If tech is the new music, David Gilboa and Neil Blumenthal are rock stars. They’re founders of Warby Parker.

You know Warby Parker, the eyeglass company that undercuts Luxottica and sold their frames through a bus and is now opening shops across America. A ragtag band with an idea that they brought to fruition.

Only David and Neil are not ragtag, they’re graduates of Wharton.

They had the idea but they were insecure as to its success. They didn’t drop out of school, they did a ton of research, and the results exceeded their expectations.

A far cry from the braggadocio of music, wherein everybody’s a star with no experience.

Neil worked at a nonprofit. Warby Parker gives away a ton of frames. But unlike musicians who asked to be looked at, they’re not leading with that message.

It’s all about the idea. Just like it’s all about the song. Great execution is irrelevant if it’s a lousy concept. And once you go down the path you’ve got no idea where you’ll end up. Does Warby Parker need a retail store in every metropolis? Should it raise the prices of its glasses? THEY DON’T KNOW! You put one foot in front of the other and when you enter the maelstrom you adjust.

Like Troy Carter.

It’s his company, the Atom Factory. And if you enter the premises on Washington Boulevard you’ll think the music business recession never happened. It’s not down and dirty, not even funky, it’s modern and designed and it’s the best office I’ve ever been to.

Troy was the manager of Lady Gaga.

That ended.

He’s got new music clients, like Meghan Trainor, he even took his family on the bus with her last summer, but Troy is also one of music’s leading tech investors, he got in early, before the mania, before record labels had incubators and talent agencies had funds. He knows the players.

And he’s fascinating to talk to.

We started off discussing the Oscars. Should Chris Rock punt?

Troy said no. He has a job to do. Whatever he decides is cool with Carter, but Troy referenced Doc Rivers during the Sterling saga. You play the game.

And then we shifted to politics and the chances of Bernie Sanders, Troy told me he went to a Clinton fundraiser just after Ferguson and Hillary didn’t mention it. Troy hasn’t decided who he’s backing, but the younger generation, whose future has been stolen, aligns with Bernie.

And the younger generation was in attendance.

The Academy may be male and white, but not the people at this dinner. Not only were women well-represented, but there was more than a smattering of color. It was so different from the dinners the fat cats in the music business attend. When you speak with the same people you get the same message. Whereas these other voices edified me, opened my eyes, and that’s incredibly stimulating. Like Moj Mahdara of Beautycon, there are a ton of women in the world, you’d do best to understand their wants and desires, especially if you want to make money.

And everybody at the table wanted to make money.

But not at the expense of social good.

Troy called Michelle Papillion his pusher. She’s a gallery owner/art dealer, and she specializes in emerging artists and she keeps her business in Leimert Park and is as networked as they come. She wants art to change culture. Strange when everybody just wants art to make them rich.

Bobby Kim is more focused on personal satisfaction and consumer connection at his clothing company the Hundreds.

Not that there weren’t music people there, and we got into a deep discussion as to where it was all going, which made me anxious, since Apple Music people were there and I was asked my opinion…

But the reason for the get-together was that the Warby Parker people were in L.A.

They never wanted to be the cheapest company. Style is key. You establish a relationship with the customer and nurture it, which is the opposite of the old school I’ve got your money and now I’m gone paradigm.

And they learned a lot at business school. And I knew not of what they spoke. Art is different, it’s edgier, based more on instinct. It’s just that…

Warby Parker is cooler than the acts that are associated with it.

They did a deal with Beck. I never heard about it. That’s right, America’s most credible glasses company has greater mindshare than this Grammy-winning act. Because today we believe in corporations as opposed to bands, and that’s sad.

The musicians could change this. By following their muse and standing up for what’s right, not paying fealty to the man. But, unfortunately, the man is much more educated and aware of what’s going on, it’s like our whole world has gone topsy-turvy. I didn’t think I cared about eyeglasses, but when you stick it to the man, in this case Luxottica, you’ve got my attention.

Did you see that “60 Minutes” piece? The Italian eyeglass company bought every brand and then jacked up the price, you’re paying, whether you’re nearsighted, farsighted or just like sunglasses. They own everything from Lenscrafters to Sunglass Hut, from Armani to Oakley.

So I’m on Warby Parker’s side.

I used to be on the musicians’ side.

I’ll come back. When they’ve got my values, when they build upon experience, when they create something so new and good that I find it without advertising.

So most of what happens in L.A. never makes the news. The Kardashians may own the tabloids, but don’t think there aren’t young thinkers out there, changing things up.

I felt privileged to attend.

I was the oldest guy there.

There’s so much to learn.

We live in exciting times.

“60 Minutes” – “Do you know who makes your glasses?”

He lived the American Dream.

You know, wherein your wits, smarts and pluck, never mind the gleam in your eye, take you from nothing to everything, in this case not only accumulating riches, but influencing the culture.

And there were those who hated him for it.

They lionize Steve Jobs. And Mark Zuckerberg. The techies that changed the world.

But they hate Glenn Frey and his flock of Eagles for being so damn successful, for worming their way into women’s hearts. And let me be clear, it’s always guys complaining about the Eagles, girls loved them. Because females are not into pecking order, not married to the past, they can embrace that which truly satisfies, casting preconceptions aside.

And the preconception was that you had to be English, with bad teeth and little education, or American and challenging cultural commandments, or else you didn’t matter. Gram Parsons might be the father of country rock, but he could never compose a song that penetrated the public consciousness to the point that radio stations could not stop playing it and none of us could ever forget it.

Like “Take It Easy.”

That acoustic guitar came out of the speaker in the dashboard and in the summer of ’72 all of America felt good. It was a different country back then, divided for sure, but we still believed we were winners, that if we put our minds to it we would come out on top. We were never gonna be here again, so we opened up and took across this great country of ours, lived life to the fullest, with the radio blasting all the while.

And despite the hit single, it was the era of album rock. So upon hearing the mellifluous tune you went out and purchased the Asylum LP and…you played it over and over again. Thirty seven minutes long, the debut had no clunkers, it begged to be heard. Take that modern music.

But the follow-up was a commercial dud. “Desperado” got no traction, not the LP nor the title track. The press had primed us for it, back when “Rolling Stone” was the bible of a generation, but without a hit single “Desperado” faded in an era where music dominated and we couldn’t afford to buy all we wanted.

And then “Best Of My Love” went to number one. Credit a deejay, who rejected the two authorized singles in favor of it. Suddenly, the Eagles owned the airwaves.

Of course Glenn would tell us they were called “Eagles,” and was unhappy that everyone appended the “the,” but he and the rest of the band were thrilled with the attention and the dough. They were rock stars. Raising funds for political candidates and partaking of the goodies that accompany the success. It’s one thing to be rich and famous, it’s another thing for it to be based on your creativity, your art. These are the people we exalt. The Eagles were at the pinnacle, especially with the following year’s “One Of These Nights,” they were a stadium act, the biggest band in the land.

And the hatred ensued.

But unlike today’s wimpy musicians, the Eagles barked back, owned their talent and success. Funny how we give Kanye a pass, despite not having made memorable music for years, but we excoriate the SoCal band that was bigger than the rest.

But no one was prepared for “Hotel California.” When you dropped the needle on the record you heard a sound foreign to the catalog. The guitars screamed and if they were big before, the Eagles were now America’s band.

It was “Life In The Fast Lane.” A term every baby boomer knows and said for decades, when they snorted coke, when they did what they should not do. The Eagles blasted open the highway and then we drove right down it.

And now Glenn Frey is gone.

I felt he would make it. It had been weeks, he’d made it through the dreaded holiday period, but then he passed.

And America was shocked.

The press didn’t know how to react. Because they had to be cool, they couldn’t attest to what data tells us, that the Eagles are the biggest American band in history.

Their “Greatest Hits” jockeys with “Thriller” for number one. And unlike so many albums of the past, it still sells. It’s not in the rearview mirror. The strange thing about the Eagles is they never went away. They inspired the country pickers and they still own the bars and the radio. That’s what you get what you’re that damn good.

And there’s no one better.

I know, I know, you’ll cite artists breaking convention, your favorite player, but the truth is writing catchy songs with meaning and singing them with exquisite harmonies is damn hard to do, it’s just that the Eagles made it look easy. Hell, half of Nashville walks in their footsteps, but no one’s done it nearly as well, and so many of those stars don’t even write their own material.

But the Eagles did. With help from J.D., Jackson and Jack Tempchin. But they weren’t guns for hire, but members of the club, a roaming group of musicians who owned the hearts and minds of America throughout the seventies, and didn’t let go thereafter.

So you’re either sad or you’re not.

But if you are…

67 is way too young. And although Don Henley had more solo success, it was Glenn’s band. He started it, he guided it. And every group needs a driving force.

So it’s the end of an era. And it’s a great loss. You’ll never be able to see the Eagles again. But if you did…

The sun would be setting behind the stage.

And at the appointed time, with no wait, they would take the stage and Glenn would say…

They were the Eagles from Southern California.

And the guitars would strum, the bass would pluck, the drums would pound and as the sound washed over you you’d become your best self.

America runs on California. That’s where the innovation begins, where you go to test limits, where there’s no ceiling on either creativity or success.

And people hate California the same way they hate the Eagles.

But what they really want to do is get on board.

And we all got on board with the Eagles. Even those who say they do not care. They only wish they were standing on that corner in Winslow, Arizona, with a girl checking them out.

In a flatbed Ford, made in Detroit. Where Glenn Frey emanated from.

But he remembered his roots.

And built upon them.

Want to be successful?

Need it. Study. Make friends. Seize opportunities.

And take no shit as you ascend into the stratosphere.

That’s what Glenn Frey did.

You cannot make a big enough deal about his death. Because what once was is now gone. Doesn’t mean we can’t create something new, but so far we haven’t  minted stars as big as those from the seventies, never mind create music as memorable.

Glenn Frey was here for the long run. He got stuck in the Hotel California and he wasn’t eager to get out. But we all meet our demise, his as a result of side effects from arthritis drugs, he just didn’t want the pain.

None of us want the pain. We’re self-medicating every day.

But years ago the music was enough. We just turned on the stereo and a smile crossed our face.

Glenn Frey took us there.

Now we don’t know where to go.

Chris Stapleton – “Nobody to Blame”

He doesn’t look into the camera. It’s like he’s in a honky tonk, another night on the endless road wherein he’s downed a bunch of beers and is entertaining the assembled multitude, who are there to imbibe and check out the opposite sex (and the same one too!) This is not SNL, but something blasted in from a prior generation, when the music was paramount and image was secondary, when carrying a few extra pounds was not anathema, when how you played was a demonstration of your expertise and value, not how many likes and views you’d accumulated. This hearkens back to an era so long gone that I don’t think anybody watching the show understood what they were seeing, but they GOT IT!

Welcome to the Chris Stapleton hype, wherein credibility’s been pushed out front to the point where a few have checked him out. It’s not a viral enterprise, certainly not outside Tennessee, he’s been gently pushed down the throat of those who might care, but when you check out his album “Traveller” you’re flummoxed, this is not Bonnie Raitt’s “Nick Of Time,” not a nineties Grammy winner that you put on the turntable and immediately get. “Traveller” is subtle and dare I say it…at first not great. It’s good. But today that’s not good enough, when we’re surrounded by the history of recorded music. And then you let it play and the album takes a left turn, just when you feel superior to the critics you become riveted, the deeper you go the more passion and desperation that is evidenced, and you’re closed.

The tour-de-force is the last track, “Sometimes I Cry,” which is closer to the blues breakers of the U.K. sixties than anything coming out of Nashville today. It’s slow and meaningful and when Stapleton exclaims that sometimes he cries, you’re stopped in your tracks, not by some nitwit melismaing, but a guy with talent and experience who’s expressing true emotion, true pain. It’s a slow and dreary number, like one a.m. after too much Jack Daniel’s, when you believe your world will never work out, and rather than get up your gumption to go on, you wallow in the mess you’ve made of your life, believing there’s no way out.

But the best track on the LP is number 11, “Was It 26,” which is as dark as Alice In Chains’ “Rooster,” but wiggles through the swamp like a bayou snake. There are changes and a sound that immediately enraptures you.

Livin’ hard was easy when I was young and bulletproof
I had no chains to bind me, just a guitar and a roof
Emptied every bottle, when I poured I never missed
I had bloodshot eyes at twenty five, or was it twenty six

It was twenty eight for me. Too much alcohol and too many dead ends, I’d stopped living with my girlfriend and was still searching for the best night of my life. And in case you’ve never tried this, you don’t. Ever. But bad turns and dead ends, I’ve seen them. And to know someone else has too…

Actually, “Was It 26” is one of the two songs on “Traveller” that Stapleton didn’t write, but he makes it his own.

More accessible is the coming to L.A. story “When The Stars Come Out.” Can you get up off the couch and make a change, set yourself up for new opportunities, for happiness? Most people can’t.

After “When The Stars Come Out” comes the dirge “Daddy Doesn’t Pray Anymore,” a quiet number that sounds just like its title. All this darkness, all this truth, is in the second half of this fourteen cut LP. It’s like some exec said we can’t scare ’em away, we’ve got to load ’em up with the easy stuff.

The album opens with the breezy “Traveller,” which lightens your mood but does not stick to your bones. There’s a cover of the classic “Tennessee Whiskey,” which Chris did to such acclaim with Justin Timberlake on the CMAs. The jaunty “Parachute.” And none of this stuff evidences the pain, never mind the quality, of what comes after. Like “The Devil Named Music.” Which is too slow to lead with, but opens your heart and brain, takes you away from this complicated game we call life, the one with iPhones and constant communication, and puts you in the driver’s seat with your personality intact, not the one you polish up for social media, where it’s all nice all the time, assuming you want to get ahead. And after “The Devil Named Music” comes “Outlaw State Of Mind,” another one of those English-styled blues numbers filtered through a modern mentality. It’s so dark the label must have been afraid to feature it. This is Skynyrd country, heavy and edgy, from guys you want to listen to but you’re not sure you want to hang with.

And that brings us back to “Nobody To Blame.”

On wax, it’s a cross between Merle Haggard and the Dead. A bouncy tale featuring some fine picking.

But then you see the iteration on SNL. It loses its popiness, it settles down into the groove, it waltzes as opposed to foxtrots, it’s a hair slower and more meaningful.

Credit Stapleton’s vocal… He starts off weak, for an instant you think he ain’t got the pipes, but that’s just a line, he’s away from the mic, making sure he’s picking the notes on his Jazzmaster correctly, but then you hear him exclaim that he’s got nobody to blame and you can’t believe this mellifluous vocal is emanating from this burly dude. People aren’t supposed to sing this good, everybody’s a fake, talent is something we used to experience before tech allowed average people to employ seamless recordings to get corporate endorsements.

And really, it’s all about the picking on that Jazzmaster, I won’t say it’ll launch a zillion players, but it’s truly inspirational, and it sounds so GOOD!

Kinda like the harmonica and the steel guitar. Is this truly live? You sure it’s not on tape, like the usual SNL fare, like Ashlee Simpson?

But unlike the skits on the show, this performance is not now, tickling this week’s memory banks, but is positively retro, positively what music once was, when it existed outside the mainstream, was the stuff that set our minds free that we couldn’t get enough of. This is why we went to the show, to bask in the sound of people who were all about the playing as opposed to the mugging.

There’s no buzz. Because the people who saw this show are not the target audience, they’re the fly-by-night kids who believe it’s all about documenting their present so they can become stars.

And Chris Stapleton is not demonstrating any starpower, not by the usual standards, his antics don’t fill up TMZ and he’s not demanding our love as he tells us how much better he is than us.

As a matter of fact, he’s taking responsibility, he’s telling us it’s his fault.

And it is. Nobody’s perfect, even Donald Trump, all the rich people who look down upon us, they put their pants on the same way, they just think if they evidence weakness they’ll fold. But those who can reveal their warts, those are the ones we want to get close to, because they’re human, just like us.

Nashville embraced this guy, because he played their game, wrote hits, and then veered from it, refused to be defined by what was but went in search of what felt right. And in a corporatized world where everybody’s playing it safe that’s a revelation.

And if you were bitten by the music bug of yore, you’ll find this video a revelation.

And if you listen to the second half of “Traveller” you won’t be able to stop.

And if you allow yourself to extricate yourself from the rat race and let it all wash over you…

You’ll have hope.

EMOTION

We want to know you’re alive, that you’ve got feelings, that you believe in your message. Rational is passe. Jeb is rational, Trump is emotional. Who’s got a grip on the public consciousness? Who is mired in the morass? In an internet world where words inflame and everybody is pissed off to put on a smile and act like everything’s copacetic and if we all just got calm things would work out is to be marginalized. The internet has allowed the feelings of the public to enter the public eye. One does not want to be “other.” One wants to be just like the people playing the home game, which they’re doing, on their devices, constantly. To ignore this change is to be left behind.

PASSION

An analogue of emotion. If you don’t believe it, we won’t either. Raise your voice, even yell and scream. Not so loudly you drown everybody else out, but to the point where we know you’re feeling something.

TRUTH

Something the Republican candidates cannot get a grip on. Yes, there are all kinds of internet rumors, but in the new world truth always outs, a visit to Snopes will deliver this. You don’t want to lie. This is the conundrum of Trump, he delivers his message passionately, but then he makes up whoppers that the rest of the Republicans don’t attack because they’re lying too. But when it gets to a general election, your past comes back to haunt you. Everybody’s hungry for straight talk. They’re sick of duplicity. It’s why TV is burgeoning and music is faltering. Come on, can you believe in some nitwit performer who’s taking money from a corporation that few believe in? Used to be life was an inside game, who you knew was most important. Now there’s a giant window instead of a steel curtain and everyone can see your behavior so unless you specialize in being dishonest, or are completely off the radar screen, you’d better hew to the truth.

DON’T PLAY IT SAFE

Legacy is for the antiquated, left behind in the rearview mirror. Apple abandons ports seemingly willy-nilly, imploring its customers to either get on the bus or be left behind. Microsoft was so busy making their software backwards compatible that they got lost in the dust. Not only must you innovate, you must shed old paradigms that no longer apply in the new world. It is no longer business as usual. We are not only going to self-driving cars, but a near lack of car ownership completely. Adele selling tracks and CDs is akin to selling flip-phones to the aged. That’s right, adult women are the drivers of the Adele phenomenon, and this strategy has hurt the performer, because she’s absent from the playing field, the one where everybody else is, streaming. You never want to take yourself out of the game, you never want to reduce eyeballs. Putting money first is a shortsighted strategy that will come back to haunt you.

TAKE THE GLOVES OFF EARLY

Hillary refused to attack Bernie and now it may be too late. Say what you’ve got to say. If you’re honest, truthful, display emotion and demonstrate passion people will be with you. In tech there’s a first-mover advantage. It applies in all walks of life today, where it’s so hard to get your message heard at all and you’re defined by your opening remarks.

RISK

It’s everything today. If you’re not willing to go into uncharted territory, you’re moribund, kind of like the music business. Top Forty is endless repetition of safe work to the point where most people have tuned out. Music will not be healthy again until those with the purse strings enable those with vision and convince gatekeepers that doing it the old way is death. Record stores were killed by iTunes and iTunes was killed by YouTube and Spotify. The bleeding edge is everything. And once you gain adherents you must constantly change and continue to explore and adjust. Uber just lowered rates in L.A. As if UberX wasn’t cheap enough, they now have a carpooling option. And what broke Uber was word of mouth. You build it and then they decide to come. If you think publicity is the way to break a new product, you believe early adopters pay attention to hype, but they don’t.

DON’T PLAY IT SAFE

The Democrats scheduled debates on the weekend so few would view and they would be out of the public eye and Hillary could sustain her front runner status. Now that Bernie is neck and neck Hillary can’t get her message out, because no one is watching!

PLAY FOR TOMORROW, NOT TODAY

Life is long, the road goes on forever, and if you’re looking to win instantly I hope you’re also planning to get out of the game just as fast.

TRACTION

If you’ve got none, abandon. Marginal Republican candidates didn’t go up in the polls, they stayed low and then their money ran out and they gave up. Imagine you have a limited amount of money to fund your enterprise. Would you give up with the little headway you’ve made? Would you beg, borrow and steal for more with the little success you’ve had? Professionals cut their losses, amateurs keep persisting, believing their passion and personal stamina will make a difference. No. Not everything is a good idea, not everything generates cash. Techies are famous for the pivot. Take what’s good about what you’re doing and turn it into something else. Or take what’s good about your personality and pour it into a new endeavor.

DON’T IGNORE TRENDS

The NFL keeps fighting the concussion backlash. If you don’t own your flaws, they will come back to haunt you. Society is riddled with that which is huge today and over tomorrow. The truth is a growing number of citizens are disillusioned with football because of the injury rate. If owners were smart, they’d diversify. Kroenke would buy a soccer team and install it in Inglewood. But too often the rich and famous believe their own hype, that they’re better than others and smarter than the marketplace, which then craters, making the way for new players. The Silicon Valley ethos is that change happens. You’d better believe it.

CHANGE DOES HAPPEN

Oil prices crash, real estate goes up and down, if you’re an investor you diversify, if you’re a creator you know that your time may come, or it may not. This is what keeps the game interesting. We’re moving towards a great consolidation, life is too overwhelming, there’s a cacophony of messages. Only a few tech companies triumph and only a few artists/artistic enterprises will gain all of the mindshare. Everybody can play, but few can win, because people are overwhelmed with choice. The future is about a great unification of our country. With fewer outlets and fewer winners. Everybody can’t have a podcast, every streaming music service can’t survive… We want to be where our friends are, having a conversation about what we all know about. And we want our leaders to play to us, with truth, passion and honesty, that is the American Way. Risk-takers in touch with their audience leading us to the promised land. Either adopt the new plays or get out of the way, for the times they are a-changin’.