I know you’ll miss me
I know you’ll miss me
I know you’ll miss me blind

Actually, no. We wouldn’t have even gone to the Greek if it hadn’t been Rena’s birthday. And when the band appeared on the big screen in her office I thought it was a commercial, because who goes on tour with FOURTEEN PEOPLE?

Culture Club. Two great albums, a flurry of hits, and then nothing. We thought Boy George would go on to further success, but he flamed out and the band are now has-beens, out for a money grab.

And the way you do this is by having a lot of the show on hard drive. But Culture Club was LIVE!

I’m trying to figure out the modern paradigm. Everyone believes it’s gonna look just like the past, with recordings being the driver. But I’m not sure. Maybe it’s all about experiences, maybe it’s all about the show. And Culture Club’s was so good, so entertaining, made me smile so much that I told myself…I WANT TO SEE THIS AGAIN!

And I never feel that way. That’s why I stay home. I’ve seen everybody I want to see too many times, in their heyday and now on the rerun. It’s creepy to go again, I don’t get it. As for the young ‘uns…they tend to be gone before they get traction, or they never get traction, or it’s about hearing a couple of hits and then…

And I’m not telling you I have an aversion to hits, but the highlight of Thursday night’s show was a reggaefied version of Bread’s “Everything I Own.”

Huh?

That’s what you can do when you have a well-rehearsed band, surprise us.

And I was surprised that they were doing my favorite song first, “Church Of The Poison Mind.” I heard it coming up the steps. And it wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t expect it to be.

But Boy George… He was wearing this concoction on his head I just could not stop staring at. As if someone at the Scotch Tape store took black ribbon and twirled it up into a double crown. Who would wear such a thing, WHO COULD COME UP WITH SUCH A THING!

And when the initial number was done and we were in our seats, Mr. O’Dowd started to talk to the audience. I haven’t seen this kind of banter since Adele played the venue, the best show of the twenty first century. She was so relaxed, at ease with herself, with nothing to prove. She talked about the audience’s outfits, engaged in conversation as opposed to ignoring the hecklers. And Boy George did this too. Maybe it’s an English thing.

And the truth is Boy George has done so many shows that he’s relaxed and skillful, it’s Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours in action. Never forget that Gladwell uses the Beatles as an example in his book, how they played more gigs in Hamburg than most bands now play in a lifetime.

First and foremost it was the original band. That never happens. Someone’s dead or there’s too much infighting, usually about money, and someone is squeezed out or refuses to participate.

And I would be lying if I said they all didn’t show the years. But they were game, and so were we.

But it was a show band, with a master at its center. They could play anything and you’d enjoy it. Because that’s the power of music, what it is first and foremost, a sound, that envelops you and carries you away, makes you feel good. Music is just not a vehicle to become rich and famous. But today that’s what it is. It’s all about the money. Whereas the English were doing it on a lark. The British Invasion guys were just trying to avoid a life of drudgery in the factory. Boy George was a gay guy who didn’t fit in, so he created his own fabulous life, and we could just peak in.

But times were different. Never underestimate the power of MTV. Freddy and Demi couldn’t stop talking about Culture Club. They had MTV when it wasn’t in every neighborhood, and if you had it you were addicted and when your friends came over they couldn’t stop watching it. And sure, Duran Duran created the paradigm of throwing a ton of money at the screen in order to become successful, but Culture Club was one of the initial breakthroughs also. Although their videos were done on a lark and were often nonsensical, I know, because they showed them all on the backdrop Thursday night. But, Boy George evidenced charisma, which he still possesses, and they were all having so much FUN! You remember fun! Instead of dancing choreographed steps to perfection, you just go with the feeling.

So, you’ve got a horn section, a trio of players who don’t sound like Chicago, but something closer to what came before, the big band era, when you needed a full complement of players to get the sound across.

And a trio of backup singers… One was not enough? Two? You’ve got to pay these people. And they didn’t have perfect bodies and didn’t look like they belonged in the centerfold but when you heard them sing, you were bonded closer than you ever were to Bo Derek and the rest of the “Sharknado” has-beens. Because physical beauty is two-dimensional, whereas soul comes straight from the heart.

And two percussionists. Unnecessary, but adding flavor.

And there was one more guitarist, he looked like the band leader, but the original player, Roy Hay, did the solos.

And Jack Black came out at the end to duet on David Bowie’s “Starman” and if you grew up with “Ziggy Stardust” it was transcendent but the truth is Boy George knows his place in time. He can pay fealty to what came before, his influences, because he knows something else is coming after.

So I’m not telling you to go to this show for nostalgia, to put a notch in your belt.

And I’m not telling you to go to this show if you don’t care, after all, the band is what it is.

But if you like to go out, if you like to feel good, if you like to be transported by music, if you’re in search of authenticity in a land inundated by fake.

This is your gig.

The first album, not their whole oeuvre, because nothing thereafter was quite as good, and every Deadhead owned the initial LP. Jerry Garcia played with them, live and on record. He was into pedal steel. But the truth is the John “Marmaduke” Dawson-led New Riders opened the Dead gigs forty five years ago and it was like they were part of the same group, you expected to see them, and when they put out their first album you bought it. And it wasn’t as good as “Workingman’s Dead” and “American Beauty,” but it was accessible and the more you played it the more you came to like it.

That’s right, we paid for ’em and we played ’em. Everybody had a limited amount of music. And if an LP disappointed you and you stopped playing it, it was truly bad. I can only think of a couple in my collection. The second Vanilla Fudge LP, “The Beat Goes On,” and the second New Riders album, “Powerglide” come to mind. Oh, “Powerglide” was much better than “The Beat Goes On,” but it was such a come-down from the debut that I winced when I played it, and stopped buying New Riders albums thereafter. However, the fourth record, “The Adventures Of Panama Red,” was a return to form. But at that point I was off them, I had limited cash, and I was limited to hearing it on the radio and at other people’s houses.

PORTLAND WOMAN

My favorite track on the LP.

It’s always the slow stuff that grabs you after a few listens, that warms your heart, that you sing in your head.

When you drove south from Middlebury College, on Route 7, you go through Pittsford. I remember singing “I want to get me a Pittsford woman” over and over again, as a joke as we journeyed in search of the action.

That’s what you did back then.

No one was getting laid at Middlebury. There were only 1600 students and the girls were like your sisters, and everybody was so wrapped up in their studies they didn’t have time to party, nor did they have the inclination. So, we’d pile into Hughes’s ’66 Catalina and drive to all girl Green Mountain College and other locales. And we got high and we had some funny conversations, but that was about it. Wanna have a significant other? Move to the city, the odds are better, and no one knows who you are, and this is a relief after living in a small town.

I DON’T KNOW YOU

The opening cut, which everybody knew, you heard it pouring out of dorm rooms, it’s upbeat and catchy and was the most famous song on the debut.

HENRY

Dope-running. Back when that was still adventurous, back before it was dominated by the criminal element, at least north of the border.

Marijuana was still cool. Before everybody turned to ‘ludes and then cocaine and found out you could mess up your life real bad.

Also, it wasn’t until the middle of the seventies that sensimilla came on the scene. You could smoke a whole lid of dope with your friends and just get mildly high. Today a couple of hits will floor you.

So, so much of music was caught up in the dope culture, because the establishment pooh-poohed it. Actually, more than that, the establishment CRACKED DOWN ON IT!

The draft and dope. You had to worry about both. Getting your ass shot off in Vietnam and getting busted for a tiny amount of weed and going behind bars.

So, when the New Riders played this in concert…, when you were high in your dorm room and it came on…you smiled.

GLENDALE TRAIN

A story song that was much closer to country than rock and roll. But at this point our minds were open, between the Byrds, CSN and the Dead themselves, we were becoming inured to the sound.

“Glendale Train” is a classic that fits perfectly on Sirius XM’s bluegrass channel today. Used to be this music was more than niche, back before your image became more important than the music and pop was everything.

DIRTY BUSINESS

They still cut stuff like this today, yet few listen to it. But back when we had plenty of time, we enjoyed eight minute tracks like this. “Dirty Business” is hypnotic, play it now and you’ll find your mind set free, like you’re in the mountains and you’re high, whether naturally or substance-induced.

LAST LONELY EAGLE

Close your eyes and you almost think Jerry Garcia is singing. Well, at least in parts!

Sure, there’s the ecological element, after Kent State so many retreated to the land, before they became narcissistic and went to EST and the Me Decade was hatched, but “Last Lonely Eagle” is nothing so much as the sound Garcia ended up pursuing on his solo efforts, when his music could be more personal, when he could follow his muse without worrying about what the committee had to say. You see Garcia had enough fans to keep him alive, to buy not only his solo work but his work with Merl Saunders and so much more. This is the career you want.

LOUISIANA LADY

The album closer, the kind of track that gets you up to the point where you’re let down when the album ends. You’ve got no option but to flip it over and play it once again.

Dawson is dead. The New Riders no longer open for the Dead, they stopped doing that long ago. The band is a period piece, that everyone who was there knows and no one who wasn’t doesn’t seem to. But the truth is our less than superstar acts were so much better than so many hit acts of today. The New Riders Of The Purple Sage were not formulaic, they had melody, Dawson could sing and they all could play.

What a concept!

Rhinofy-New Riders Of The Purple Sage

Crawling from the wreckage into a brand new car

Bill Simmons has edges. To the point where ESPN’s majordomo, John Skipper, decided to fire him.

This is like the high school principal teaching you a lesson. Proving that no individual is as big as the institution.

You had contempt for the administration at your educational institution, and too often you have contempt for the business institution that employs you.

Bill Simmons started online, penning columns for AOL.

But he got a leg up with ESPN and he knows it’s too late to go independent, that talent rules if you have advisers who know how to ride on the institution’s coattails.

ESPN is challenged. Not only is it losing talent, its payments lie in the balance of cord-cutting. The cable companies will be fine, they’ll just jack up the price for internet. That’s right, when confronted with an insane bill from Time Warner I told them to cancel my television. But that would only save me ten bucks. For that same amount of money not only did I get a ton of channels, including HBO, but they bumped my internet speed up to 200.

But cable channels… They make their money by charging the providers, the cable systems, who hate to pay, because that just makes their service ever more expensive. You cable customers are paying six plus bucks for ESPN every month even if you’re not watching it, and a lot of people aren’t, they don’t want to pay for it, and when we go a la carte, ESPN is in trouble. One can argue sports are in trouble, because in many cases it’s ESPN paying a fortune for rights.

So, the outlook for ESPN does not look bright.

But the outlook for HBO looks amazing!

HBO has no advertising. The public hates ads. And, as a result, HBO’s not beholden to the advertisers, they don’t have to worry if content is too racy or if it gets enough viewers. As long as enough people pay to cover the cost of production, business is good.

Right now most are paying for HBO via their cable provider.

But now you can buy HBO independently.

And what is HBO doing?

DOUBLING-DOWN!

Making more shows than ever, increasing the value proposition.

And as a result there’s a virtuous circle, more programming begets more subscribers which begets more word of mouth which begets more subscribers and more money to make more programming.

And by perching itself at the top of the heap, by giving free rein to its talent, HBO gets the pick of the litter. Getting a show on HBO is like getting into Harvard. Something everybody wants but few achieve. You build your resume in movies and TV and if you’re lucky, you get accepted. HBO only wants the best.

Now HBO had a hiccup of its own. With the Chris Albrecht affair. But it turned out there was enough DNA in the outlet to sustain his loss and prosper. So, John Skipper you’re feeling good today, but when you get fired tomorrow…

So, there’s no better place for Bill Simmons to go than HBO.

Those who don’t know how the game is played would tell him to go independent. To have all the control, to make all the money. But the truth is in today’s cluttered world you need help. Nate Silver and Ezra Klein tried this, with Fiverthirtyeight and Vox respectively. Most of their audience did not travel. And it’s hard to gain new customers, there’s no overflow, like there is with HBO, from other shows on the network.

So Bill Simmons comes out smelling like a rose.

Illustrating that top-tier talent always wins. That anybody who claims “You’ll never work in this town again.” is living in a different era. Teaching talent a lesson is passe, especially when it’s superstar talent. Superstar talent is the grease upon which these outlets prosper.

If you’re not Bill Simmons, or Bill Maher….

You’re not exactly screwed, but you’re in trouble.

There’s only room for one in today’s world. That’s what the great unwashed wannabes don’t understand. There’s very little room at the top. And those who sustain have been at it for a long time.

And what keeps them there is not playing ball, but being themselves.

In a phony world where politicians pander and executives get along we need people to believe in. It’s the essence of Bills Simmons and Maher, as well as Donald Trump. You may not like them, but large groups of people do. Because they embody their frustration, their anger at having to conform.

Especially millennials. Who’ve been told to get along to get ahead. They need heroes.

Furthermore, HBO knows the new rules. That free is fine when you’re building.

You can stream John Oliver on YouTube. You only erect fences when people want to tear down the walls. There’s plenty of money if you’re willing to wait.

Everybody else wants it now.

But Bill Simmons is testimony to the proposition that life is long, and hard, and even if it looks like you’re losing today, you might be winning in the end.

So, have a personality. Speak your truth. It’ll alienate some, but it will bond others ever more closer to you.

And know that it’s very hard to build a star, especially one who sustains. And that he who gets to the mountaintop gets to write his own ticket.

Also, the world works best when you use someone else’s vehicle to get ahead. Better than having your own car in college is having a best friend with one. You don’t have have the headaches of insurance, repair and gas.

Bill Simmons doesn’t have to worry about promotion and distribution, he’s just got to do his act.

That’s what all talent desires, the ability to just do its act.

Dave Edmunds “Crawling From The Wreckage”

He can’t win and he shouldn’t…

But it’s mindblowing to watch the pundits and players react to his statements.

I’ve got no love for John McCain, but he’s an untouchable. You can’t question the man because of his war hero status. But what if you questioned that itself? What if you refused to play by the rules?

Then the political class would call foul and ask for your ouster.

But there are no ejections in politics, never mind yellow cards.

I’m utterly fascinated by Donald Trump’s inability to apologize, his willingness to double-down on his controversial comments.

But I’m also laughing as I watch those who perceive themselves to be in power utterly flummoxed by him.

You see America is all about authenticity and identity, and those are sorely missing in the twenty first century. As soon as you gain traction, as soon as you gain personal power, you’re supposed to make friends with everybody else who’s a rung up the ladder and play nice. You can’t criticize your brethren. You must stay above the fray. You’re a member of a club, akin to a country club, and you’ve got to wear the appropriate clothing or else you get kicked out.

It’s even worse on college campuses, those theoretical bastions of debate. Comedians won’t play there for fear of being ostracized. You see young ‘uns can’t take a joke. But the truth is a few can’t take a joke and the rest are afraid of them.

So everybody goes to rehab, a kind of Free Parking for faux pas.

And everybody’s chummy.

And the rest of us sit on the sidelines wondering what happened to our country, how we got here. While you’re all yapping it up at the Correspondents’ Dinner, we’re worried about putting food on the table now that our unemployment benefits have run out.

And tech is not immune. Never forget that Steve Jobs famously hatched an illegal anti-poaching scheme. The rich and powerful want to stay that way, and they do it via collusion.

So you’ve got a blowhard real estate developer who’s neither as rich nor as powerful as he says, but believes his own b.s. and is running for President.

That’s right, Trump lives in a bubble. He’s not the only one. Grow up in Manhattan and attend an Ivy League school and chances are you too know nothing about how the disadvantaged truly live, despite doing charity work so you could beef up your college application.

But Trump is famous as a result of self-promotion and a TV show and he’s leveraging that fame to run for President. Sound delusional? Never forget that Minnesota elected a wrestler to be governor and California elected a body-builder. And I’d like to tell you that they both achieved great success, but the truth is running a government is a skill, akin to an athletic competition. Jerry Brown could never win in the ring, but he’s accomplished more than Schwarzenegger ever could, because not only does he know the players, he understands the game.

Which is why it’s a mistake to believe Trump could rule effectively.

Then again, a President is just CEO of the country, why do we elect one on a popularity/beauty contest basis?

And it’s great the entertainment/media complex put Trump in the penalty box for his immigration comments. You’ve got to hit him where they live, in this case on TV and at the bank.

But this McCain thing…

Trump spoke and every news outlet said he was toast.

There you go again Donald, you hit one outside the line, you touched the third rail. Your consolation prize is continued fame and a great story, take your parting gift and go.

But the truth is the proletariat, those who actually vote, don’t employ these same rules. Judith Miller gets in bed with Bush and his cronies and convinces “New York Times” readers war is a good thing. But where is the trusted source for those supporting Trump? Furthermore, the well-educated know that seemingly everybody is serving somebody, and maybe the media is not to be trusted.

I’d tell you to pivot, to admit your mistakes, because we’re all human, we’re all capable of being wrong, we’re all able to learn new things.

But I’d also tell you we need heroes. People to look up to and believe in.

And I certainly don’t believe in Donald Trump. But a lot of people do, the same way we believed in the Beatles.

That’s right… You’re smoking in interviews? Saying you’re more popular than Jesus? Breaking the code?

Trump is playing by rock star rules. Which is I’m so rich I can do whatever I want, the rules don’t apply to me.

And this antagonizes those who’ve spent their whole lives sucking up, playing the game. Because if the rules don’t apply their efforts have been worthless.

That’s America, where everybody’s mealy-mouthed and can’t speak their personal truth. Hell, you read about it all the time in the business pages, people writing in for advice about their bad bosses, their duplicitous coworkers. They want to tell them off, say take this job and shove it, but they’re afraid.

Donald Trump is not afraid.

And that’s why he’s resonating with his constituency.

We used to look up to artists. They played this role.

But once we decided that money was the definitive arbiter and artists didn’t make enough we shifted our attention to businessmen.

And most businessmen are about breaking rules as opposed to obeying them. Hell, no Napster without rule-breaking, and then no Apple iPod, never mind iTunes and the resulting iPhone.

Everything great has come out of people who say they just don’t like what’s going on.

So I’d say hate the player, but love the game. The one Trump is playing. Where he’s confounding the pussyfooting political cabal.

How is it Donald Trump knows it’s all about the voters and everybody inside the Beltway thinks it’s all about them?

Maybe he’s on to something.