A businessman plays by the rules, an artist breaks them.

A businessman puts money first, an artist sees money as a byproduct.

A businessman has a plan, an artist flies by the seat of his pants.

A businessman is looking to sell out, an artist is looking to continue, forever.

A businessman is all about domination, an artist does not believe in competition.

An artist believes in inspiration, a businessman believes in calculation.

A businessman is a team player, an artist is an individual, a party of one.

An employee of the label is a businessman, an artist is not an employee, just check the paperwork, you’re an “independent contractor,” self-directed with no input from the company other than broad outlines, if this is not so, change your behavior or ask for health insurance and tax withholding.

Today, techies are artists and artists are businessmen. Techies try to surprise the public with that which they’re unaware they need and artists are giving them just what they expect.

Artists have skin in the game, the best businessmen do, but almost no one in the music business does anymore… We live in an era of corporatization, if it’s not your money to lose, you’re not going to stay up all night willing success.

Artists lead, business people follow.

Artists make people uncomfortable, businessmen seek to coddle.

Artists are cool, businessmen are not.

Artists challenge convention, businessmen seek to establish conventions.

Artists are independent, beholden to no one and can always say no, businessmen work for the man, execs come and go but the corporation remains.

The best businessmen are artists, but very few deserve the moniker. The worst, and sometimes most financially successful artists are businessmen.

They call it “show business,” but it’s nothing without art.

Artists shoot for the stars, risking it all in the process. Businessmen play it safe.

Artists are about the essence, businessmen are about the trappings.

Mediocre but cheap works in business, but never in art.

Cheap, fast and good…pick two. In both business and art.

Artists don’t confuse marketing with music, they realize that sponsorships and perfume are not the product, but ancillary thereto. Businessmen think of only how they can monetize the product.

Artists say no, businessmen say yes.

We are in an era where being an artist has been confused with being a businessman. The music world took a hit when Jay Z said he was a business, and if you consider yourself a brand you’re on the wrong track. Artists are always reinventing themselves, always risking the approval of both audience and gatekeepers. Playing it safe is anathema to an artist, it’s godhead to a businessman.

An artist takes responsibility, a businessman says his hands are tied and it’s not his fault.

A businessman lies, an artist tells the truth, all the time.

An artist runs on instinct and is not always sure, a businessman runs by spreadsheet and makes no move unless he’s confident.

An artist is tortured, a businessman tortures.

A businessman is about protection, an artist is about destruction.

An artist challenges, a businessman respects.

A businessman is all about hierarchy, the chain of command, the artist sees the world as flat, with the ability to move amongst all peoples, from the CEO to the homeless person.

An artist can reach everybody, a businessman just wants to reach enough people to make his numbers.

A businessman stops when he runs out of money, an artist never stops.

An artist relies on his mind, a businessman relies on his status and machinery.

A businessman takes advantage, an artist is always neutral, at arm’s length from his customer, purveying but never strong-arming.

An artist runs on feel, a businessman runs on intellect.

A businessman believes in resume, an artist’s body of work is his resume.

A businessman is on LinkedIn, artists see no need to be on the site.

Businessmen are confident, artists are insecure.

Businessmen prey on artists, artists prey on people’s souls.

Artists demand excellence, businessmen believe in good enough.

Today’s best businessmen are artists and few successful artists are anything but businessmen. Businessmen take risks and are beholden to nobody, wearing their everyday clothes at formal functions and artists are painting by numbers, constricted by their handlers, and eager to dress up to impress.

Artists know what’s inside counts, businessmen believe in appearances.

Businessmen are conniving, manipulation and underhanded activity never made a hit record.

Businessmen judge success by money, artists judge success by cultural impact.

Business is here today and gone tomorrow, Steve Jobs will soon be forgotten, whereas art is forever. We know who painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but we don’t know who was Pope. We can sing Beatle songs, but we threw away our Walkman long ago.

Art takes practice, businessmen learn on the job.

Lose your job in business and you can find another, screw up in art and your career might be over.

Brands are hollow shells, bands are living organisms which must be nurtured and protected.

Don’t block my way as I’m climbing the greased pole.

Did you read the story about Wendi Deng in “Vanity Fair”? Wherein it states that Rupert Murdoch divorced her because she slept with Tony Blair and Eric Schmidt?

You know Tony, the titan with the six-pack. But Schmidt? The goofy guy with the bad complexion who sits atop Google?

Money, power…they’re much more important than fame.

Yes, while the minions salivate over Miley Cyrus, those who pull the strings are barely paying attention, as they gallivant in private jets making money and deals and living a life much more interesting than yours. Then again, to read how Rupert spent precious time on his wife’s business shenanigans makes your jaw drop. Meanwhile, after being fired by Rupert Wendi does well in Silicon Valley investments. She’s no Hollywood trophy wife whose beauty is only skin deep. Yes, a beautiful bod and striking punim will put you on the arm of a movie star, but be prepared to get the old heave-ho when your looks fade.

So Wendi, not her real name, she changed it, she westernized it, goes from $50 a month factory father’s daughter to medical school to snaring the husband of an ex-pat to getting another man to pay for a Yale MBA to getting a job at Star TV in Asia to nabbing Rupert.

Naked ambition. And smarts.

Talk to anybody in the music business. They’ve been stepped on. It’s a fascinating experience, watching someone cunning be nice and friendly and then use and abuse you. Not that everybody climbs the greased pole to the top, but there’s a certain breed that’s determined…

Like Francis in “House of Cards.” He needs it. He’s willing to sacrifice children, the normality of family life, for his political ambitions.

Not that Wendi Deng was a nitwit. Her father had her reading next year’s textbooks over the summer. She dropped out of medical school. These people chew nails and spit them out with impunity. They’re determined.

And you don’t have to be like them, you can ponder if they’re truly happy, but you don’t make it from the backwoods to the pinnacle by accident.

They say politics is show business for ugly people.

And show business is fodder for the masses.

But when done right, art illuminates life.

I’d like to say this year’s edition of “House of Cards” is as good as last’s. But there are too many plot twists, not all of them believable. Still, they’re shooting high and the resulting drama is intoxicating.

We’re in a golden age of television.

Once upon a time we were in a golden age of music.

The golden age of television was ushered in by “The Sopranos.” Something so good, people could not stop talking about it. Sure, there were series on HBO previously, but nothing of this quality. “The Sopranos” was TV’s Beatles. Meanwhile, we’re still waiting for a new Beatles in music, something that makes everybody pay attention.

But we shoot low in music. We focus on money. The barrier to entry is so low that the great unwashed believe they deserve a shot. Justin Timberlake and Beyonce and Miley Cyrus may have hit records, but try and convince someone who is not normally interested, it’s impossible.

That’s our problem.

There was Adele… But we used to have many Adeles, of different stripes and colors. Back when people knew how to write and play and had something to say.

So now, despite all the hosannas from those in the business, all the testifying from individual fans, the great American sport is watching television, where’s there’s a cornucopia of stuff thrilling the public. More people have told me about “True Detective” than any new band. Surf Netflix and you’ll find documentaries like “Chasing Ice,” that don’t worry about the market share, just getting it right.

Meanwhile, Reed Hastings single-handedly moved the entire nation to streaming. Oh, the public, they HATED IT! Wall Street excoriated the company. But despite some initial wavering, Hastings stayed the course, he led, he was right. DVDs are deader than CDs. The poor man’s viewing choice. But instead of embracing streaming, the music business still wants you to buy the physical product.

As for the album… We’re hooked on these series because they tell a story. There’s no story on your album, never mind inconsistent quality at best. I just hear you second-guessing the audience, not striving to lead it.

So it’s everybody for himself.

Always has been.

Want to hang with movie stars?

Want to fly private?

It’s your ball. And the best way to get there is to be an entrepreneur. If you’re thinking about someone giving you a job, you’re headed straight for middle management.

And know unless you’re feverishly climbing the ladder…

You’ll be pushed aside by those who are.

Read Wendi Deng Murdoch’s Mash Note About Tony Blair: “He Has Such Good Body”

And then there are the songs you hate when they’re hits…

That you absolutely LOVE decades later.

Like Roger Miller’s “King Of The Road.”

We already knew him from “Dang Me,” which seemed like an extension of the Down Under hit “Tie Me Kangaroo Down,” we knew he was someone in the country world, but could he keep his near-novelty tracks off our Top Forty stations?

By this time, the British Invasion was in full swing, we wanted only our hits on the radio, not the hangovers and hang-ons of the squares. And when one of these left field hits appeared, they seemed to last forever. We endured them to the point where we knew every lick. They’re burned into our brain beyond the people we went to school with. Faces fade away, songs sustain.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, I hear “King Of The Road” on Sirius and…IT’S A REVELATION!

The finger snapping intro is no longer hokey, but hip. Beatnikesque.

And then…

Trailer for sale or rent
Rooms to let fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes

FREEDOM!

That’s all we had as kids. We were desirous of possessions, we begged our parents for them. But then you get older and you become tied down by obligations you don’t even realize are bonding you to terra firma. The world gets bigger, but your life is smaller, the same damn people in the same damn town and then…

There’s this guy singing about going it alone, following his muse and…

There’s so little on the record. It sounds like a peek into a guy’s life. Like he’s singing it alone in his pine board walled motel room and is completely thrilled and entertained and so are we as the mic picks up his private world.

That’s one thing music does so well…haunting.

All these years later, it’s like there’s a real guy… And as opposed to the modern songs with all their platitudes, the picture is fully fleshed out, it seems completely real.

And that’s one great thing about records, they’re permanent. They don’t change. But we do, and suddenly meaning is unlocked that we couldn’t even perceive when they were hits.

Ah, but two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys a eight by twelve four bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road

The American Dream. You hit the highway, fancy free, and discover who you truly are. He may be poor in bank account, but he’s rich in experience.

And so are we, the listeners.

Rhinofy-King Of The Road

What kind of crazy fucked up world do we live in where the head of a nonprofit makes $44.2 million a year?

One in which a VC states that only those who pay taxes get to vote, and he who pays more gets more votes!

Huh?

I grew up in a middle class suburb. A melting pot with both a wannabe upper middle class and kids living in projects, there was always enough paper for the mimeo machine and pencils for the little kids.

But no more, just like in America at large, it’s everybody for himself in the school system. Bring your own stuff or else go private. And those who go private want to starve the beast of the public system, because god forbid you pay for something that does not go straight to your bottom line.

And I was for the Vietnam war. The government was to be trusted, they always had it right, right?

Until in the midsixties the artists took a stand, the people who I listened to said the war was unjust and we had to protest against it.

That’s how powerful art is.

But the power of said art has been abdicated.

Bono may be trying to save the world, but he’s not paying any taxes, he moved his operation out of Ireland, he’s as scummy as the people he hangs with at the World Economic Forum.

And Jay Z thinks he wins when he extracts $5 million from Samsung. That’s like asking your dad for a quarter… Sure! Especially if you tell everybody I gave it to you!

Meanwhile, hedge funders pay taxes at capital gains rates and working stiffs get charged at full pop.

And if you think people pay no taxes…you’re unaware of sales taxes, never mind payroll and unemployment and a plethora of other stuff that isn’t declared on April 15th.

How did our country get so screwed up?

I’m not saying nobody should be rich, I’m just saying nobody gets rich in a vacuum, and enough is enough. At this point, the rich are competing against themselves for trophy properties. It doesn’t make any difference if the apartment is $25 or $50 million, the hoi polloi can’t afford it, impose greater taxes and what’s the worst that can happen, the price comes down to $15 or $40 million?

And whenever you bring up the inequality, entitled barons like Tom Perkins go on about disincentives and earning their keep. And I say if you can make a fortune without any customers, keep it all. But the truth is we’re buying your products and we can’t afford them.

Did you read that “New York Times” article wherein it was stated that businesses catering to the rich are booming and those catering to the middle class are faltering, going out of business? Read it, it’s an eye-opener:

“The Middle Class Is Steadily Eroding. Just As the Business World.”

And speaking of disincentives… I find it hard not to give up. Because I had the middle class advantages, I went to a good public school, my father paid the 4k per year it cost to go to an elite educational institution in the seventies. I thought it was a level playing field.

But it’s not.

And here’s the truth…

Most of the public is ignorant. They’re either happy wallowing in shit, satisfied with their flat screens and smartphones, or they delusionally believe they too are going to be rich, so there should be low taxes, even though that lottery they’re counting on taxes every dollar.

And then there’s the so-called middle class. Who realize the game is stacked against them and believe they must throw in with the rich to survive. Even worse are the sycophants who want a ride on the private plane, who are bossed around by those with money, pure lackeys, thrilled to consume the crumbs of those who believe they are “special.”

And then there are the artists.

That’s my power. I can write this crap. And if it rings true, you can spread the word. That’s how I got to where I am, and it’s far from nowhere, purely on my writing. I didn’t buy a fan base, I earned it.

But whatever power I have pales in comparison to that of musical artists. They’re the most powerful people in the world. They have bigger followings than the President!

But they refuse to step up. Neither in words nor actions.

The wannabes and middle class bitch. Saying they’re being ripped off by Spotify. It’s poor on poor crime. You’re not being beaten by streaming services, you’re being beaten by your customers, who refuse to overpay for dreck and would rather just stream on YouTube.

So, to attack said customers/fans, the rich scalp their own tickets and the middle class and poor refuse to go to all-in ticketing, perpetuating the fiction that the Ticketmaster fees go straight to Live Nation’s bottom line.

And the public can’t believe the acts are at fault, because if they don’t believe in the acts, who can they trust?

And the rich and powerful are laughing all the while, because the unwashed have no clue what the game is, never mind how it’s played.

How about writing from the heart? How about writing about what you feel as opposed to what you can buy? How about acts lobbying for paperless ticketing so the fans that keep them alive can sit in the good seats as opposed to the rich scenesters who only want to say they were there?

Yes, we’re the problem.

We refuse to educate ourselves. We refuse to stand up for what’s right. We don’t want to speak truth to power, we just want to participate in some of the droppings that go astray.

I don’t know about you, but I’m mad as hell.

Once upon a time the artists ran this business, they were as rich and powerful as anybody in America.

Then bozos like Clive Davis and self-important manipulators like Tommy Mottola believed they were bigger than the artists, and paid themselves accordingly, making more money in a year than many artists did in a lifetime, purveying dreck all the while.

And then when the money dried up at the turn of the century, the industry middle class was squeezed out, only high earners and overworked low earners remained. Yes, the music business is just like the rest of America, a bastion of inequality.

And now we’ve got a whole generation of music makers who have no idea the way it used to be. When you delivered your album to the label and they had to release it unchanged. Before looking pretty and singing high and powerful were the defining characteristics of stardom.

How the hell am I going to compete with someone who makes $44.2 million in a year? Certainly not on cash. My only hope is to make them uneasy via writing. Our only hope is for the artists to lead us out of the wilderness.

But today’s artists are a reflection of society, ignorant and greedy, steered by the moneyed class without realizing it.

Is a revolution imminent?

I certainly hope so. At least a little redress.

Is there anybody in America who cares about anybody else?

Oh, that’s right, the poor, they’re big on charity, it’s the rich who are tightfisted.

But until we all say this is unfair, this is not right, something’s got to change, everybody’s entitled to a roof over their head, food on their plate and an equal opportunity to get ahead, we’re screwed.

“Goodell’s Pay In 2012 Puts Him In Big Leagues”

“Tom Perkins’ big idea: The rich should get more votes”