three of us get photographed, my bona fides have been established as Bob goes on and then…

Ryan Adams pops up between us.

And I’m stunned how young Ryan appears up close and personal. He’s veritably cherubic, he’s fresh-faced, and he then says…

NOW I’VE FOUND THE PARTY!

And that’s when it occurred to me, Bob Seger was just like me, but even worse. He was all alone, and when he found the one person he knew and respected, also from Detroit, there was no way he was gonna let go.

And now the three of them are talking and my spilkes is driving me crazy. I don’t want to appear a hanger-on, so I tell Don I’m gonna make my exit.

And I do.

THE AFTERMATH

It was a cornucopia of players. I’m talking about those who work the phone, not those who pluck the strings. Then again, isn’t that the problem, that too few of today’s artists know how to play?

So, I spoke with Jeff Jones, of Beatles, Inc., who told me the Ron Howard film grossed twelve million, that it was a success. You should view it, you’ll get goosebumps when you see the Fab Four way back when.

And after consorting with Irving and Lucian and Peter Paterno, I noticed the oldsters over my shoulder… Bhaskar Menon, Don Zimmermann, Rupert Perry…

But by this time I was engaged in conversation with John Sykes. Who was telling me about arranging a meeting between Leon Russell and Eric Clapton decades after they’d last played together.

And now I was in the groove, I felt comfortable, people wanted to talk to me, but I had no idea how long to engage, I was worried I was committing faux pas, not paying enough attention… Is saying hi enough? Is shaking hands enough?

I became engaged in a long conversation with Dan Wilson and his wife about the state of the arts today, as well as the state of the country, and then I realized it was nearly ten and my mission was complete. The hitters were gone, all that was left were the wannabes.

And at one time or another we’re all wannabes. But then we move to Los Angeles, a place where where you went to college is irrelevant, as is your parentage, unless it’s Hollywood royalty. We all begin at the same starting line. The gun goes off and we network and go down blind alleys and if we become skilled enough, we last.

And then time moves on and we’re plowed under and replaced.

I was talking with Hale Milgrim. I told him I remembered when he presided over the 50th anniversary, with the multi-CD set and the book and…

I didn’t want to tell Bob Seger that it was no longer the way it used to be, that albums were passe. But if he could record one great track, another “Night Moves,” maybe even a “Still The Same,” we were all ears. But the truth is most oldsters can no longer hit the mark. But they remember….

When being a musician was the highest calling in America. Screw being President, you wanted to play, you had influence and money and sex and… You were a king!

But you had to figure out a way to make it happen.

Once upon a time Glenn Frey was managed by Punch, that’s what Seger said.

But Glenn had to wait until he found Irving before he could become a superstar.

You need to be in the room where it happens.

Tonight I was.

And those Hollywood nights, in those Hollywood hills, above all the lights, it was giving me chills.

The people telling us to give Trump a chance are the same overpaid wankers who missed the tsunami that got him elected.

The most educated person I’ve ever known was Tony Wilson, majordomo of Factory Records. Want to know more? Pull up “24 Hour Party People,” the movie they made about his life. You’ll learn about the Hacienda, Happy Mondays and the genesis of dance music culture, it will not be a wasted two hours.

And being with Anthony H. Wilson was never a waste of time.

Tony’s dead now. The Big C got him back in 2007. He was fine just the fall before, when I was in Manchester, he had a conference there called “In The City,” and although it never made much money, it was a fountain of stimulation. Tony dug down deep into the music archives and extracted such people as Hank Shocklee, the legendary hip-hop producer, as well as attracting luminaries like Matthew Knowles and seemingly everybody who was anybody in the English music business. That’s where I met Richard Russell, the most successful A&R man working today, with a track record almost as good as Pixar’s, as well as coming face to face with Chris Blackwell and so many other famous names.

I always flew in the day before so Tony and I could hang. We’d catch up on our personal lives, the state of the music business, and then Tony would teach me history, give me a tour of the landmarks, take me to Liverpool to see the Mersey… He once took me to Town Hall and told me the backstory of paintings that went back hundreds of years, each and every one of them.

And he also told me about his first job out of Cambridge, at Granada Television, being the man behind the scenes at the TV news.

Now Tony’s version of the story was that the anchor screwed up. The anchor blamed the problem on Tony.

And what was the problem?

The European football scores were reversed. This was the late night Saturday news, and the anchor said the winner was the loser and the loser was the winner and…

On Monday morning the big boss called Tony into his office and said he was going to fire him.

Tony was aghast. He believed it wasn’t his fault and this was a bad beginning and who cared about these foreign scores anyway?

Which is exactly what the big boss said. That no one cared about the European football scores on the late night telecast. But if they couldn’t even get that right, the viewers would wonder what else were they getting wrong!

This story always stuck with me. It’s the tells that make you suspicious. The guy who brags he’s so rich and then shows up in a Ford Fiesta. The one who mispronounces the name of the club. Who cares what kind of car someone drives, who cares whether the pronunciation is right, but if he’s lying about this, WHAT ELSE IS HE LYING ABOUT?

I can’t read the newspaper. Never mind watch television. Donald Trump ran for President in plain sight and these people missed it, all of them. What else are they missing?

I know, I know, everybody’s talking about fake news and how you should buy and trust your local newspaper but I’m not so sure anymore. Especially after reading that “Bloomberg Businessweek” story about the nitwit who bought Tribune and turned it into tronc. Rupert Murdoch is not the only one who purveys biased news.

It’s bad folks, it’s very bad. And for those of you who voted for Trump who wanted change?

Get back to me when your daughter can’t get an abortion. He’s already gone on record he wants to overturn Roe v. Wade.

And if you’re counting on a social safety net if you lose your job, or for protection from the crowd, good luck. It was open season on black people when Obama was in office. Now?

The newspaper was the ultimate filter, the curator. Then we found out the media missed so many stories. It’s the web that surfaces the non-mainstream stuff. As for Trump… Anybody who interacted online could gauge his support. Hell, I’m gonna get hate mail for writing this!

We’ve got to push back. We’ve got to take over the Democratic Party from its present ruling faction, which is so deep in the bubble it can’t see the exit. Kind of like SNL. I’ve got to hear every week how great it is, but then I pull up the clips AND THEY’RE NOT FUNNY!

I’m reeling. I used to trust the institutions, now I no longer do.

This is not about the “lamestream media,” that’s just Sarah Palin and the rest of the right wingers working the refs. But the truth is the left wing is afraid of the refs, it won’t push back.

So I’m pushing back.

Someone needs to lose their job over this. Not only Billy Bush, but the person in charge of the polling for the “New York Times,” that person has got to go, the whole team has to go. Actions have consequences, and these people threw the election, believe me, if the numbers showed Trump ahead Democrats would have gotten out and voted, not been complacent. Judith Miller got us into Iraq, she got booted. Boot a few more!

But no, the “New York Times” is paying fealty to the Rust Belt, saying it will do better, which is kind of like a serial rapist saying he’ll keep his pants zipped up from here on out, huh?

If you’re making seven figures a year at the TV station your life is good. You can wait for change. You’ve got a contract, you believe you’ll adjust.

If you’re working for the paper, you think daddy will protect you. You’re not like the rest of us, who gave up full employment and are now independent contractors trying to put food on the table as we pay for rent, never mind health insurance.

As for reporters… With their inane “who, what, why, where and when,” never mind “how,” that’s not the era we live in any more. There’s an expert in every field and he or she is testifying online and let’s amplify their voices instead of the words of these know-nothings.

That’s right, I was at lunch Friday with a heavy hitter, the toppermost of the entertainment world, and I asked him if reporters ever called him… He said ALL THE TIME! Did they know anything? NOTHING! And was the article ever right? NEVER!

This happens to me on a regular basis. Some of the most trusted news outlets extant will call me for a quote. The reporter knows nothing about the subject, I take half an hour to explain it and they still get it wrong. Even worse, some of these ignoramuses argue with me because what I’m saying doesn’t fit their narrative.

Once again, if they can’t get entertainment reporting right, what are the odds they’re getting it right on the big issues, like politics?

And politics is the big issue right now, it’s everything.

Be very afraid. This is not business as usual. We’re down for the count and they’re playing with brass knuckles. An anti-Semite in the cabinet? What’s next, expelling Muslims?

You bet. No one is safe. And if you think I’m being histrionic you never grew up in a family, where the parents have absolute power.

The Republicans have absolute power. They control each and every branch of the government. And if you’re expecting the media to protect us…

As Judas Priest so eloquently put it…

You’ve got another thing comin’.

“Tronc If You Want to Save Journalism”

Leon Russell – Spotify

I do not want to be the guy who writes obituaries. Especially of faded acts most people have never heard of. But Leon Russell was a superstar, albeit for a very brief time. He rose from obscurity, after hiding in plain sight for years before that, to become one of the biggest stars in the land based on a weird amalgamation of image and talent, and those who lived through the era will never forget him, COULD NEVER FORGET HIM!

It was all about “Delta Lady.” On the second Joe Cocker LP, someone also strangely gone, despite his rendition of that Beatles tune eclipsing the fame of the original, I mean come on, when was the last time you heard “With A Little Help From My Friends” if you weren’t at a Ringo SHOW! Of course I’m overstating my case, and that’s the problem with rock aficionados, they’re nitpickers, they want to set you straight to make themselves feel good, but don’t criticize them, they lived through an era when music was a treasure hunt, when it expanded from 45s to LPs and you read the credits and combed the bins trying to discover who these people were and oftentimes the only way to hear the music was to buy it and when you did…it was like opening a Dead Sea Scroll, breaking the shrinkwrap, dropping the needle on something that got no airplay but meant everything to you. Hell, you’d seek out out-of-print records at swaps and cut-out bins, and when you got your hands on them you were thrilled. And when I got my hands on Leon Russell’s Shelter debut, which I bought in a shop in a mall in Bridgeport, Connecticut anchored by Sears which is now a community college, I got home and dropped the needle and was WOWED! It was like I was the only person in the universe who had heard this music, and I wanted to tell EVERYBODY!

That 1970 LP opened with “A Song For You,” but this was eons before covers made it a staple. Funny how your compositions can eclipse your recorded fame. Then again, musical styles come and go, but a great tune can be reworked and reused forever, it touched souls then and it touches souls now and back then “A Song For You” was just the opening track, not iconic, I wouldn’t even put it at the top in quality, I bought the album to hear Leon’s version of “Delta Lady.”

Now back to that Joe Cocker LP. The track that got all the airplay at first was “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window.” This was BEFORE “Abbey Road.” It was a special curio we had no idea was supposed to be heard in the context of a suite. And the iteration of “Darling Be Home Soon” nearly eclipses the Lovin’ Spoonful original. But the song that ultimately prevailed on FM radio, which was gaining steam in the New York market, singles were being left in the dust, was “Delta Lady.”

Oh you’re mine, yes, you’re mine, Delta Lady.

You can show your pedigree by shouting out who the song is about, but this is not a test, this is a religious service, “Delta Lady” is an under three minute tear anchored by boogie-woogie-esque piano and a backup chorus and it’s perfection until you hear…

Leon’s recording.

Leon’s is the same song yet different, it’s got a swagger, it’s a Hollywood production number that could have been featured on one of those variety programs that still dominated the television airwaves. Leon’s vocal was as rough and unique and almost as good as Joe’s, and this is rarely the case, the writer’s take is oftentimes a poor imitation.

Imagine this, dropping the needle on the record of someone unknown and being BLOWN AWAY!

And the funny thing about this slightly slower “Delta Lady” is that it had everything, INCLUDING THE KITCHEN SINK, in the production. It was like they went out on Sunset Boulevard and recruited every member of the AF of M to come in and add magic, levitate the building. That’s right, coming out of the speakers was a sound so mellifluous it made you want to crawl into your stereo and join the musical circus. Which we did, the Beatles get deserved accolades, but there were second and third waves. The second was Cream and Jimi Hendrix from the U.K., but then L.A. took over, it was where it was happening, everybody who’d paid their dues suddenly emerged intact to dominate.

But “Delta Lady” was not the only killer on the solo debut. (That’s right, Leon had made music with Marc Benno that had lived in obscurity as the Asylum Choir but it resurfaced after Leon broke through.) I actually preferred the second cut on the album, “Dixie Lullaby” to the opener, “A Song For You.” It swung, this was not a developing artist, he was FULLY-FORMED! And you’ve got to hear “Shoot Out On The Plantation” and “Hummingbird,” but the tour-de-force is the album’s closer, “Roll Away The Stone.”

Roll away the stone
Don’t leave me here alone
Resurrect and protect me
Don’t leave me laying here
What will they do in two thousand years

Probably not listen to Leon Russell records, never mind the Beatles, but the essence of music, the way it infects you in this track, that will remain.

And all because of credits on the back of the “Joe Cocker!” album. Leon Russell wrote “Delta Lady” and co-produced it and I followed this information down the rabbit hole into a world of happiness.

And then came “Mad Dogs & Englishmen.”

I saw it. At the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, New York. There was a bit of advance word, but nothing could prepare you for this extravaganza of twenty-odd players and singers who came to town to overwhelm you and leave you talking about it for months afterward, until the double live album came out and everybody got the message.

And the majordomo was the silver-haired devil himself, Joe Cocker was barely more than a bit player, the star was the guy in the top hat, Leon Russell.

And it ruined Joe’s career, he lost control, he drank too much, it would be years before he righted the ship, but suddenly, Leon Russell was a SUPERSTAR!

Imagine that. New bands play Coachella and despite press no one reads they never break through. This guy goes on a tour long before the information age takes hold and he emerges a household name!

And then came “Leon Russell And The Shelter People.”

It was all about “Stranger In A Strange Land.” It was like this sound emerged from a swamp and you couldn’t help but wade in and be sucked down. Long before musicians sold out, when the music was enough, Leon Russell held the hearts and minds of a generation in his hand, he was a leader who infected them with his self-created sound and they couldn’t get enough.

And one of my favorite memories occurred decades later, in a hotel room with Tommy Nast long after midnight during one of those ubiquitous radio conferences which no longer exist wherein Mr. Nast proceeded to recite the entire rap which ends “Stranger In A Stranger Land” word for word, that was the power of music, we needed to know it by HEART!

And now Leon Russell is surfing the zeitgeist, when being a musician is the apotheosis, no one wanted to be President, they just wanted to get on the bus, work in the studio, sell records in a shop, they just needed to get CLOSER!

And the third solo album began with “Tight Rope,” another composition that has sustained. But the best track is probably the follow-up, “Out In The Woods.” Yet my favorite song is “If The Shoe Fits.”

Can you get us in free
My girlfriend and me
We like the songs, but we hate to pay

I swear to god, I’m walking into Watkins Glen with the ticket I purchased and as the guard is saying it’s now a free concert “If The Shoe Fits” comes over the PA, HONESTLY!

And then Leon pushed it over the limit with his triple-disc concert album “Leon Live” which I actually bought and barely listened to, went country, got married, seemed to lose the plot and was forgotten, almost that fast. Your hold on fame is very tenuous. But talent is forever.

And now he’s dead.

I could go back to the studio years. Talk about playing on “This Diamond Ring” and helping compose “She’s Just My Style,” one of the few Beach Boys-inspired tracks that actually works, I can write about the beginning of the live years with Delaney & Bonnie, I can take you from there to here but when someone dies it’s not about informing those out of the loop but reminding those who were actually there how special the work of the person was, and Leon Russell’s was certainly special.

So now what.

We didn’t expect these players to outlive us, but we did think they’d ride with us until the end, say goodbye and get off the train at a similar time. I mean once you’ve escaped the drug years, once you’ve made it past fifty, you’re supposed to still hang around, right?

I guess not.

I don’t expect anybody under the age of thirty to know what I’m talking about, they think a star is someone who self-promotes online and gets paid, they don’t understand it’s all about paying dues with the hope of bursting into a supernova, knowing only a few have the juice and the rest have to get out of the way.

And if you’re under forty you might remember Leon Russell as that guy Elton John made an album with, but other than that you’re probably clueless.

But if you’re a baby boomer, this is someone you knew, whose music was in the air, someone who rode shotgun with your life that will soon come to an end also.

And just about everything that was important to us will be forgotten. It’s already being forgotten. You get a few hosannas in the media when these personages go, but after new tweets replace the old, when the news cycle moves on, there’s rarely another word.

Leon Russell’s story is an American one. How someone from nowhere, godforsaken Oklahoma, can end up dominating the culture, our entire nation, based on talent and hard work, whew!

Leon’s story is one of a bygone era, when music told you which way the wind blew, when you couldn’t wait to go on a journey with your heroes, the most famous and oftentimes richest people in the land.

I don’t know who goes next. Who walks the plank and is gone forever. I fear the leavings will become de rigueur, they will be seen as the way of the world, the passing of the baton to a younger generation. But that would be missing the point.

And the point is for a period of years, now gone, music dominated the world, it was the culture. And it made more money than movies, music built Time Warner Cable. And just like Warner Music was cast off by the conglomerate today music is a second class citizen. MTV made it about fame, about looks and dancing, the penumbra as opposed to the nougat. And then the internet blew a hole in not only the compensation paradigm, but the ability to dominate. And what once was, is now gone.

That’s right, boomers lived through a golden musical era. They were late to the digital age, many have not caught up. Good times are still ahead, but they’re very different from the times we had. When you were addicted to the radio, when you heard something and didn’t stop there, but dug deeper and found jewels, when you went to clubs and theatres to see acts so innovative you wondered if they came from Mars.

Leon Russell was one of those people. He gave us shelter. He provided asylum in a confusing world. I have no idea who’s giving us shelter from Donald Trump, but I do know Leon and the rest of the free thinkers showed us the world was not run by Richard Nixon.

How many days has it been
Since I was born
How many days until I die
Do I know any ways
That I can make you laugh
Or do I only know how to make you cry

Today I’m crying, but Leon you did make me laugh, with the joy of being alive, of hearing a great tune, of being exposed to exquisite musicianship, you made me feel like I belonged, that I was not a stranger in a strange land.

And for that I thank you.

God bless.

Nothin’ But The Truth – Spotify

Nothin’ But The Truth – YouTube

There’s no room for white men in the Democratic Party, hardworking individuals who believe they’re doing the right thing and just want to feed their families, and drink a little beer…

That’s what Van Jones said on the David Axelrod podcast.

I’ll be honest, it’s been too surreal. Like we’re living in a sci-fi/horror movie, but when the monster comes on nobody laughs and the lights never go up, and you start to realize half of the audience is with you and half is against, and the half that’s against, they want their pound of flesh.

That’s right, it’s a “Merchant Of Venice” reference, hopefully they still teach Shakespeare in high school, although I skipped the bard in college because the egotist blowhard teaching the subject rubbed me the wrong way, I couldn’t imagine spending a whole semester with him.

And many people can’t imagine spending four more years with a Democrat.

That’s another thing Van Jones said in that podcast, that when he left Tennessee for Yale Law School the students in New Haven made fun of him, even the African-Americans, he didn’t know the words, he wasn’t as well read, he didn’t go to Stanford, never mind Andover, he was behind the curve. Jones decided to beat these wankers at their own game, by reading, which is what put these people ahead of him in the first place. And I experienced that firsthand, at Middlebury, I thought the guy pronouncing Celtic with a “K” was an uneducated nitwit, but it was I who was uninformed, I went to a college composed of 45% prep school graduates, taught me a thing or two, which most people never learn. That was the advantage of going to Middlebury, seeing how the other half lived. Most people never see how the other half lives. And the other half… In their NPR holier-than-thou attitude they become hatable, and are rejected.

Van Jones said that too. Very gently. I’m histrionic, he’s calm. And when he talked about fathers…

My mind was blown. You see you can’t be a man anymore, they don’t need men, and of course I’m overstating, but the truth is there’s no discussion of rape, not amongst reasonable people, it’s a third rail topic, taboo, and someone accused is guilty, in some cases even if proven innocent. And I don’t mean women aren’t taken advantage of, I’m not saying that when they come forth their lives aren’t ruined, all I’m saying is if you’re a man, you can shut up…

Or vote for Donald Trump.

There, I said it.

I don’t want to hear any more about the popular vote, or the lack of turnout. Donald Trump won, fair and square. By the rules as written. Try to change them if you want, but we couldn’t even pass the Equal Rights Amendment, good luck.

So, if we want change, we have to start with ourselves. We have to cast aside our own prejudices, be more accepting, let others into the tent, otherwise the Democratic Party is doomed. It can’t win with only the intelligentsia and the Latinos and African-Americans, Trump just proved that.

Not that I’m not scared, I’m scared plenty.

Did you see that story in the “New York Times,” about an increase in hate activity on campus since the election, brazen actions? Is it trumped up or real, who knows, because the truth is I can no longer trust the “Times,” not because the right wing denigrated it, but because it got it so wrong, and is so old school, believing the institution is more important than its employees. No, we live in a world of stars, and they keep leaving the “Times,” because there’s no room for them to stretch out and be them, whether it be Nate Silver or Frank Rich. All we’ve got left is faceless workers beholden to the Gray Lady, and that just sucks.

But the point is, we’re all Jews now, we’re all African-Americans.

Anti-Semitism?

Can I tell you about the time they spray-painted “Jew” and a Star of David on my garage? How did they know? I’d only been living in my abode briefly and hadn’t interacted with anybody!

Be very afraid.

That’s Tavis Smiley’s point, that we’re all African-Americans now, who’ve been enduring hatred and discrimination from time immemorial, now we know what it feels like. And we know you can never give up on fighting back.

But right now I’m reeling.

I certainly can’t believe in media institutions, it wasn’t only the “Times” that got it wrong, it’s like everybody ignored an entire swath of Americans. Not all Trump voters are bad people, but when they’re constantly told they are, when they keep ceding economic territory as the elites fight over microaggressions, they dig their heels in in protest. It’s kind of like rioters burning down their own neighborhoods. You might think it’s stupid, but when you’ve got nothing and no one’s paying attention you don’t care. And after the Rodney King verdict rioters invaded Hollywood. Are we safe in America or not?

I’m worried about the Supreme Court.

But I don’t think the average person even knows how it works. That the justices hold the legality of abortion in their own little hands, that they ride herd over voter laws and corporate donations and so much more. It’s always the fine print that’ll get you. But no one cares about the fine print anymore, but how could you, every time you download new software, which seemingly happens every day, you’ve got to agree to conditions that even a lawyer couldn’t decipher, that take away all your rights and force you into arbitration.

So…

I’m not sure where I fit in anymore.

And I’m not the only one.

But one thing I know for sure is Mac McAnally’s song “Nothin’ But The Truth” has been playing in my head this week. Because of these lines:

I was knockin’ around in the grocery store, baby
On the night of the last election

Songs hook us up to the universe, they not only build culture, they give us something to grab on to. And it only matters if the song is important to us, no chart or sales action can convince us otherwise, it’s an emotional response.

Mac McAnally was the new country hope. And with the launch of his eponymous label David Geffen decided to conquer all genres. He signed Mac. Mac’s album failed.

It came out in 1983. I’m holding the vinyl in my hands right now. This was just before CDs, I’ve still got all my records, not for the fidelity so much as the history, this is my life, I bought each and every one, I know them all. It may be worthless information to you, but it’s everything to me.

We was flippin’ the pages in the bookstore, baby
When I realized we hit the skids
I got a book about contraceptives
And you got a book about kids

Differences, they can break up a relationship.

But if you stay with “Nothin’ But The Truth” you find out that is not the case in this instance:

We’ve been together for so long, baby
We both have had the urge to leave
With our little white lies and our look away eyes
It is ourselves that we deceive
We believe that we might have done better
But we both know we could’ve done a lot worse
Were stayin’ right here
And it’s nothin’ but the truth we curse

We ain’t moving to Canada. Where it’s pretty good, in many ways better than the U.S.A., I go all the time, some of my best friends are from the Great White North.

But we were born here. Or we immigrated here. And we live here. This is our land, from California to the New York island.

That’s right, that’s a song, one both the left and the right know. From an era where our music brought us together as opposed to tearing us apart.

I love that Katy Perry stumped for Hillary, but I come up empty when I look for the message in her music, other than girl power, what is it?

And Beyonce… She’s taking a stand, but it’s so wrapped up in costumes and production, the penumbra, that the light has a hard time shining through. Once upon a time the music was enough, can it be that way again?

And as far as the great white hope Bruce Springsteen… He’s 67. He hasn’t had a hit in years. And I’m gonna go on record and say that his bio is damn near unreadable. Sure, he wrote it himself, but just because you’re a great songwriter that does not mean you’re a great book writer. But we keep hearing the same press that said Hillary couldn’t lose tell us that Springsteen’s book is a classic, even though I haven’t heard it brought up in conversation since the initial hype died down. That’s how it is today, they hype it and we forget it, it’s not important to us at all.

But Bruce Springsteen was important once.

We just need new artists to be important today.

And we need leaders, who watch the parking meters.

Artists are just signposts, vessels, they can point the way, but we need others to rise to the challenge, to do the work.

Say what you want about his policies, but one thing’s for sure, Bernie Sanders is a rock star, that’s his appeal.

And so is Donald Trump.

You might despise him, like Jim Dandy of Black Oak Arkansas, or Ted Nugent, but the point is…they appeal to somebody, that’s how they got their fame, that’s how they got their celebrity.

The biggest star in the Democratic Party is Elizabeth Warren. Did you see her on Rachel Maddow last night? She was inspiring. Because she speaks the truth and fights back.

We need people to fight back, not just tell us how much better than us they are.

But that’s the America we live in, where the winners believe they’re entitled to their success, that the little people had nothing to do with it, that they didn’t purchase their wares, and the purveyors know better.

Let me tell you, you don’t need to go to Harvard to know which way the wind blows.

But it helps.

But the goal is not to get too big for your britches, not to forget where you came from, that’s what Van Jones’s dad told him, a man who was brought up in poverty and eventually became a school principal.

Live long enough and you’ll discover we’re all equal. Just because you had rich parents and went to a good school that does not mean your kids won’t get addicted to dope, your spouse won’t leave you, you won’t get cancer and you won’t go bankrupt. Bad stuff happens. And you’ve got to have compassion for others.

True, right now the right wing has no compassion for us.

But, we dug in our heels and lost.

Now it’s time to try a different tack.

Now it’s time to touch people’s souls.

With nothin’ but the truth.

Ep. 95 – Van Jones – The Axe Files with David Axelrod

“Tavis Smiley: Donald Trump Must Be Held Accountable”

“Campuses Confront Hostile Acts Against Minorities After Donald Trump’s Election”

“Senator Warren: ‘We stand up and we fight back'”