“The Beatles: Eight Days A Week – The Touring Years”

Every artist should see this movie.

It could ignite Beatlemania all over again. But it’s the arc that gets to you. Four lads with no future forced to believe in themselves turn into jaded men who just can’t do it the same way anymore.

That’s right, they’re in Germany, playing for eight hours a day and becoming disillusioned. That’s what they don’t tell you, the road to success will not only have potholes, but perceived dead ends, anybody who tells you they’re convinced they’ll make it is lying. But John would tell the other blokes living in one cramped room with a loo down the hall that they were going to the “toppermost of the poppermost” and they’d soldier on.

To the point where Brian Epstein takes notice and takes charge.

Every great act has a great manager. One who not only paves the way, but has vision. Much has been written about how Brian made bad deals, but he got the band deals, when otherwise they’d have just faded into oblivion, ended up as illustrators or blue collar laborers having a laugh at the pub regarding the reckless days of their youth.

Brian Epstein had faith. As did George Martin.

And from there, it was a rocket ship.

And we were along for the ride.

And oh what a glorious trip it was. Imagine sitting at home minding your own business and then having a mellifluous sound come out of the radio that not only woke you up, but changed your life. That’s what the Beatles were, a left turn off the beaten path, one we took instantly, a journey upon which we never looked back, one which made us happy.

And then they sustained. Everybody thought it was a fad, that’s why “A Hard Day’s Night” had to be rushed out, before it was over. The old men didn’t believe, they’d seen this thing before, as for the lads, they were clueless, they were just soldiering on, busy all day, trying to hold on.

And the performances are electrifying. From when if you couldn’t get a ticket you were truly left out, your heart’s desire was to be inside, where you couldn’t hear but you could feel, and feeling is everything.

They were climbing the ladder, they were going for the brass ring.

And then it became meaningless.

Life is about doing what you’re good at endlessly, until you die or retire.

But not if you’re an artist. An artist challenges not only himself (or herself!), but the audience. You go by your gut, if you’re playing it safe, you die inside.

Money was important, but proving their worth, impacting the populace, that was more important.

You see they were testing limits, and we were along for the ride.

“I Want To Hold Your Hand” sounded nothing like what was already on the radio. We blinked, and then climbed on board.

“Rubber Soul” had no singles, it was pooh-poohed and then embraced, it lasted.

And “Sgt. Pepper” was a climb beyond Everest, not only was it unexpected, not only were we unprepared, but they went there and we followed them, we’d follow the Beatles anywhere.

But by 1966 there was nowhere they wanted to go other than home and to the studio. Live gigs had lost their luster. They were disorganized dashes for cash. It was no longer about the music, but “The Beatles,” and that wasn’t enough.

They were cheeky. They didn’t give the reporters what they always wanted.

They smoked. When you see Paul look to George for a light while John is talking to a reporter you light up inside, privy to this intimate moment, this is not stars frolicking for the camera, but real people going about their lives, just like you and me.

But they weren’t.

But they were part of our lives. You’ve got no idea how important Beatle albums were unless you were there. Money was limited, you or your parents would buy an LP and you’d play it endlessly, till the grooves went gray, till you knew every lick by heart. So when you see the story played out on film…

It’s about the music.

But pictures convey a message even more strongly when you’re telling a story.

Beatlemania really happened. Gods walked the earth. They were nurtured by the system and then spread their wings and flew, more attention was paid to them than Jesus. That’s right, John Lennon’s statement may have irked the fuddy-duddys, but not those who truly believed.

And they were scared, of retribution, of violence, because…

It had never been done before. Not on this scale, not in this way. They were inventing it as they want along, and were working too hard to second-guess it, they were running on instinct.

But they grew, they evolved. From puppy love to adult introspection.

And they took us along with them.

This is not VH1’s “Behind The Music.” This isn’t even that multi-night Beatles television extravaganza of two decades past.

No, this is the tuning fork, resonating, getting it right.

Too many of the talking heads are superfluous. Just because you’re famous now, we don’t care what you think about then, the Beatles were for everybody, we owned them just as much as you. But when Whoopi Goldberg talks about being a fan, going to Shea Stadium, you marvel, these four Scousers broke the color line.

Sugarcoat it, put it in a vault, make it a curio.

But you’ll be getting it wrong.

This is the story of my generation. Of being all you can be, of pushing the envelope. Not doing it for the money, but the sheer existential joy and satisfaction.

You’ll be singing along to the songs.

You’ll feel like a voyeur watching footage you never thought existed.

But first and foremost you’ll be inspired. To pay your dues. To get it right. To do what you believe in your heart. To test the limits.

Those are the Beatle lessons.

And they still need to be learned.

These people are athletes, not role models, but since NBC has to sell advertising, the media gets on the bandwagon and venerates these people so out of touch with reality, having pursued their sport doggedly for their entire lives, we’re led to believe they’re better than us.

But they’re not.

Come on, who doesn’t expect there’s a camera everywhere these days?

Crimes of passion may continue to exist, but petty theft, minor infractions, they’re going by the wayside because we’ve got videotape, everywhere. So, if you lie about your exploits, beware.

Of course, we’ve lost a lot of privacy along the way, and that’s lamentable, but this is the world we live in, one in which a certain segment of the public believes it’s above the law, good work Rio cops on holding these frat boys accountable.

Now it’s different with musicians. Musicians have something to say, assuming they’re writing their own material, which too few successful ones are these days, so when your favorite singer opines about something else, we listen, because they’ve earned our trust and attention.

However, the adoration and the degradation of celebrities clash online. Some need to believe, so they police every comment to see if their heroes are torn down. Others denigrate heroes willy-nilly. Meanwhile, the owners of this country, the people who really run it, are behaving heinously, and if you even get wind of this you wonder…why should I be playing by the rules?

Put Philippe Dauman on TMZ. One of the highest paid CEOs in the world who decimated the company during his reign, not only putting Viacom in the dumper but plotting to sell half of Paramount to make the stock climb. And then, when caught in a noose of his own device, he wouldn’t let go, he sued to keep his job and ultimately was paid the budget of a medium-sized city to go away.

What’s happening here? Was it always this bad or did we just never know?

There’s a lot of sunshine shone on bad behavior online. It’s indiscriminate and barely lasts but I’ve got to give Donald Trump credit for one thing, he blew a giant hole in the politically correct speech construct of this nation. Now you can say whatever you want, taboo is out the window, and although Trump might be taking this too far, at least the public world is starting to resemble the real world, one where expletives are employed and people get high and make mistakes…

But somehow the rich and famous rarely pay for them. They apologize and go to rehab and are washed of their sins as if they put themselves in the washing machine and exited after the spin cycle. Where’s responsibility, where’s a sense of shame?

Bode Miller makes less than bright comments, fails to medal and he’s a jerk. Ryan Lochte performs in the pool, busts up a bathroom, lies about it, defaming a whole country, but we give him a pass.

I believe in paying for your sins. Acknowledging your mistakes and then correcting course.

So why doesn’t Philippe Dauman give his payoff to charity?

Why isn’t there a story about Tom Freston, who was replaced by Dauman after he refused to lie about projections. It’s a public company folks, but you can’t speak the truth, you’ve got to underpromise and overdeliver, like Steve Jobs and Les Moonves.

But we put everybody on a pedestal who wins. Not caring if they put their thumb on the scale or they’re jerks truly unworthy of our attention.

Ryan Lochte should be banished from the discussion. He should go home sans endorsements and work at the 7/11, he should fade away and not radiate.

Michael Phelps smokes dope and is a pariah.

But he wins more gold and is a god?

I’ve been whiplashed by a media with no conscience. I just want someone to believe in. But it looks like it’s only me.

We’re all bozos on this bus. You think you’re inferior to the rich and famous, but they’ve just gotten more publicity.

Ignore the shenanigans.

Saoirse Ronan is that good in this movie.

I know, I know, “Brooklyn” came out last year, was trumped-up as being Oscar-worthy, might have been nominated and even won, but I’ve given up on the Academy Awards, what was once a ritual can now be skipped, whether African-Americans are nominated or not, because movies have jumped the shark, they’re two-dimensional features made for worldwide consumption whose grosses are trotted out as if the money made was equal to quality, but it’s not.

But, the overhype of “Brooklyn” did turn me off.

Like the inane “For Consideration” ads in the New York and Los Angeles “Times” for TV shows for Emmys. Yes, the Emmys are more significant than the Oscars, even if winning doesn’t yet carry the same gravitas, but these ads are a colossal waste of money by a tone-deaf industry propping up a newspaper business that needs to get a grip. Can we cut this self-congratulatory crap and just donate the money to charity, or make more indie films like “Brooklyn”?

It’s slow.

Yup kids, it doesn’t grip you from the outset. Beautifully shot, but I’m watching on an iPad. An Air2, so the image is sharp, but not only is it tiny, I’m not in a darkened room, I’m not taken away.

But…

Eilis has no future in Ireland. There’s no work. So her sister petitions the church to make a place for her in America.

Eilis is played by Saoirse Ronan. And it’s only over time that her beauty is revealed. And this picture would benefit if she were less attractive and her boyfriend too, but that’s not what sells the fantasy. But I’m sitting there asking myself, why would such a pretty woman want to be involved with a plumber?

But that doesn’t undercut the movie.

She’s unsure and she’s homesick and… Too many people don’t cut the apron strings today. Used to be, when I grew up, in the good old days, when you’d walk ten miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways, your parents would send you off to summer camp, you’d go away to college, you’d have no cell phone, and you’d have to find your own way.

Doing your work and making friends along the way.

That’s the essence of life, building your network, which supports you. A skill that too few are good at, they get older and relationships fray and they’re all alone. That’s the epidemic ripping apart America, loneliness.

But two-thirds of the way through this movie, when Eilis returns to Ireland…

Tension. It’s what makes a film, and there’s tension here. Eilis has finally adjusted to New York, she’s finally happy, she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life.

But the old country people are not interested, they want to return her to what once was, for their own purposes.

Being independent is such a challenge. For all the hogwash about parents being their children’s best friends, the underbelly is disapproval and disappointment when they go their own way, which they do less. It’s your one and only life, can you make yourself happy?

It’s much more difficult to do than you think. The first step is the hardest, letting go of the rope, walking the wire without a net, so many are afraid. And those behind them don’t want them to make the journey. Your friends don’t want you to spread your wings and fly, they’re afraid you’re gonna leave them behind.

But the old people are small with their petty wants and desires and offenses, you’ve outgrown them, they don’t want to come along, they want to stay where they are.

And with a little perspective you can see the downsides of where you once were. Eilis is loving being back in Ireland until…

That’s why I moved to Los Angeles, for the anonymity. That’s what’s lacking in today’s society, when everybody can track you online you can’t breathe, when every movement is scrutinized, you become inhibited. And it’s not only the rank and file, but the famous too. That woman in Fifth Harmony being shamed on Twitter, Justin Bieber being hated on Instagram. You’re just living your life…

Or maybe you’re not, maybe you’re bragging.

But the whole world has turned into high school, and that sucks.

The truth is life is about the interior. We focus on the exterior, what we wear, what we drive, our job, all the trappings. But inner desires, wants, angst, that’s what we depend upon art to reveal, because oftentimes we’re too uptight to talk about it, if we can even find words. That’s what’s wrong with the comic book movies, they may have plot, but there’s no truth, and we’re looking for truth. And when Eilis goes back to Ireland and now finds it appealing…

It’s a conundrum. Is every situation in life fungible? Is there one true soul mate, one way of living your life that will make you happy, or are their multiple roads to the destination? And when you’re young, it’s all brand new, you keep asking the questions. And when you’re old, you’re too set in your ways to change, so you live through art, your hopes and dreams are embodied therein.

When Eilis is back in Ireland and is torn between two lovers…

You’ll ache, you’ll identify, you’ll have no idea how it’s going to turn out. Do you embrace the tried and true, family and location, or do you strike out on your own for something better and stay there?

I don’t know.

But I do know this question is expertly asked in “Brooklyn.”

It’s on HBO Go. I suggest firing it up late at night, when it’s only you and your brain rattling around the room. You’ll watch it and you’ll see your life.

Because all of our lives are the same, all the questions similar, we’re all struggling, we’re all presented with choices.

And you’ve got to make ’em.

However hard it might be to come to a decision.

But one thing’s for sure, do what’s right in your heart.

It may not work out, but you’ll have fewer regrets.

And that’s what life is about, not victories, but avoiding regrets. You want to feel that you played the game to your fullest, it’s not about trophies and awards, but experiences and joy, feeling fully alive.

I felt fully alive watching “Brooklyn.”

I came to hear “I Took A Pill In Ibiza,” but I got so much more! It was the most meaningful gig in memory, I couldn’t play the radio on the way home, I was numb, I was basking in the experience.

I didn’t expect this, when we spoke in the green room…he wasn’t completely forthcoming, he was answering my questions but hesitantly, with a smile on his face, I thought this was somewhat contemptuous, but it turns out that’s his speaking style, and when he was interviewed I was positively enraptured!

It was like those old Q&A’s in “Rolling Stone,” back when the musicians had something to say, Mike Posner has something to say, which is so strange, because so many of today’s stars are just front people for middle-aged men, but Posner not only wrote his own hits, he’s got a brain, he thought about it all, sitting there you’d be inspired to be a musician, techies build edifices for money, artists explore the mind.

Mike’s manager said Mike liked to work. He’s opening for Selena Gomez and Nick Jonas and he had a free night and…

Mike said that he takes his band to gigs so they can learn. Springsteen taught him you don’t need the trappings, the music can be enough, and Guns N’ Roses taught him about energy, he used to walk on stage slowly and build from there, now he runs on stage adrenalized, on a tear. As for maintaining the energy, he’s only got forty minutes!

So, he’s been doing it since he was eight, he’s twenty eight now. Had some hits and then the label wouldn’t put out his second record and he sold the songs to others and suddenly he was a has-been. To be on the wrong end of stardom at such a young age, it hurts, because Posner does it for the approval, he’s not proud of it, but it’s true, and one negative review eclipses twenty good ones. Yes, he checks the socials. He does a poem in his show, he loves reading how it changes attendees’ lives, but there’s always one writer who says it ruined a good evening. Huh?

Podcasts give him inspiration. Especially two Tim Ferriss episodes. One featuring a woman whose name I don’t remember, she said you can only be the best you, which means you have to pursue your own artistic vision, not someone else’s, because only you can give this gift to the world. Made sense to me, inspired me.

And when he was down and out he went to Burning Man. He debated whether to bring his guitar, ultimately decided to, but didn’t want to brag in a society based on pure identity. But one day he went off to play songs for people, it’s his gift, what he’s got to give. And people were stunned, they told him to keep at it, he had a chance, and this was already after multiple hits!

Mike laughed.

Then again, he’s not recognizable.

How did he get so smart?

Turns out he graduated from Duke, stayed in school and finished his degree after getting a record deal, a great antidote to the tech wankers who say education is irrelevant. It might be, but finishing things is not, life is about character.

And the presentation started off with Mike at the piano playing “Buried In Detroit,” from his 2016 album, “At Night, Alone.” And he said the album format was irrelevant, a construct for a dead world. You can only surpass the limits if you throw off aged constrictions.

And then came the interview segment. And, once you got used to his rhythm, the way he hesitates before he speaks, you hang on every word. He talks about his parents, his teachers, stuff he’s not proud of and stuff he is.

And then he strung on his guitar once again and with a keyboard player gave a full concert, kept adding numbers, because he was having such a good time. Two highlights were a song about Miley Cyrus and “Be As You Are.”

The Miley Cyrus song is not on the new album. It’s a war story, about going overseas and getting your legs blown off and…everyone’s either humming “Party In The U.S.A.” or singing it or it’s playing in the background and by time the protagonist gets back to Atlanta he no longer wants to hear it and no longer wants to see anybody. It was like 1962 all over again, the hootenanny era. Mike encapsulated the horror of the war in a song, more people need to hear it.

“Be As You Are” is a winner. The key is the words of wisdom from his mother:

There are moments when you fall to the ground
But you are stronger than you feel you are now
You don’t always have to speak so loud, no
Just be as you are
Life is not always a comfortable ride
Everybody’s got scars that they hide
And everybody plays the fool sometimes, yeah
Just be as you are

Mike grew up a hip-hop kid, but it’s the sing-songy melody that puts this over the top.

And the assembled multitude was singing along. The younger generation, the two hundred or so who were there in attendance, they need this music to make sense of a world that’s so confusing.

And I love listening to records, but seeing Mike Posner live is a transcendent experience, it’s authentic, it’s one human being connecting with another, that’s the magic of live performance, something that cannot be replicated, can’t be sold via VR, no, you have to be there.

And I was there, last night, at the edge of my seat.

And then Mike had us all stand, singing our parts and…

It started to dawn on me, he wasn’t gonna play it. Time was sliding by, far beyond the allotted window, he was gonna be a jerk, leaving us hungry for what we came for, I finally understood the audience perspective, a hard core fan is interested in the album cuts, but the others paying the fee, they need to hear the hit.

And just when it seemed it was over, he did, play the hit, that is.

I took a pill in Ibiza
To show Avicii I was cool

Most haven’t been to the Balearics, few know Avicii, almost no one has taken a pill in his presence, but Mike felt…the experience was universal, we can relate.

But you don’t wanna be high like me
Never really knowing why like me
You don’t wanna step off that roller coaster and be all alone

Beware of achieving your dream, you think it’ll make your life work, but it’s a good chance it’ll ruin it.

I’m just a singer who already blew his shot
I get along with old timers
‘Cause my name’s a reminder of a pop song people forgot

A has-been. You don’t think it’ll happen to you, then your notable work is in the rearview mirror.

“I Took A Pill In Ibiza” resonates because of its truth, nothing conveys the human experience more than music, when it’s done right, and Mike Posner was doing it right last night.

Brought tears to my eyes. What could be better than singing along to a song you know by heart, one that resonates, one that means so much to you.

It’s what I live for, it makes life complete.

P.S. If you’re out of the loop, and today so many are, after riding the top of the Spotify chart for so long, “I Took A Pill In Ibiza” is still number 48 on the Spotify chart, it was played 340,515 times yesterday, 583,372,214 times in its lifespan, never mind 515,179,767 views on YouTube. That’s the Seeb remix, the EDM edition. The acoustic iteration has 17,006,905 streams on Spotify, “I Took A Pill In Ibiza” just might be the song of the year, shows how far honesty and serendipity will get you.

“I Took A Pill In Ibiza” – Seeb Remix

“I Took A Pill In Ibiza” – acoustic

“Be As You Are”