He died.

Maybe you weren’t alive in 1978 when “Baker Street” filled the airwaves.

Gerry Rafferty was one half of Stealers Wheel which had minor chart impact with “Stuck In The Middle With You” and then came this.

Winding your way down on Baker Street

Some songs take you away. They pour out of the stereo and the rest of the world stops, time is made for the magic elixir that comes out of the speakers. You had to buy “City to City” just to hear this.

And “Baker Street” was magical in so many ways. The almost Broadway-esque opening notes, the intimacy of Rafferty’s vocal, the poignancy of the lyrics, and Raphael Ravenscroft’s sax playing.

Ravenscroft said it was out of tune, that he was paid in the neighborhood of fifty bucks to do it. But it made him a star, because people just needed to get closer to that sound.

You used to think that it was so easy
You used to say that it was so easy
But you’re trying, you’re trying now

That’s what Gerry Rafferty was doing. His moment of success was years behind him. That’s right, he had a mild hit, its longevity was unknown, this was long before “Stuck In The Middle With You”‘s revival in “Reservoir Dogs,” he could only soldier on.

And that’s what’s so frustrating about life, the trying. You keep reaching for the brass ring and it eludes your grasp. Life is ultimately about loneliness, the pursuit of the individual struggle and the failure thereof. Even if you win, it doesn’t last.

But most people never get the big victory.

Another year and then you’d be happy
Just one more year and then you’d be happy
But you’re crying, you’re crying now

I’ve been there, you’ve been there. Wondering whether you should give up. Lying alone on the living room floor, listening to your favorite tunes drunk on Carolans deep into the night, it’s the only thing that gets you high, that keeps you going, the music.

Not everybody is a hero. Not everybody is a legend. Not everybody is forever. Raphael Ravenscroft scored some major credits, he worked with Pink Floyd and Marvin Gaye, America and Robert Plant and Bonnie Tyler too, not that you’d know that if you didn’t go to Wikipedia. He was a journeyman. Whose time ran out.

Word is he had a stroke. He never recovered. Another musician gone before his time.

But his song lives on. It’s a part of rock and roll history. You may not know his name, but you know his tune.

Way down the street there’s a light in his place
He opens the door, he’s got that look on his face
And he asks you where you’ve been
You tell him who you’ve seen
And you talk about anything

Friendship. That’s all that matters in this life. If you have just one person who will listen to you, who’ll wrestle the concepts with you, you’ve won.

No one else is listening, no one else cares. But for this space of time, you feel connected, you feel vibrant, you feel alive.

He’s got this dream about buying some land
He’s gonna give up the booze and the one night stands
And then he’ll settle down
In some quiet little town
And forget about everything

Gerry Rafferty could not give up the booze. It killed him.

I don’t know what caused Raphael Ravenscroft’s downfall.

But I do know that at some point you surrender. You realize you want to steer, you want to be in control, but you’re not. What do they say, life is for the living?

That’s your goal.

Stop bitching that you’re being screwed by the system.

And know that great art triumphs. There’s never been a song like “Baker Street” before or since. It’s different, it’s iconic, it’s everything we’re looking for. And when it was cut Raphael Ravenscroft had no idea it would be a hit, his ticket to immortality.

Because that’s the way it always is. Life is not for the planners. It’s made for the risk-takers, the ones who are up for a lark.

You can’t do it their way, they don’t know how they did it anyway.

You’ve got to do it your way.

Our rock and roll history is made up of a plethora of people. Some who were here forever, some who lit up the stage only momentarily. But when one goes down, we all feel it.

I’m feeling it tonight.

Let me get over you
THE WAY YOU’VE GOTTEN OVER ME!

The weather changed. Traditionally summer comes late to SoCal and lasts late, September is the hottest month of the year. But this year October was just as blistering. It was like living in vacationland, everybody in shorts on hot nights, parading down the avenues…and that’s right, usually nobody walks in L.A!

But then it suddenly cooled. Which is quite a surprise. I thought we were living through that “Twilight Zone,” the one where the Earth is moving closer and closer to the sun. We’ve got no water, we’re dying from the heat, do we all have to get in our cars and drive to the North Pole?

But I’ve retired the fan. I don’t have to immediately open the windows in my house. The sun is at a different angle. Night falls early. And every song on the radio sounds good.

Maybe because this is the time of year I moved to L.A. It’s hard to fathom if you live anywhere else, it never really gets cold, the seasons do change, but you can wear a light jacket through Christmas, even though the locals don down.

And the auto a/c is not a necessity. And the sun doesn’t forbid an open roof. So I’m driving down the street, pushing the satellite buttons, smiling all the while.

And yesterday I heard “You Keep Me Hangin’ On.”

For a long time the original was forgotten. The long, slowed-down Vanilla Fudge epic was the rendition of record. But it’s funny how the sands of time move. The Fudge have been forgotten, the Supremes live on.

And my favorite Supremes song is “Come See About Me.”

And I’ve got a soft spot in my heart for “Reflections.”

And I’ll never forget being introduced to the group via “Where Did Our Love Go,” which hit the airwaves about the same time as the Shangri-Las “Remember (Walking In The Sand).” I thought they were competing girl groups. Little did I know…

Set me free why don’t you baby
Get out my life why don’t you baby
‘Cause you don’t really love me
You just keep me hangin’ on

At age 11 it was a jail metaphor. Sure, I’d just had my first summer camp relationship, but that was all about tingly feelings, I had to get older to know torture. And it’s always the same, they always come back, however briefly. It takes all of their gumption to decide to go, they’ve made up their mind long before they tell you, and then they come back, what’s up with that?

Why do you keep a’ comin’ around
Playin’ with my heart
Why don’t you get out of my life
And let me make a new start

The track starts off with the chorus, always an appealing construct, but then the change to the first verse is purely magical. It’s like we’ve gone from mindless to sincere, declaration to meaning. It’s like Diana Ross is stopping the show to ask us, why does he keep engaging in this behavior?

You say although we broke up
You still gonna be just friends
But how can we still be friends
When seein’ you only breaks my heart again

I don’t understand this friends business.

I’m gonna set you straight, when someone says the breakup was mutual, they’re lying. Sure, it might have been bad, but someone always wants out first, someone pushes the button, pulls the ripcord. And why is it always this person, the one with the power, who says they want to be friends?

You know my life story, we’ve exchanged bodily fluids, now you’re gonna make like that didn’t happen? You can’t take back so much, once the rocket blasts into space it falls back to earth, there ain’t nothing you can do about it, the relationship is toast, let me try to get it out of my mind, forget it, so I can move on.

You claim you still care for me
But your heart and soul needs to be free
Now that you’ve got your freedom
You wanna still hold on to me
You don’t want me for yourself
So let me find somebody else

That’s what they always say, they need to be free. If this is true, why do they keep coming back to the ball and chain? If we’re so bad, and they tell us so, why do they still want us? And when you’re young, you’re susceptible to this message, you’re confused, you think there’s something wrong with you when the truth is your partner is weak. They say they don’t want to hurt you, but really they don’t want to hurt themselves.

Perspective is so funny. I just heard Richard Harris sing “MacArthur Park” on 60s on 6 and I was reveling in it, and I positively hated the track back when.

And then there’s stuff like “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” that I thought was a trifle, but turns out to be laden with meaning, it’s just that I was a couple of years and a couple of changes behind it.

And that’s a great record. Not only one that gives us insight into our lives, but continues to do so as we evolve. The track is static, but as our angle of vision changes, new elements are revealed.

But songs are different from people. Songs stay, people don’t. Songs are dependable, people are not. When you find someone you can count on, hold on, then again, do you really want to be free?

That’s the world we live in, one made up of those who want to stick and those who don’t.

But the truth is we all want to be glued together. It’s just tough.

So we listen to records to get us through.

You Keep Me Hangin’ On – Spotify

You Keep Me Hangin’ On – YouTube

 

Have brands trumped bands?

I was wondering this as I walked through Red Bull HQ today. With every seat taken, with young hipsters in front of their computer screens, it’s everything the music business was before Napster, when those coasting on CD profits, both replacement and buy one overpriced one to hear one hit track (remember Chumbawamba?) were rolling in dough and thought the good times would last forever.

But they didn’t.

Used to be the hippest store on the planet was Tower Records.

Now the retail emporium of choice is the Apple Store. They both feature a buzz, both give you the feeling you’re at the epicenter of what’s happening. But the profit margins on Apple’s gear is far superior.

But Apple is selling tools and the labels sold music. What is Red Bull selling?

Energy drinks.

That’s the difference between going to Red Bull’s offices and the record company’s, no one talks about the product. Then again, they kept telling me the consumable was just a gateway to so much cooler stuff, and they’re right.

The most impressive thing I saw today? The gaming studio. Sponsored by Nvidia, able to transmit competitions around the world. The “New York Times” has been talking about “League of Legends” for a week, Red Bull entered the space years ago. Because when it comes to popular culture, there’s always a first mover advantage. This is what the music industry lacks. We can’t even go social at the show. There’s no gamification, no points for buying tickets, the music industry is so bottom line it’s like a flophouse, with beds and nothing else.

And then there’s their television station. Or Media-something. Everything’s got a name at Red Bull, not that I can remember it.

But in this case, Red Bull is trying to take over programming. And it did a good job of this at Lollapalooza and Austin City Limits, where it streamed the performances but not only the performances, they turned it into programming, with hosts and interstitial material, knowing that raw data is neither sexy nor comprehensible, it’s what you do with it.

And it takes money to do this, and Red Bull is spending.

That’s the dirty little secret of the music business, everyone’s tight. You can’t get paid what you’re owed, never mind get help to promote. Red Bull paid for Skrillex to visualize his show in a loft downtown. Previously, it was only a two-dimensional computer image. But with the company’s help, Skrillex could build the props and see what they looked like in real life, because everything’s about experimentation, you rarely get it right on the first pass.

And Red Bull is experimenting.

It all comes down to their founder. And I could look up his name, I’ve forgotten it, but that’s just the point. In entertainment, the execs want to be stars, smart businessmen know the product rules. And once this guy noticed action sports heroes using the drink, he signed them up and capitalized on it. Red Bull was in action sports for two decades before they got into music.

That’s right, Red Bull is deep into music. They had a first class studio in the back of the building, where they give away time for free. But in return… They feature you in all their programming, in their magazine, they went on to tell me they’ve got relationships with every club in the world, because they all sell their main product, the energy drink.

And I think it tastes like horse piss. No, I haven’t consumed the urine of an equine, but I can’t imagine it’s much less satisfying. Then again, that’s the point, Red Bull is not made for me. It’s a club, of young ‘uns.

And the company is akin to a cult. The Hotel California. You can come in, but no one leaves. I was stunned that this employee had been there for nine years, another for seven years, before I’d seemingly even heard of the product.

And it makes me wonder, if you’re twenty years old today, where do you want to work, at the label or the corporation, Universal or Red Bull?

If you say the label you’re a wanker. There’s no upward mobility at the label. No risk. Old fart baby boomers have all the control. And the acts are all lower class denizens bending over to get reamed for a few shekels. It’s so sad I nearly want no part of it.

But music is the grease in so much of Red Bull’s machine. Music is important. It just doesn’t trump the brand.

Red Bull doesn’t ask for much. It only does deals that benefit both sides. It supports as opposed to dominating. There’s not endless signage and branding. It’s a twenty first century company. That’s right, one that knows consumer relationships are built on trust. And that you’re playing a long game.

But I still don’t think I could work there. Because there’s too much business and too little art. Everyone’s pedigreed, this one worked for Microsoft, they’re stars in marketing speak. But the soul is in art. But the artists have capitulated.

That’s right, I’m here to tell you Red Bull is cooler than almost all music.

Just when I’m down on the company, they load me up with movies that they financed, like the documentary on Shane McConkey, who had more charisma than anybody signed to Sony. They do put their money where their mouth is.

And they kept telling me the goal was to make all their initiatives self-sustaining. Music, gaming, television… To fiddle and fuss and get it right and then dominate. Kind of like Vice in news. But it turns out they’re already partners with Vice.

Welcome to the new world, where all the companies speak to each other. Synergy and networking rule.

But they don’t in art. Art is singular. Hell, the best work of the best artists doesn’t even sound alike. That was the magic of the Beatles, every track was different, we hung on every word. U2 spends five years to imitate themselves badly. The Dr. Luke hit factory resembles well made widgets instead of art. But art requires artists, unique people who are not eager to be members of society, who don’t do it to hang out with the tech titans but to express themselves, to speak truth to power.

But those people exited the building when it became cool to do endorsement deals.

And Red Bull’s deals are the coolest out there. They ask for little and deliver much. But you’re still hooking up with a corporation. It’s different for athletes, bodies demonstrate, artists think. You look at the athlete, you see inside the artist.

But who is Rihanna?

Who is Katy Perry?

Is Bono even a musician anymore?

No one’s satisfied with being an artist. Because they don’t believe there’s enough money in it. They don’t get that art trumps tech and Red Bull and that’s why these entities want to be involved with it.

That’s the world we live in.

Yup, about a mile from my house, in a nondescript brick building with no signage, the U.S. headquarters of the world’s biggest energy drink are housed. You see you don’t have to yell, you don’t have to promote yourself when you’re doing it right.

And Red Bull is doing it right.

“Not One Artist’s Album Has Gone Platinum In 2014”

Is it streaming, albums, the music or all three?

If you’re looking for evidence that the sales model is dead, here it is. If you’re a marginal band on the road surviving on $20 signed CDs, if you’re employing sales shenanigans as publicity to drive concert attendance, I’ve got no problem with that. But if you’re decrying the death of sales as a vast conspiracy of the military industrial complex, I feel sorry for you. Things change. Agitating for a return to the past based on the loss of some beneficial features in the future is futile in a world where we sacrifice the keyboards of our BlackBerries for apps on our Androids and iPhones. Something is always lost in the march of progress. You could lament the disappearance of vent windows in automobiles with the advent of air conditioning but you’d be fighting a losing battle because the exclusion of these small windows saved the manufacturers money and most people didn’t miss them, when was the last time you even thought of them?

Most people don’t miss owning music. They have faith in the internet. They believe access is like electricity, something you can count on. And if you still believe you need access to stream music I feel sorry for you, you’re uneducated.

So the public has spoken, people don’t need to own the product. They don’t need to show off their wares to others, but they still want to listen.

They just don’t want to listen to the album.

If we can’t force people to buy long players, if we put them online to be cherry-picked, people are going to. So the album is purely a promotional device, a way to get the antique media to trumpet your name and product and existence in this vast world of ours. But one shot promotion is a fading paradigm itself. It doesn’t pay ongoing dividends. In a world where what happened at noon is already forgotten at midnight who cares that you spent years crafting ten songs to bestow upon us. Come on, you’ve seen the story… This is my very best work, I love my producer, I’m in a good space, you need to listen…

Make me puke.

Turns out you’re not selling your brand, that’s another bunch of crap, you’re selling your music. And unless your music appeals, you’re screwed.

And here’s where the naysayers go nuclear. All this hogwash about the cost of production, the years of commitment, the odds stacked against them, the entitlement to attention. Where did they learn these untruths? It’s like a college graduate believing he’s entitled to a 500k a year job just because he graduated, delineating all the while what he studied in school. No, if you want our attention, you’ve got to earn it, the hard way, by making music we want to hear.

And some of this music is made every year. A lot of it by the usual suspects. Like Max Martin and Dr. Luke. And this makes everybody not working with them crazy. They say these pros make hackneyed tunes undeserving of the airwaves. But these complainers seem unable to construct competitive product.

So as we go forward, more than ever, it depends on the hit.

And it’s harder to have a hit than ever before. Because everybody’s listening in a different place. Which is another reason why there’s no platinum albums. Top Forty may be the dominant radio format, but most people aren’t listening to it!

And it turns out country fans have computers, they don’t need to buy the product either.

A hit opens doors. It goes viral via public comment. That’s right, the public makes the hits. Don’t believe me? Sing a song off of Beyonce’s latest album. Better yet, sing a Lorde song that’s not “Royals.” In an era of plenty, we only want the best.

And that sucks if you’re an artist who thinks they need forty minutes to make a statement, if you make music that must be listened to forty times to get it. I’ll be honest, in the seventies I came to like so much stuff because of radio repetition. I can’t all of that stuff was great. But today, no one is subjected to that level of repetition.

So, forget sales, they’re history, they’re a niche item. They’re the past, not the future.

And forget albums too. You’re creating a body of work.

But don’t think if you release one track a month that’s a good strategy. The key is to get a hard core audience that is interested in whatever you do and to feed them on a regular basis and to know this is where it ends unless you deliver something so special they make it go viral. That’s right, you’ll get more attention putting out an album and taking advantage of the media machine than throwing crap on the wall, but that promotional game is fading. Just like SoundScan numbers in publications are soon to be passe.

And know that music is hard. Those who write hits in five minutes wrote a ton of crap before that. And that writing a song is easy, but writing a great one is hard. And the fact that you like it does not mean everybody else will too.

Meanwhile, radio keeps driving down the niche road. It’s still the most powerful way to expose music, it’s just less powerful than ever before, and this is never going to change. Because radio hasn’t changed, it’s got phony personalities and too many commercials and makes you listen to what you don’t want to in order to hear what you do in an on demand culture. Just spinning records on radio is death, the same way airing videos on MTV is such.

So, so long platinum records. You were a construct of the classic rock era, when the music was so good everybody clamored to own it. Music was the iPhone of its day.

And so long diamond records, invented during the heyday of MTV when we all watched the same programming and were exposed to the same music. Today infinite choice has made that an impossibility. You either own the distribution channel, like YouTube, or you purvey quality, which attracts a crowd.

And soon, so long gold records. That’s right, not even 500,000 people will want to hear your long statement, because they don’t have time. It’d be like watching “House of Cards” and finding out there was only one good episode. Who’d want that? Furthermore, music is not episodic, order is unimportant, it’s about endlessly repeating certain tracks.

So the game just got harder. That’s right, the internet killed the CD cash cow and now even iTunes downloads, it made the history of recorded music free at your fingertips and you’re looking for some kind of justice, a way to turn back the hands of time, but that’s never gonna happen, that’d be like Commodore rereleasing the Amiga to great acclaim, knocking Apple off its perch, ain’t that a laugh.

But this really isn’t news. Everything I’ve said above has been in plain sight for nearly half a decade. So if you’re complaining, if you’ve been caught flat-footed, I feel sorry for you. You’re behind the times. In the information age you know nothing. You run your operation on your heart instead of your head.

Then again, if you put your heart in your music we might want to listen to it.

All we want is some truth. From someone who can write, sing and play.

Sounds simple, it’s not.