It’s a stiff.

Ignore the sales chart. That’s where hard core fans and looky-loos go to participate, the store, the action is now in streaming, where we can see right away if anybody is listening. AND THEY’RE NOT!

It’s staggering, not one track off of Lady Gaga’s new collection is in the Spotify United States Top 50. It’d be like putting out a new “Star Wars” movie and finding no one in the theatre, ending up with a gross of les than seven figures for the weekend. How did she go so wrong?

Well, her last album, “Artpop,” was a flop.

And then she detoured into a collaboration with Tony Bennett.

And now she’s put out an album without a hit. And she lived and died on the hit.

But the same thing happened to Katy Perry. That Olympics song? Straight to the dumper.

What is happening?

The rules are changing. The audience is changing. And if you’re looking for the mainstream media to jump in and set you straight, or the major labels, you’re going to continue to be blind.

We live in an on demand culture. Data rules. And we can tell if something is successful instantly. And it’s hard to resuscitate a project, especially when it’s got the stink upon it.

Five of “Joanne”‘s fourteen tracks don’t even have a million streams.

Six break a million but don’t reach two.

“Perfect Illusion,” the advance track, is at 38 million and change. But #50 on the Spotify US Top Fifty, Lil Yachty’s “One Night,” has 38 million streams. And #1, “Starboy,” the Weeknd’s collaboration with Daft Punk, has a cume of 144 million plus, and it’s racking them up at the rate of 1,285,283 a day.

Now Gaga used collaborators too, but that’s become the story, whereas it’s only the end product that make a difference, and “Joanne”…is a curious collection of songs that lean more towards rock than EDM, and the electronic sound dominates today.

Isn’t it funny how the cognoscenti pooh-poohed EDM but despite the Sillerman shenanigans and the bad press, i.e. O.D.’s, the truth is EDM has never been more dominant in America, all those deejays became producers and the sound has triumphed.

It’d be one thing if Gaga didn’t depend upon hits, if she made it on critical acclaim alone. Adele rode that paradigm with “25,” banking on oldsters to buy CDs

“Adele’s Most Fervent Fans? Soccer Moms”

but CDs are a de minimis part of the picture now, and at least she led “25” with “Hello,” a much bigger hit than “Perfect Illusion.”

You see while the oldsters and marginal players were bitching about streaming payments and the death of albums a younger generation stole their lunch. They moved into the vacuum and triumphed. Just ask a manager, the only radio format that means anything is Top Forty. Go to number one on Active Rock and…you might be able to sell out large clubs. Have a bunch of hits on Active Rock and you still can’t fill arenas.

This is the new truth. Now it’s about pop music released on a constant basis, you don’t want to lose your stranglehold on the public. Bieber put out an album not quite a year ago that contained huge hits and he’s already got new product in the marketplace, his collaborations with DJ Snake and Major Lazer are BOTH in the Spotify Top Ten (with cumes exceeding 334 million and 435 million respectively).

If Katy Perry were smart, she’d call up Dr. Luke right now and put out a track before Christmas, to shore up her base. Instead, she’s staying at home creating a long player, a bad strategy.

If long players counted… The opening cut on “Joanne” would have huge numbers. But the truth is it’s not quite at one and a half million. People are cherry-picking what they want to hear. And the cuts at the end of the LP… Are the weakest in streaming numbers.

Albums were a good strategy when it was about ownership, not listenership, when you got paid on every track, no matter how bad it was.

Now you sink or swim on the quality of the music. A lame track on an album isn’t worth the time you put into making it.

The data doesn’t lie. Labels can influence radio, spread false stories to a somnambulant press, but now that we know what people are listening to or not…

It’s a whole new ball game.

P.S. “Joanne” is not bad, just not good enough. You listen and hear quality, but it’s not great, and today you’ve got to fire at 10 to succeed.

P.P.S. Everybody can hear your music these days. The barrier to entry is low. I never would have bought “Joanne,” but I did check it out on Spotify. That’s a good thing, that I’m interested. The bad thing is it didn’t make me want to hear it again.

P.P.P.S. My favorite cut on the album is “Sinner’s Prayer,” track 8, which barely breaks a million in cume. It’s buried in the tsunami of hype. Better to space out your releases, if this was a surprise track it would have gotten more traction.

P.P.P.P.S. Even Bruno Mars is struggling. His “24K Magic” is #14 and on the way down and it’s got a cume of 40 million. It’s a rough game these days, you can’t buy a hit, you’ve got to deliver.

P.P.P.P.P.S. Can she sell a ticket? Streams can be marginal yet you can still garner enough fans to fill buildings, this is the game for the oldsters and wannabes, because they can never rack up enough streams to make big money on Spotify.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I doubt there will be instant sellouts, but she could do good business, or fail completely. It’s a question of how many hard core fans want to pay big bucks to see her and how many looky-loos get caught up in the excitement, which is waning as the album sinks in the marketplace.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. The Super Bowl! Bad timing. The album and the on-sale should have been the same day. You want to strike when the iron is hot. Then again, she might kill it on Super Sunday and create demand. We do live in a live experience culture. But the truth is Gaga doesn’t have that many hits, she’s become a creature of media, how many hard core Gaga fans are out there? Many fewer than you think.

It’s a game of musical chairs.

AT&T is not looking to win so much as to SURVIVE!

Just think about it, Time used to be a colossus, Warner too. The latter was early into cable, its music division fed the growth and now both are indie entities today, long gone. While the CEOs were going for shareholder value, they sealed their future, one in which standalone companies cannot survive.

The last twenty years have been about disruption.

Now we’ve entered the era of consolidation.

The harbinger was Facebook’s acquisition of WhatsApp. Not only did it have the billions to pay for it, it was a flanking move, to ensure that the social network was not eclipsed in the future. The four behemoths are doing this ad infinitum now, that’s right, Google, Apple, Facebook and Amazon rule the tech sphere today. Can anybody compete, can anybody win?

Just ask Diapers.com, which was squeezed into selling to Amazon. Zappos too. And if Amazon wanted to own music streaming it could do that as well, by buying Spotify or potentially lowering prices. The power of these winners is far beyond that of their competitors. Actually, the goal of today’s startups is to sell out. Sure, Snap may be independent, but there are always outliers.

So what do we learn?

There will be less.

This is the honking headline. When even Lady Gaga can’t win you know that the middle and lower classes of art have no chance. There might be 400 scripted series today, but there will be many fewer tomorrow. We’re going to gravitate to the big winners. And someone has to fund the production, and outlets don’t want to bleed endless cash, right now they’re doing it for the market share, in a world where distribution rules.

That’s the story here. How he with the pipes is in control. We used to think distributors were dumb, an afterthought, just like concert promoters were the ass end of the business, funny how things turn around.

Concert promoters won because recordings nosedived and the live experience became everything in a cold, digital world.

Distributors are winning because they’re the ones who reach out and touch consumers. They’re the last mile. No matter how good something is, if it’s not up front and center for the consumer, if it’s not available, it will fail.

Verizon is busy building an advertising platform. Investment is low, but the play is too conservative, peopled by also-rans.

AT&T is making a big bet, paid for by debt. But AT&T wants to beat not only Verizon, but Comcast-NBC/Universal.

And T-Mobile is gaining customers via low prices, but that just makes it a target, you don’t think T-Mobile is gonna remain independent, do you?

Is this bad for consumers?

Well, let’s start with antitrust. AT&T and Time Warner did not make this deal willy-nilly, they consulted with attorneys. And the truth is…it feels anti-competitive but there’s a strong argument it is not. After all, AT&T does not dominate mobile, and the aforementioned T-Mobile is making inroads, and Time Warner does not dominate television. So, it looks like with some small divestitures and conditions this passes.

Then what?

Then you’ve got a world where there are three record labels instead of six, fewer places to sell your wares. And despite all the indie hoo-hah you need the major to promote your project, to get the word out, the major has relationships with radio and media and…

What’s next, is the “New York Times” part of a bigger operation?

The “Times” blew distribution. It owned the doorstep and is losing ground online. That’s a formula for death. And the “Times” is one of the winners. When competition ramps up you don’t cut, try to balance the budget, you invest, as AT&T is doing here.

This is what happens when you reach maturity. Not only is television mature, the internet is too. We haven’t seen any radical innovation since Uber. Now it’s all about business moves.

So, you don’t have to watch your shows on HBO. There are numerous alternatives, Showtime and Starz, also owned by bigger entities. But you do have to watch something. And chances are, despite the low barrier to entry online, you’re gonna watch the offerings of the big kahunas. You get lost by yourself online. You can’t gain traction, there’s just too much noise.

Philippe Dauman put a stake in the heart of Viacom by worrying about stock price, with worthless buybacks and an endless talent drain. In today’s world you don’t balance the books, you invest, and Wall Street will steer you wrong. How did Amazon become such a behemoth? By spending! Worrying about tomorrow!

This is not AOL/Time Warner. This is not a dream. This is not about a future we cannot understand. And it’s less about synergy than survival. He who does not grow and become the platform of choice will be eaten up tomorrow.

It’s the way of the world.

They want Bob Dylan to talk.

But he listens.

That’s what was so astounding about his 2015 MusiCares speech. He’s been listening all along. To the naysayers, the phonies, those heaping false accolades. He’s been on his own journey, beholden to no one, and that’s why he’s both pushed the envelope and become revered.

But that’s not enough, because he doesn’t talk.

Prizes are for chumps. When you’re young, you want to win, you’re envious and jealous of those in the spotlight. Age and you realize it’s all a game, winners are rarely the best. As for longevity… Try naming the Grammy Albums of the Year, good luck.

Not that there’s anything wrong with winning, but it’s about the work, it’s about your life. The triumphs are all personal. You realize this if you stay in the game long enough, you’ve got to realign yourself, otherwise you’re a slave to the audience.

Bob Dylan is not a slave to his audience.

Anybody who goes to a show knows this. He reworks the material, plays piano when you expect a guitar. He’s on his own journey and you can decide to get on the bus or to stay off.

I’m off.

But I respect what he’s doing. Trying to keep himself happy, test his own limits. He’s lucky to have an audience, but he’s not worried what it thinks.

That’s an artist. In an era where there’s far too little artistry.

An artist takes in, synthesizes, filters, then throws it back to us in a way that our own lives become illuminated. That’s what broke Bob Dylan through to begin with. A Dylan who probably wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for some simple twists of fate. Most notably, employing manager Albert Grossman, who got his songs covered by his charges Peter, Paul & Mary. Dylan wasn’t ready for prime time, with his reedy voice singing folk songs.

And then he was.

I don’t think “Like A Rolling Stone” is the best rock song ever recorded, more false accolades, but in an era of tumult it triumphed. The song wasn’t that odd on the radio in 1965. Although many believed his voice was substandard.

But that voice became iconic.

Hit singles followed, “Positively 4th Street” twisting our perceptions, weren’t you supposed to be nice in songs?

And then he disappeared and returned as a country crooner and ultimately wowed us with “Blood On The Tracks,” when we all but counted him out.

Then came Christianity and so many twists and turns… The man was living his life in public, but that wasn’t enough, it still isn’t enough, people want him to EXPLAIN IT!

But Bob never did. And famously said he did not know better. That he was no seer, that you had to look to yourself for answers. I know this now, I didn’t as a teenager. We’re all here temporarily, none of us will be remembered, if you’re living your life for show the joke is on you, and each of us has his own special gift.

That’s what Dylan sang in “Dear Landlord.”

I could curse the faux followers. The johnny-come-latelies who quote second-rate lyrics. But the best of us have followers amongst all walks of life. That’s when you know you’ve made it, when the looky-loos, the people you abhor, are on the train too.

That’s rock and roll. I was there first. Your music sucks.

But Dylan never got into the wars. Well, he castigated reporters and then receded. Why would he talk to these same nincompoops now?

And then there are the novelists pissed he got the Nobel, that they don’t get Grammys. That’s right, and you don’t get a fraction of the attention Bob Dylan does. Because you didn’t write a classic, you’re just jealous. There’s no more jealous person than a rejected artist, one whose sun has been usurped by another. It’s not a competition, be your best self, and if you’re looking for accolades…

Now we’re back at the beginning.

Nine hundred grand. A week’s touring for Dylan, he doesn’t need it for the money.

And if you can name three Nobel winners, you’re lying.

It’s just that…one of us was recognized. We had a boomer President who played saxophone on television but we still feel inadequate, we still crave plaudits, we want people to know we lived through the best era, we changed the world.

We did. Because we had artists like Bob who marched to the beat of their own drummer. He was hungry, you can’t make it without desire, but your goal is to keep the public at bay, while entrancing it.

The rabble-rousers want him to be appreciative. Want him to drop words of wisdom. They want him to be just like them.

But he’s not. He’s Bob Dylan. He’ll probably fly to Sweden to accept the award, he’ll say one word or a plethora of them. Because he also understands it’s show business, you make the most of your moment, and you do this by not giving what people want.

They want him to talk.

Which is exactly why he’s staying silent. The absence of words is deafening. It’s a bigger statement than any sentence.

As Bob put it so eloquently in “I And I”…

I got nothin’ to say, ‘specially about whatever was

You see he made shoes for everyone, even you, and you’re angry he’s still going barefoot.

Then again, no man sees his face and lives.

When did concerts become tribal rites?

It was not like this back in the sixties and seventies, when classic rock ruled. There was a gulf between performer and audience, it was a show, now it’s an EXPERIENCE!

Ignore the virtual reality hype, there’s nothing like being there, observing the assembled multitude, watching the women sway and sing at the top of their lungs, mesmerized by the act giving all it’s got.

I was with Larry in the Chairman’s Room, he was waiting for earplugs, I was getting antsy, I was afraid of missing something, the set list said he was going on at 9:10, I checked my phone and bolted, told Larry to meet me at the back of the hall and…

The lights were flashing, Keith was coming down the riser picking a banjo, the bass was thumping, the synthesizer was oozing all over the bottom and the building began to levitate. The cries were loud for Brett Eldredge but this was a frenzied peak, this was what they’d been waiting for, and Keith Urban was delivering.

This was not a nitwit television contestant. It became rapidly evident that this dude could PLAY! Just like we watched “Ed Sullivan” and picked up axes a younger generation is being infected by the show and doing the same thing, Nashville’s ridden with structural problems but the ability to play is not one of them, NashVegas is a hotbed of musicianship, and to be in the presence of this man-made sound is elating!

Larry arrived and we walked up to our assigned seats, on the side of the stage, the lower loge, where we felt like we could reach out and touch Keith. It was the same show, but the experience was now tactile, my insides started to buzz, this is the feeling I live for, this is what is selling all those tickets, people are overpaying on StubHub because they want access, they want to be CLOSE!

The roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd. In a world where we’re beholden to our machines, where our best friends are rarely seen in person, to be inside the venue for a live music show is positively thrilling, more human than human.

And over the years Keith has gotten deeper into tattoos. They now creep up his neck. You can’t work in the boardroom with these. But that was never Keith Urban’s path, he dropped out of high school, he was going to do it his way, and he endured umpteen frustrations, he got a deal with his band the Ranch but it failed, and then he succeeded.

I know, I know, there are tons of faded rockers covered in ink working in the shipping department, but those who make it are still an inspiration. They’re confounding convention, ignoring boundaries, doing it their way in a world where we all feel like automatons.

And then he extracted a woman from the audience. Her sign said she’d get an A if she sang with him. She did. On “Gimmie Shelter,” a song the band hadn’t played in years. But they decided to wing it. And it was rough and the mix was off and that’s when I realized this was not a lie, it was like being in the basement for a rehearsal, and we all want to glimpse behind the scenes. The pre-programmed dancing show is a relic of the MTV nineties, now you want your gig to live and breathe, be imperfect, accessible.

And it was surprises like this that kept the audience on its toes. The audience participation on “Jack & Diane,” the segue into the Bob Marley classic “No Woman, No Cry.”

That’s the difference. We didn’t use to sing, not in unison, but it’s a staple of the modern show. We don’t pay fealty to the act, we’re in it together, it’s a religious revival, all of us praying to the SOUND!

And there were further surprises, the emergence of Nile Rodgers to play “Sun Don’t Let Me Down.” Funny how we’ve got a Presidential candidate trying to win on divisiveness, denigrating immigrants, demonizing people of color, but he missed the MTV revolution. Blacks and gays, they’re included now. When you see Nile on stage you don’t see an African-American, just a really talented icon, who’s jumping around on stage picking the strings of his Stratocaster one step removed from Chic. All the sounds have melded together.

And the one thing missing was danger. There was an absence of meaning. When Merry Clayton sang “Rape! Murder!” it was scary, mommy and daddy were nowhere in sight, we were on our own, it not only could get weird, it did. Whereas last night’s show was completely safe. And there was no standing up to the man, no explication of the human condition in today’s topsy-turvy, income inequality world.

Then again, there are no leaders. The TV contestants pay fealty to Mariah Carey and the classics who are still alive play the old songs to old farts overpaying in the desert. Used to be music pushed the envelope, but not right now.

But where we’re at is not completely nowhere. The show is where people want to be. There’s an energy, a communication you cannot get anywhere else. We’re primed and ready for someone to break it wide open.

Then again, records are secondary to shows. The gigs are less about the songs than the experience of being there, with like-minded people, exulting at the top of your lungs as the ringleader eggs you on.

Not that there were not musical peaks. The number one being the acoustic encore of “Stupid Boy.” Wait long enough and they play the songs you want to hear. This was special. Different from the recording. It’s what we’re looking for, moments.

And the confetti cannons shot their load and the lights came up and people started to leave but Keith could not. He stayed on stage, continuing to wave and shake hands, it had been five years since he’d been in the building, he was so grateful.

This too is a difference. Back then it was take it or leave it. Legends could play shows with their backs to the audience. They might feed off the energy but usually they evidenced no need for those in attendance. They were gods descending to blow our minds, but now we too are on the pulpit, we too are testifying, and it feels so GOOD!

We’re on our feet. He’s playing the hits. We’re thrusting our arms in the air, our eyes closed as we go into a trance, thinking about all the times we played these songs at home, how they got us through, and now the guy who made ’em, he’s right there on stage, and he cares that we care, he’s giving it his all, it’s anything but wasted time.