You’ve got to believe in yourself.

I’m gonna tell you one of my favorite Irving Azoff stories.

So I’m in the bowels of the Hollywood Bowl, talking to John Baruck, Irving’s old fraternity brother from Illinois. And I’m getting history, I love history, for the story alone, never mind what you learn.

So Irving goes to the west coast with Fogelberg, gets a gig with Jerry Heller and eventually moves over to Geffen Roberts, where he starts booking the Roxy.

Baruck stays home with REO Speedwagon.

Two years later, Irving calls Baruck, tells him in that voice that only Irving has, conspiratorial, sotto voce, with a hint of humor… “Pack your bags…WE CAN TAKE THIS TOWN!”

And there you have it. That’s why Irving can form his own performing rights organization and put the threat of the devil into Pandora, because he believes in himself.

I’m not talking about false bravado. I hear that every day. You recite who you know, where you went to school, accomplishments made out of cardboard, but then when you get on the diving board…

You back out.

The winners have confidence. They know they won’t always win.  They realize risk is part of the equation. But they realize we’re all human and all equal and someone has to take the lead and it might as well be them.

That’s another thing, if you want to set the world on fire you’re best off doing it yourself, if you want to move up in the organization you’re going about it the wrong way, that’s already someone else’s gig.

That’s one of the reasons the major labels are in trouble, none of them were founders. That’s right, the CEOs always worked for the man, how do you expect them to be nimble, how do you expect them to take great leaps forward? Whereas at least lifers, promoters who had their own money at risk, are still running the concert business. They know the bottom line. Sounds like a good idea, but WILL IT PAY OFF?

Confidence cannot be instilled by others. No one else can prop you up. It’s internal.

That’s right, so many of those fluffing up the external are weak internally, incredibly insecure. If someone is boasting, they’re usually losing.

Ever hang with the rich and famous, the powerful? The amazing thing is almost all of them play it down. They don’t talk business, they don’t talk their accomplishments.

Furthermore, they know it’s about relationships. Which is why if you ever meet someone further up the totem pole become friends first, talk family, movies, anything but business. Because they hear about business all day long from people a lot more powerful than you.

And if you think you know it all, believe me you don’t.

There’s a reason people are successful.

And it’s not only because they believe in themselves, but because they work the relationships and they’re a fun hang.

Don’t try to tell me how great you are, TELL YOURSELF HOW GREAT YOU ARE!

Karma’s a bitch.

They’re out to get him, but it’s Bill’s response that has me flummoxed.

Why does everybody in power double-down, why do they try and blow their attacker’s house down? It makes men look foolish, that they can’t admit that they are wrong, believing he with the biggest megaphone wins when it really just makes them look like a blowhard.

I don’t care whether Bill O’Reilly reported from a war zone or not.

But the truth is this guy is such a bully that people are afraid to contradict him. It’s kind of like Kanye. What do we hear when Kanye begins his shenanigans? Crickets. And when Bill O’Reilly twists the truth and trumpets insignificant, made-up canards like the War on Christmas? Not much.

Actually, we heard some blowback on the War on Christmas, but that’s just a sideshow to the big stuff, we tire of responding to him and then he gets away with so much.

But this is what the world has devolved into. One of gotcha and denial.

And this is not like the Obama birth certificate fracas. You don’t respond to trolls. And Bill O’Reilly could have ignored “Mother Jones.” But he chose not to. He chose to get on his high horse and contradict the truth, the footage and the other newsmen in attendance in Argentina.

I don’t want Bill O’Reilly to lose his job. I don’t think his offense is equal to Brian Williams’s. Then again, this is not the first time O’Reilly has bent the truth/lied. But I do want to point out that just because you’re famous and powerful you do not get a pass. Just because you can marshal flacks and TV power, you’re not entitled to have things go your way.

And what kind of bizarre world do we live in where celebrities get more leeway than politicians? The Governor of Oregon had to go, Kanye’s left unscathed.

Everybody’s afraid. It’s like the world has turned into high school. And the nerds did not inherit the earth. We’re all using their devices, but they’ve got no power over the organization, how things run. No nerd is Frank Underwood.

So, if you get in trouble, if you do something wrong, APOLOGIZE!

It won’t hurt your credibility, it will only increase it.

And if you think your attackers are only out to get you, to tear you down, because they’re jealous and want your job, IGNORE THEM! Defending yourself in this case doesn’t work, the trolls will just change focus.

So, Bill O’Reilly, you’re losing here. Fox is never going to fire you, you’re their cash cow. You could have said you stretched the truth, you could have said it was in the past, you could have ignored it.

But no, you had to be superior, you had to be invulnerable, and now you’re looking like a pussy who’s just waiting for the principal to step in. You’re like a football player or frat brother who vows to get even, scaring the pipsqueaks into sleeping with one eye open.

And one of the great things about leaving school is you leave the schoolyard behind. There’s real justice. You can’t punch someone in the face, you can’t do something illegal, we’re all safe, all protected by the rule of law.

But O’Reilly is an adolescent.

Why do we pay attention to him?

Because we’re tribal. We need an enemy to point out everything keeping us back. That’s right, if you just dismantled the government everything would be cool. And it’s Bill who’s standing up for the little guy.

WAKE UP!

Bill is only standing up for himself, he only cares about himself, he needs your adulation to survive. And if it’s threatened, if there’s a chink in the armor, his whole enterprise caves.

Once again, this is different from Brian Williams. Williams was an empty suit. Williams was a newsreader. Whereas Bill O’Reilly keeps telling us he’s standing up for the truth.

Ain’t that a laugh.

THE WILD ONE, FOREVER

Probably my favorite Petty cut.

Well the moon sank as the wind blew
And the street lights slowly died

This is the essence of music, setting the scene with just a few words, between the lyrics and the music, you get it.

Yeah they call you the wild one
Stay away from her
Said she couldn’t love no one if she tried

We know this type. With a certain charisma, an inner flame, that we want to get closer to, even if we’re gonna get burned.

And he goes on to say that he’s gonna have to make her his and he gets her but it’s the sound and the attitude and the coda that close you.

LUNA

From the first album too.

I’ve heard “The Wild One, Forever” on XM, but never this. This wasn’t made for the radio, this was made for the writer and players, for the listener, for late at night when there are no answers but plenty of questions. Back from when Tom was channeling his vision more than worrying about creating something the deejay would play.

And I hate that Tom has gotten crotchety. That he’s lost some perspective, never mind lacks a sense of humor. Can you come back after your peak? Interesting question. But Tom was torn in new directions by the Wilburys and Jeff Lynne, he’s surprised us before, maybe if he went and hung with the Nashville cats it would inspire him, bring back the greatness, haunt not only me but every one of us.

RESTLESS

It’s the staccato guitar.

He really sounds restless.

“You’re Gonna Get It” was the album that was supposed to break Tom Petty through.

It didn’t.

Here’s the story, the band was on Shelter Records distributed by ABC back when what label you were on mattered, when if you were on Polydor you might as well not put your record out, never mind RCA.

And there’s been all this talk about the label imploring him to change the word “cocaine” in “Listen To Her Heart” but the truth is Petty was always an outsider.

That’s right. He may have been wearing a leather jacket on the cover of his debut, but he and his band were not punks when that sound was all the rage.

Ironically, he was embraced in the U.K. And nearly a year after the first album came out he triumphed in America. No, that’s overstating it. Not with “American Girl,” that was not the track, it was “Breakdown,” a live iteration, with all the soul you can only get from something truly live.

And you could get up close and personal. I went to see the band at the Whisky. This was before you could play arenas on one hit.

And there was no show. Just music. Played well, with attitude. Memorably. To the point where everybody who was exposed believed Tom was ready.

But it turns out he was not.

He did not fit into the system. Which now wanted new wave. Back when it had to sound au courant when Petty was basic.

BABY’S A ROCK ‘N’ ROLLER

I was unsure whether to include this or “Hurt.”

The funny thing about the second album is it isn’t as good as the first, but it’s even more solid. The peaks might not be as high, but the lows are not as low.

This is reminiscent of the British Invasion, that sound, you could tell that Petty listened to the Beatles, as well as the buried treasure from overseas that he plays on his satellite show.

It’s innocent in a sixties way, but the band playing it was not. Twentysomething girls wanted to be that baby.

HURT

What the hell.

It is not made for radio, there’s not a full-fledged beginning, it’s more like a play with building entrances before everybody settles into the riff.

Thank God for California
Thank God I’m going home

This is the way it used to be, before plane tickets were cheap and long distance phone calls were free. California was a different state of mind, it was where you could be free.

It’s reminiscent of the Byrds, of the sixties L.A. scene, without being derivative, if someone cut something this good today it would be exalted as genius, trumpeted in every publication known to man, but this track from ’78 was almost completely unknown then, and still is today.

HERE COMES MY GIRL

From “Damn The Torpedoes.”

I know, I know, it’s hard to say anything on the third, breakthrough LP is an album cut. It’s kind of like “Led Zeppelin II,” a constant everybody knows from beginning to end.

But even though “Here Comes My Girl” was the record’s third single, it only went to number 59, which is nowhere.

And there are so many magic moments, but what seals the deal is when the track drops at 2:12 and Petty utters “watch her walk”…whew!

A WOMAN IN LOVE (IT’S NOT ME)

The beginning of the initial decline, before the spontaneous renaissance with “Don’t Come Around Here No More” off “Southern Accents” in ’85.

That’s right, it’s hard to follow up gargantuan success. And Petty did it with an album of some genius and some tracks with less than that and no hits.

Well, “The Waiting” got FM airplay, but it wasn’t ubiquitous in the way “Refugee” was, and from there…

But this is pure genius. The track I played after calling my old girlfriend to reconnect and found her in bed with someone else.

SOMETHING BIG

Sounds like a short story.

With a groove that has you nodding your head almost instantly.

And changes absent from so many of today’s hits.

And we all know losers working on something big, we see them on “Shark Tank,” I’ve often wondered if I’m one of them.

STOP DRAGGIN’ MY HEART AROUND

Wherein Tom Petty gives away his best track to the biggest female star of the day, the same way his east coast compatriot Bruce Springsteen gave Patti Smith “Because The Night.” They both went on to have further gargantuan successes, but at this point both could have utilized the triumph.

And at this point Tom’s version with the Heartbreakers has seen the light of day, it would have been a hit by itself.

But at least Tom’s duetting with Stevie Nicks on her track.

And Stevie pushes it over the top, she’s the consummate rock chick, she sheds the sensitive witch persona and wails with nuance, it’s so endearing.

But who is this guy who’s sneering his words? Who is this guy who’s so genuine.

That’s Tom Petty!

Maybe this was a good thing, this exposed a whole new audience to the man and his band, which played on the track.

Then again, most people knew who they were anyway.

We all get our heart dragged around, it happens to everybody, if you play.

And then you sit at home and spin this track, the antithesis of cry in your beer sentimentality, and you know you feel bad now but you’re gonna RECOVER!

STRAIGHT INTO DARKNESS

There was a little girl I used to know her
I still think about her time to time

Ain’t that the truth, we never forget ’em, they haunt us forever, we wonder if we reconnected…would we reconnect?

The truth is no. They’ve changed. We’re different. It was a moment in time.

And at this point it looked like Tom Petty’s success was a moment in time. That if not a footnote, he and his band of merrymakers were far from legends, Tom was not a rock and roll icon.

And then came “Southern Accents,” the Wilburys and “Free Fallin.” Wow!

But “Long After Dark” was a step in the wrong direction. It sounded like Petty, but it didn’t have the peaks, the tracks just needed an extra 2%, the amount that makes the difference, that puts the cuts over the top.

And stunningly, Tom had further success when he switched up the formula. “Don’t Come Around Here No More” sounded nothing like what came before, nor did all those great cuts that followed “Free Fallin,” on Tom’s solo debut.

And the funny thing is Tom cemented his success when he was a full-blooded Californian, singing about someone else, kids in the Valley.

That’s right, the landscape changes you.

And change is good.

Here’s hoping Tom Petty mesmerizes ALL of us once again.

Rhinofy-Tom Petty-Early Album Cuts

He died suddenly.

So I’m sitting on a couch in the late afternoon contemplating the Pacific Ocean. It’s gonna be here whether I am or not. Feeling insignificant, I wondered what life was about.

Inside the movers and shakers were jockeying for position. Believing if they just climbed the totem pole higher they’d be happier, their lives would work, as if any of us are important, as if any of us will be remembered, as if anything we do amounts to a hill of beans.

Peter Burns was a plumber. And a handyman. He was married with two girls and he loved prog rock. He could fix anything and took his work seriously. His was a regular presence at Felice’s house. He had his own key. He was like Eldin on “Murphy Brown” but with a different personality.

He was 51.

You don’t plan on dying when you’re 51. As a matter of fact, you don’t plan on dying at all. Unless you’re sick. That’s what the healthy don’t understand, that the sickness beats you down, you cave, you make your peace, you’re willing to go when everybody says to keep a good attitude and continue to fight. That’s all hogwash. Kind of like the big guy in the sky and the afterlife. When it’s done it’s done.

And you don’t know all this until you reach a certain age, when all the cliches come true, when everything your father said plays through your head and you just wish he was still around so you could tell him so, and bond over being his son.

So, it’s true, no one was ever on their deathbed lamenting they didn’t spend more time at work.

And if you don’t do it now, there’s a good chance you won’t ever.

Life is about experiences. And you don’t have to leave home to have some of the best of them. And perspective and attitude are key. But there are so many things we put off into the future, and then it’s too late.

I don’t miss having kids, it’s not the biggest mistake of my life, but from this perch I know they’re key, they center your life, they give it meaning, we’re all just animals here to reproduce.

And I know your money won’t keep you warm at night and you can’t take it with you but it will take you places. For twenty years I’ve been saying I want to go to Glacier National Park before the glaciers melt and I still haven’t been. I’ve got a hankering to go to Monument Valley, but still haven’t checked that box, never mind Death Valley, which is so much closer.

I want to know when I go. I don’t want to die in my sleep. I want to see it coming. I want final resolution in my head… So this was it. This was my life.

But I don’t expect it to happen suddenly, unexpectedly.

My body still aches from that car accident. And it’s a hassle getting my car fixed. But for the first time ever the cliche went through my head, “it could be worse.”

It could. But the money and aggravation triumph. We hate the hassle. And we don’t know anybody with bad luck.

And then we do.

Life is both solid and fragile. It’s amazing how much you can abuse yourself and still live, and how you can die so easily when you least expect it.

And the finality is haunting, creepy.

The truth is you live on in our hearts, we never forget you, but you’re not here, you’re missing out.

My dad never experienced the internet, never mind wireless mobile phones.

Then again, technology makes our lives easier, but it doesn’t make a life.

So I guess I’m gonna be like my dad, like every dad, and tell you not to postpone, that you should eat up life because you’re here for such a short time.

And it can end at any moment.

Like it did for Peter Burns.

We’ll miss you Peter. I’ll never wake up to see your white van outside. You literally can’t be replaced. There’s a hole where you used to be, not only for me and Felice but for so many more. You impacted us, you were there for us, and you weren’t famous.

But famous is just a condition. We’re all just humans walking the planet. Equal. Maybe less in income, but not in outlook and feelings.

And the truth is life makes no sense. You do your best to organize it, to make it linear, believing achievement is everything, but the best laid plans are thwarted. I now know everything is temporary, you make a map of the future but it can get torn up in an instant.

So I’m driving on the 10, to the gas station, worried about the cops and the construction, feeling anxious, and the phone rings.

I never expected to hear Peter Burns died, long before his time.

And now I’m in shock. Kinda stoned. Off-kilter. Knowing that this feeling won’t last forever, but it’s gonna come again. We’re all in a game of musical chairs, and one time the music will stop and I’ll have nowhere to sit and I too will be gone.

It’s the way of the universe.

But it still don’t make sense.