“Black Keys: We Regret Inducting Steve Miller After Rock Hall Insults”

He didn’t remember who I was either.

That’s right, I came up to him backstage, at the Hollywood Bowl, he was opening for Journey. I’d raved about his recent performance at the Greek, we’d exchanged e-mail, which was not brief. He was standing in a circle of fans, soaking up the adulation, and I went up to say hi and got no reaction, even when I explained who I was.

Did it smart?

Of course it did, it’s not something I’ll forget.

But it drew a line in the sand, he’s Steve Miller and I’m not.

He’s Steve Miller and Dan Auerbach is not.

Been a crazy kind of week here at the old rock and roll trading post. The sound may be dead, but the purveyors are still alive, positively live wires. Bruce Springsteen refused to play North Carolina and then Steve Miller eviscerated record companies and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in one fell swoop.

Whew!

That’s what a rock star does, speak from his heart without worrying about consequences.

I love the wimps in N.C. who believe they’re entitled to see Bruce, as if by buying the “River” and overpaying for a scalped ticket it’s all about them. That’s been the change in society, the elevation of nobodies to somebodies, at least in their own mind. Why don’t you sacrifice everything and try to make it, it’s nearly impossible.

Oh, it looks easy to be a star, but the truth is when you’re starting out no one’s on your team, and back then not even your parents, isn’t that what the Boss so famously says? You’ve got to save up for your own equipment, the kids in school make fun of you, and then you survive in dumps looking for your one big break. Springsteen got a record deal and a ton of publicity but no real sales action, nothing happened until he went on the road and played hours-long sets convincing the public one by one, such that when he got it right on wax the whole thing exploded.

As for Steve Miller… He went to San Francisco before there was a sound, he’d been playing from before the Beatles broke through. When music wasn’t a road to riches, but something you did for personal satisfaction, to get your emotions out, to connect.

Imagine not doing it for the money. Everybody today thinks about the money first. And they make decisions accordingly. Hell, Auerbach is bitching in the above story that he just can’t make enough. If only he wrote a song as good as Depeche Mode’s “Just Can’t Get Enough”!

Not that I need to rag on Auerbach, but he doesn’t have the best reputation either.

That’s right, the closest people to Steve Miller have bad things to say.

But when my baby’s callin’ me home, when I feel like the space cowboy, when I get in that 707…I hear his songs in my head.

Back in ’69, when I had to see “Brave New World” live. Have you heard “Seasons”? Even Paul McCartney played with him. And speaking of pricks, have you heard any of the stories about John Lennon? The boy who rose from the streets but never really left them? You can clean a person up, but their insides remain. Lennon struggled. And he just couldn’t handle the two-faced phonies who glommed on to him once he became famous.

As for Miller deriding the record exec…

They come and go, the acts remain. You’re stuck on the label and the entire team has been replaced. All the relationships you made, PFFTT!  Meanwhile, everybody’s wining and dining on your money. Should Miller be grateful? That’s twenty first century b.s., where you keep thanking everybody fearful they’ll turn on you and ruin your career.

As for the Rock Hall itself… If you ask me, they should have shut the doors long ago. Now it’s all about personal agendas. Jann Wenner’s personal agenda, Rosemary Carroll’s personal agenda, all the horseshit those who don’t actually play employ to make themselves feel good.

You know what makes me feel good?

Listening to Steve Miller’s music. And the prog rockers and hard rockers who have not been let in, because they’re too out there and too scruffy to be involved. The whole thing is so p.c. as to be laughable.

And then you’ve got an alta kacher calling them out and everybody gets their knickers in a twist?

That’s what’s so astounding about this Steve Miller thing. The reach it’s gotten. That’s the power of truth. That’s the power of the bully pulpit. And for Dan Auerbach to go complaining to “Rolling Stone,” the engine of the atrocities, is kinda like Hillary Clinton coming out for the banks. No one wants this truth Dan. But you’re afraid to call out the iniquities behind the curtain, as Mr. Miller did. 10k for a ticket? It’s at Barclays? When is enough money enough? Hell, Jann Wenner flies private when most of the inductees do not!

I don’t even watch the show on HBO anymore. Phony speeches by people looking for their own moment of publicity, a big party when the truth is when done right music is dangerous, it challenges preconceptions, it makes you uncomfortable before you embrace it as the shit.

Why in hell were the Black Keys the inductors here anyway? Can you explain the nexus to me?

Hey Dan, why don’t you air your dirty laundry with Pat? Create some sparks? He who lives in a glass house shouldn’t throw stones.

If only Boz Scaggs inducted Miller. But maybe he’s not warm on the guy himself. Then again, Boz took a risk, went solo, and straight into the dumper before he became the biggest star in the land.

That’s rock and roll, it’s about following your muse, even if it leads you to the graveyard.

There is no guaranteed success.

And if you want people fun to hang with personally go back to your high school reunion and converse with those who never left town, who are working for the man.

Glory days indeed. The ones wherein all these faceless, nameless people drove around in their Chevys listening to the “Joker,” dreaming about running when the truth is they were born to stay in place.

If you can’t separate the music from the man, you haven’t met any famous people. It’s rough out there, hate to disillusion you.

But there once was a note, pure and easy, playing so free, like a breath rippling by. And this note kept us going. Something the money in your wallet will not. And probably none of these tracks are eternal, but for a while back there, in the sixties and seventies, they created a whole movement, they turned society upside down, they illustrated possibilities and rode shotgun as we tried to be our best selves…as well as getting high and laid.

That’s why there IS a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Because of the revolution.

And the revolutionaries don’t bitch, they just carry on. They make change. They make a difference.

Like Alexander Hamilton.

That show is the most rock and roll thing that’s happened this year. And it’s hip-hop and it’s theatre but the truth is…it gets you right in the heart, we’re stunned that Lin-Manuel Miranda came up with the concept and executed so well. Kind of like Keith with the riff from “Satisfaction” and the rest of the Stones with the lyrics and recording. Where did the inspiration come from? How did they get it so right? Do the people who did this, achieved such greatness, deserve our accolades?

ABSOLUTELY!

Don’t ever forget it. It’s about the work. If you want to be liked, if you want to get along, labor at the factory, park your ass in the cubicle farm.

But make no mistake, those people are nothing like Steve Miller or John Lennon or Don Henley, who had the audacity to reach for the stars and got there.

You don’t have the balls to reach for the brass ring. You didn’t change society. And you want to piss on those who did?

That’s bullshit.

These are usually done by remote. As in you show up at a location, put a speaker in your ear and you stare into the distance as you talk to a faceless host somewhere thousands of miles away. That’s right, I live on the edge of the country, far away from the epicenter of the news business.

And the thing about news is…

They just need SOMEONE on. They want you, but if you don’t get back to them immediately, they find someone else. They put out an APB and whoever gets back to them first gets the prize. But at this late date, how important is being on TV anyway? Used to be it was a rare achievement, now seemingly everybody’s been on, and isn’t the web king, aren’t the old outlets in trouble?

So when I landed at LAX and saw the email I figured it was already too late, it had been sent an hour and a half before. Not that I could fully comprehend it, I’d awoken at 6 AM after going to bed at 12:30 AM after a full day of skiing and I hadn’t slept a wink on the van ride from Vail or the flight from Denver, and…I cannot remember the last time I awoke that early. Want to get ahold of me? I’m free after midnight, in the morning I’m unavailable, or as I tell everybody who wants to have a hit and run meeting, that’s what breakfast is for, NO! As in I NEVER go to breakfast, it wasn’t until my nutritionist insisted that I even ATE breakfast, I don’t remember my mother ever waking up and making it for me, I believed it was superfluous, except every once in a while my dad did come home with glazed donuts.

And when I didn’t hear back right away I figured they’d gotten someone else. Which was fine by me, since it was CNN Classroom, obviously some educational closed-circuit-type thingy. I wouldn’t have to say no, I’d been preempted.

Only that wasn’t the case. When I got into the car I heard back, could I come on at 9 PM? Now that’s speaking my language, however I didn’t think I could make it if I had to drive to a studio. But if it was Skype, and since this was a b.s. show, it must be, maybe…

But it turned out to be CNN NEWSROOM, live, in Los Angeles, at 6430 Sunset, and they’d send a car, was I in?

Well I guess I am!

Which meant I had to nap, which didn’t happen, probably because I’d scarfed two Dannon Coffee yogurts and trail mix just before and the caffeine buzz got to me. But eventually I showered and peeked out the door and the car was already there. They’d said 8:30, but it was 8:25, and I was paranoid I would not arrive on time, I was scheduled to be on at 9:30.

But I shouldn’t have worried. At this time of night, driving to Hollywood is a breeze, I was there in less than thirty minutes.

And I didn’t talk to the limo driver. I feel guilty about that. I feel it’s my job, payment for giving me a ride. But maybe he didn’t want to talk. But what I hate most is when they play their music, which is never the music you want to hear, loudly. And they turn it down reluctantly. And I could see the driver was tuned into the smooth jazz station, but it was inaudible to me, I just fooled with the A/C controls and tried to read my phone, I’d downloaded this week’s “New Yorker” in anticipation, broadcast is always hurry up and wait, they make you get there early and you go on late, but I was getting carsick so I just went along for the ride. And we slid up Cahuenga and I viewed a yoga class through the plate glass and we went by the police station where I’d been booked and then voila, we were at 6430.

But I couldn’t get in. The door was locked. I started searching for the contact info before I buzzed, but someone came to open the door and I employed the proper password, which was CNN. It’s hard to get into a building today.

And there are multiple locked doors. But I was on the list so they were treating me grandly, it’s good to be the king, well, at least for a few minutes. Like that limo… There’s no limit to the budget if they want you, but if they don’t…

And you have to ask for the wifi password. Because oftentimes inside signal is weak. But the code didn’t work and LTE was good so I b.s.’ed with the makeup person as I waited for my time.

Always accept the makeup. Learn from Richard Nixon. The host is made up, you want to look good too.

And then I was in the green room waiting to go on, watching the telecast on two big screens.

WHAT EXACTLY IS CNN INTERNATIONAL? CAN I GET IT IN L.A?

Well, the producer asked me what provider I had. She rattled off a few I don’t subscribe to, but then said if I paid enough on Time Warner… So I emailed Felice and told her to search and then went back to my phone, fielding e-mail from Bryan Adams, telling him I was about to be on CNN International in mere minutes to talk about his story.

And the Boss’s.

You see it’s big news.

That’s how you know when a story has traction, when the big boys want in on the action.

And the mic man wired me up. He wanted to give me an earpiece, but I wondered why, since we were live, since this wasn’t a remote. Because there might be a package. He’d check. There wasn’t. But there was…

So I’m stretched out on the couch talking with the political expert who’d just testified as to whether the public wanted an entertainer, whether Trump had a chance. This lawyer knew his stuff, I’m always eager to speak with people who are educated on the issues and have an opinion.

And then it was my time.

John Vause was the anchor. I’d done a bit of research, learned he was an Australian, but I don’t like to gather too much information, I find it inhibiting, and the thing about news is…they’re making new stories every minute, and if you think you’re important…than you must be the anchor him or herself, everybody else is just fodder.

Did he want long or short answers? Was it okay to interrupt him? Which camera should I look into?

Look at him, there were so many cameras they’d figure it out. As for my style…whatever worked for me.

Which is how I like it.

Meanwhile, Vause is studying the script. Well, not exactly the script, he’s doing his homework, reading the prepared material, I figure he’s boning up on who I am.

But he tells me he read what I wrote.

And I told him I didn’t want to discuss the subject, to hit me cold, otherwise all the sparks would end up off screen.

And then we were back.

And that’s when it became fascinating.

You see it’s breakfast time in Europe and the U.K. And John is updating the big stories. And he’s reading from the teleprompter and…he’s changing it ever so slightly, the mark of a pro, leaving off words, adding others here and there, making it more conversational. And the thing about TV, and radio, is… You’re talking and thinking at the same time, you’re speaking but your brain is preparing for the next segment and then…

The dreaded package came on. John Kasich talking about North Carolina and Mississippi. But I didn’t have an earpiece! I figured he was taking the conservative side, but he’s the most reasonable of the Republican candidates.

Well, I’ll just have to wing it.

Which is what I did.

Was this the beginning of a trend?

YES! Other musicians are gonna start agitating, pulling out. The youngsters have to learn from the oldsters. Today’s musicians are so busy chasing the dollar that they cannot see that their power is in their voice, and that they can never be as rich as the techies or financiers. My standard rap, you know it.

But then John started talking about Nashville and the Dixie Chicks and GLAAD.

I told him the Dixie Chicks were right. I said how now even Trump said George Bush the middle was wrong to go into Iraq. Ooh, BOO-BOO! I’m talking and I realize there are only two George Bushes, and actually George is older than Jeb, should I correct myself? I do, which is kind of a faux pas, but John had caught my mistake, he acknowledged my correction. That’s always the issue on live TV, do you correct yourself or keep going? Usually, the latter, especially if there’s no time.

And I only had four minutes. And I know…once you start feeling your oats, it’s over.

As for GLAAD… I told John that was a nonstarter, and my brain is going through its mental rolodex, who was that country singer who finally came out of the closet…CHELY WRIGHT! But I couldn’t remember her name during the broadcast, which pissed me off, I like to have all this stuff at my fingertips, bring my A game. Was I just too tired or just too old? I just laughed and said GLAAD would get no traction with their boycott, because it’s hard enough to come out of the closet in Nashville! But country acts might ultimately join the boycott.

And I’m trying to maintain my momentum, it’s like taking the SATs or the bar exam, you cannot get flustered by your mistakes, you’ve got to keep going, giving it as much as you can.

But then it was over.

It always ends too soon. It’s not that you want a do-over, it’s just that you want to stretch out and give it your all.

But Vause said to come back anytime. Which I figured he said to everybody, but the mic man said that wasn’t the case, that John actually gave me extra time, if you’re not good he cuts you off after two minutes. And most people aren’t good, because they don’t realize the first rule of television is…IT MUST BE ENTERTAINING! Content is secondary to delivery. And I was warming up, but I wasn’t completely comfortable, but…

I wanted to stay, I could feel the heat, the energy. This train was running down the tracks and even if not everybody was on board, plenty were, this was serious business.

Then the producer wanted a selfie.

Sure! I always said I’d give no autographs, but by time I garnered enough fame for anyone to care everybody just wanted a picture, you’d be surprised who wants a picture.

And that’s when I fell off the stage.

Who knew?

Turns out the set is on a one foot high riser. And when I backed up to stand next to the producer and anchor…there was nothing there. And I was falling, falling, falling…and I’ve fallen enough to know this can be bad, I thought I was going down, but I wrenched myself into an upright position, I stood, but my shoulder hurt from the strain and how can it be that I can ski for a week and emerge intact but go on TV and have an accident?

And the producer held out his arm with the iPhone, but the mic man said he’d take the pic and then suddenly it was all over.

There were new people in the green room.

The makeup woman removed my greasepaint.

I took a pee and then…

Got into the wrong limo.

Mine was hidden behind a tree.

And then I got in and felt…

Well, usually I feel empty. You send this stuff out into the ether and then…nothing. Oh, every once in a while someone says they saw you. But the irony is the more you’re on, the less you hear from people.

So I’m researching John Vause on my phone. And riding down the silent streets of Hollywood and I’m thinking…

I’m never gonna be an anchor on a news network, but that carrot is enough to keep me going.

Now it cuts like a knife
But it feels so right

They call it a movement. It’s not organized at first, not focused grouped, not marketed and nothing is sold. But events transpire, outliers take a stand, people challenge their preconceptions and change is made.

That’s how we stopped the Vietnam War.

Come on, this is America! We trust the government, we win all our wars!

And then we found ourselves mired in a conflict no amount of gunpowder and manpower could bring to a close.

First there were the academics and the cranks, people easily dismissed by the mainstream. Then came the artists, then came the youth, then change happened.

As it did with civil rights.

And then gay marriage.

Not everybody is on board at the advent, but when people they respect speak out, when they investigate all sides of the issue, they change their minds and they evangelize.

It started in Ferguson. And then spread throughout the land. Turns out black people were still being kept down.

But it wasn’t only them, but the proletariat, they protested against Wall Street, saying the game was rigged, that they’d suffered but the fat cats had not.

And there were two sides. One unquestioningly backing institutions, defending the police and the status quo, and another saying THIS AIN’T RIGHT!

But life has gotten so much harder. Everyone’s afraid of losing their spot on the ladder, if there is one at all. But the youth are the most disadvantaged, their opportunity has been stolen.

And it’s the youth who are not racist, who have no problem with gay or transgendered people. Of course I’m generalizing, but if you don’t think MTV liberalized the views of the public, you never watched, and everybody else did.

As for the conservatives… They always lose in the long run, because we live in a liberal nation. Unplanned pregnancies happen to those of all faiths and political views. Everybody’s got a gay relative. Everybody knows someone who O.D.’ed. We all just want to get along, can you respect our civil rights?

That’s what’s going on in North Carolina and Mississippi, an erosion of civil rights. And if you don’t think you’re threatened, you can’t see that whites will soon be a minority in this great nation of ours, how’s that gonna feel, when the tables are turned?

And then there are those in the middle, who don’t want to piss anybody off. Like Jimmy Buffett, refusing to cancel concerts in North Carolina, even though he won’t book any in the future. It’s not about your audience and it’s not about your wallet, it’s deeper than that, it’s your right to live freely. Some things are more important than music, Springsteen had that right.

And the only reason there’s a conflagration is because Bruce spoke out. Took action. Put gasoline on the fire. Those who said he should have just played and talked don’t know that actions speak louder than words. And that may be unfortunate, but if you think words are everything you’ve spent too much time on the internet.

This is a pushback.

And now the rank and file is paying attention. Because of the Boss and Bryan Adams. Because they both know they’re misfits at heart, were never captains of the football team, never the most popular people in their high school. They found an outlet, called music, where they could be themselves and speak to the rest of the alienated, who turned out to outnumber the theoretically straight and well-adjusted.

That’s what Woodstock was about, showing the so-called “silent majority” that their kids had left home mentally if not physically, and they were drawn to the truth and honesty in the music.

I don’t expect new acts to get on the bandwagon right away. Because they’re too young to have experienced the way it was. But they’ll come, when they find out being right is more important than being rich, and oftentimes being right makes you rich!

You don’t understand, this is just the tip of the iceberg.

First they came for your abortion.

Then they came for your right to be LGBT.

Meanwhile, they infiltrated the courts as a result of the Federalist Society they created years ago.

Don’t tell the musicians to shut up.

They were just living their lives whilst the evil demons were plotting.

But now those plots are evident.

I lived through 1968. There was no doubt that Nixon would be the Republican nominee, it was only the Democrats who were in disarray. But in 2016 both parties are fighting for their souls, with no nominees yet anointed.

Because it turns out people are mad as hell and aren’t gonna take it anymore.

They don’t trust their government or the institutions.

Who else is gonna speak out but the artists?

And you’ve got to hit ’em where they live, by taking something away, you’ve got to make it hurt.

This is only the beginning. We may no longer fight about the length of one’s hair, but our country is divided and needs to be brought back together.

We’ve got to get out of each other’s lives and let people be free. All the world over that’s the way it should be, people everywhere just want to be free. And when you take away our freedoms we push back.

Ignore the naysayers, the get-alongers, those who’ve got theirs.

This is a coalition of misfits and the disadvantaged.

And there are more of us than them.

Just you wait and see.

IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM BRYAN:
STOP BILL 1523 – bryanadams.com

Art is power.

In this crazy screwed up world that we live in, where the rich get the breaks and the poor are kept at bay, money has become everything.

But when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.

That’s how it was for the acts of yore, accumulation was a byproduct, not the main goal. Therefore acts could speak their mind, could take risks.

But that no longer happens.

Musicians are court jesters. Come on, what self-respecting player would perform for the corporate pricks who hire them for privates? Once upon a time these pillagers were seen as the enemy, as they should be.  But today musicians envy CEOs. They want to fly private, they want the perks, and they will do nothing that gets in the way of that.

Furthermore, they’ll make choices that squander their credibility. Not only the aforementioned privates, which frequently are unknown to the hoi polloi, but sponsorships and endorsements. An artist is an embodiment of his identity. When done right, the artist channels his emotions and feelings and insights directly to the listener. That’s why we revere artists, because they speak to us.

But how can you respect someone who’ll do what’s expedient, who has no backbone, who is constantly in search of money?

Not that there’s anything wrong with getting rich, but if you’re not willing to leave some cash on the table…

That’s what Bruce Springsteen has done here. Not only has he canceled the gig and gotten all that publicity, ultimately it’s costing him money, not only lost revenues, but refunds and more.

That’s an artist. Someone who puts truth, justice and the American Way before cash.

Whew!

Things have gone topsy-turvy. Prior to this it was only corporate titans who balked at the North Carolina bill. Then you got PayPal saying it refuses to put its operations there. All laudable efforts, but where were the artists?

Home, afraid.

If you take a stand, some people won’t like it.

But you can change hearts and minds, you can make a difference.

Right now Bernie Sanders is the biggest rock star out there, speaking his truth. But I give Bruce credit for putting his hat in the ring. He’s still smarting from the blowback from his previous political efforts, but a true artist can withstand the social media criticism, can lose a few fans, all in an effort to stand up for what’s right.

Bruce Springsteen grew up when musicians were giants, when they were the most powerful people in the world, they owned the youth, they helped stop an unjust war.

Decades later the Dixie Chicks were excoriated for stating the truth about our President, the same truth that Donald Trump has employed to gain so much traction.

You remember truth, don’t you?

Bruce can’t deny his roots, his upbringing, where he came from.

But today’s fans have never experienced what he did. The Youngbloods implored us to get together, but Kanye West is all about himself, how he’s been wrong, stifled… He doesn’t seem to care about you.

So is it any wonder that today’s acts don’t take a stand? They’ve got no one to look up to!

“American Idol” was based on the paradigm of Mariah Carey, she was the patron saint of that show. That’s how far we’ve come, a nitwit with a good voice melismas and the proletariat falls in line.

Who’s going to be next? Who else is gonna follow Bruce? Jeopardize their career and lose money all for what’s right?

Used to happen all the time.

It has to happen again.

“A Statement From Bruce Springsteen On North Carolina”