Hi Bob,

Music ‘big business’ is slowly looking-sounding-smelling-feeling as appealing as Wall Street and/or the Vatican. (Maybe less smart and less “touchy-feely”)

My dilemma: I want people to stream my music all day long (to their hearts content); but, I’m tired of watching the Daniel Ek’s and the Mark Westerthefuck’s buy new monstertruckairplanes and diamond studded ethnic babies.(tis the sheer principle of the matter)

It’s not the money I make the art for, OR the other way around. I make art for the love of art and for the pleasure of creating something myself the only way I know how.

We have been tempted to pull THE USED material from all platforms but our own; €”but what does this accomplish? (“Until they became conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious. a la €”1984) Without the artist there is no business of art; yet, so many willing to play (play dead, maybe) that if you don’t, you’re trampled.

In all probability, it will be the artists who end up make it fair for the artists again somehow… but how?  I value your opinion (most of the time), so some input would be great!

Love, Bert

I’m in shock.

So I finish writing, close the Microsoft Word window, and what pops up but Tweetdeck.

The celebs’ favorite, Kelly Oxford, is tweeting about Gandolfini and the ducks and it seems a bit out of nowhere, but that’s where most of her tweets emanate from. Then I scan up my feed and I realize.

HE’S DEAD!

No, it didn’t quite happen that way, it was kinda like December 8, 1980, when I was demonstrating my new car stereo to my buddy and every station was playing the Beatles. It starts to sink in. Something out of the ordinary is occurring. Maybe Gandolfini’s gotten into a car accident, but I go to Google and that’s when it’s clear…

He’s gone. At 51.

All of a sudden I’m overcome by a feelin’ of brief mortality
‘Cause I’m gettin’ on in the world
Comin’ up on forty one years

Forty one stony gray steps towards the grave
You know, the box, awaits its grisly load
Now I’m gonna be food for worms

I don’t know why I played A3’s album, known as Alabama 3 in the U.K., but anybody who did, and there weren’t many of us, was immediately struck by “Woke Up This Morning.” And when I heard it at the beginning of “The Sopranos”… It’s the one intro I never fast-forwarded through, it was a prelude to my Sunday night ritual.

I was hip to James Gandolfini previously. He was unforgettable in “True Romance” and “Get Shorty,” but at this point the only great cable television program was “Larry Sanders,” we were not prepared for “The Sopranos.”

I stumbled upon it in the middle of the night, waking up when I was sick, I was immediately hooked, I recorded it from the beginning and watched, and proceeded to tell everybody I knew about it.

Sure, there’d been reviews previously, which I’d ignored, everything spreads by trusted word of mouth these days.

And the breakthrough episode was Meadow checking out colleges, when Tony stumbles upon an old Mafioso in the witness protection program in Maine, and…kills him with his bare hands.

And then there was that episode where Meadow was punished by…having her Discover card taken away for three weeks, and she told her friend on the phone that she had her parents wrapped around her finger.

That’s why “The Sopranos” was so damn good, it was so real, the nuances of modern life.

But now he’s gone.

And people die every day. Literally. But I’ve never seen such an outpouring of sympathy and grief, it’s like when Princess Diana died, but Gandolfini was just an actor.

In the best damn television show ever made.

Ask people who their Representative is, who ran for VP and lost last fall, they’ll be flummoxed. But they all know Tony Soprano. That’s art. When done right its cultural impact is limitless. Life is drudgery, art makes living worthwhile.

Oh, David Chase deserves a ton of credit. But without Gandolfini, the show wouldn’t work.

So long, John Coltrane and Charles Mingus
So long, Duke Ellington and Lester Young
So long, Billie Holliday and Ella Fitzgerald
So long, Jimmy Reed
So long, Muddy Waters
And so long, Howlin’ Wolf

So long, James Gandolfini!

Like the Beatles, there was never a reunion. There was the peak, six seasons, and POOF!, it was done.

But you live on, not only in our hearts and our memories, but on the screen.

That’s the power of excellence, that’s the power of performance.

My only regret is that you’re not here to experience it.

No one knows who will be remembered. You just take your chances and do the work. You can’t worry about your legacy, you can just try to get it right. And when you do, we know, because we’re watching.

And it’s so damn rare.

“Woke Up This Morning”

“The Sopranos Opening Theme”

“True Romance”

“Get Shorty”

I’m not sure music is the same if you’re popular, if you’ve got a million friends, if your phone is ringing, if it’s overflowing with texts. Then it’s sauce. Whereas if you spend more time in your room than at the malt shop, at the skating rink, music is EVERYTHING!

And unlike so much else…sex, intimacy, conversation…it’s easily acquired. You can just turn on the radio, you can dig deeper, read magazines, surf online, you can own it.

That’s what you do when you hear a track that raises your eyebrows, stops you in your tracks, you dig for more. And in the old days, the best way to do this was to buy the album. You broke the shrinkwrap, dropped the needle and…waited.

That’s what I did with Bruno Mars’s latest album, “Unorthodox Jukebox,” only in this case I didn’t have to buy it, I just pulled it up in Spotify. After hearing “When I Was Your Man.”

And the opener, “Young Girls,” was o.k. The follow-up, “Locked Out Of Heaven,” the Police-style track…well, it’s not bad, but it’s too reminiscent of what once was without being special enough on its own terms.

And then came “Gorilla”… This is what made me want to continue to listen.

You see you hear one great track and you want to hear more.

No, it’s different from that, you have your fingers crossed. Kind of like asking a girl if she wants to go on a date and waiting for the response. You hope for your life to be changed, but you know just as easily you could hit a dead end.

But if you’ve had good conversations before class… If she smiled and tossed her hair…then you know, you’ve got a chance.

That’s what “Gorilla” was…a chance. I knew Bruno Mars had something.

And then I heard “Moonshine.”

I’m gonna be out of town when Bruno Mars hits L.A., but I’d go just for this one song. I wanna be the guy in the audience who stands on his feet and sings along with his head in the air, not even looking at the performer, having a transcendent experience.

Yes, I’m that guy. Not the one blocking your view, I’m not gonna stay up if everybody else is sitting… No, I’m the guy who’s there but not a member of the group, but in his own private reverie, connecting with the act, the music, having his life made on the spot.

Let’s go back to “Gorilla”…

The verse is good, the feel, the ultimate intensity, but what truly makes the track is the chorus…

You and me making love like gorillas

It sounds like it comes off of Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust,” or the Beatles’ “Hey Jude.” You just want to put your arms in the air, wave them back and forth and sing along.

This is a rock anthem. From a guy so busy jumping genres and getting plaudits for it that he’s avoided settling into his own groove, finding out who he truly is.

Yes, “Unorthodox Jukebox” is only Bruno Mars’s second album. In the old days, he’d just be warming up, he probably wouldn’t even have a big hit yet. But today’s starmaking machinery needs fodder, as does the media, it needs something, someone, to champion, and Bruno Mars gets kudos for imitating others on SNL and what we really want to know is…who is he?

And speaking of who he is… Maybe he’s not a Top Forty wunderkind, but a classic rocker. When “Gorilla” fades, we want more. It changes, it’s more Porcupine Tree than Rihanna…where would he go from here? In the old days there’d be minutes of instrumental experimentation, but now all we get is the…end.

And then “Treasure,” which is more R&B than rock, and decent, but too much made for radio as opposed to testing limits.

And then comes “Moonshine.”

What other song do I know with “Moonshine” in the title?

“Sister Moonshine,” by Supertramp! And this new “Moonshine” is similar, because just like Supertramp’s oeuvre, Bruno Mars’s “Moonshine” is not made to fit into any genre, but stands completely alone…which causes us to be drawn to it.

Oh, I know online they say it’s akin to Michael Jackson. But listen to the chorus…it’s the anti-Michael Jackson!

Especially as his career wore on, Michael Jackson was about showing off, putting in vocal exclamations, imploring us to pay attention, whereas the chorus of “Moonshine” is a step back, it’s more Jefferson Airplane than Michael Jackson.

And the bridge… It starts Michael Jacksony, but in the middle it’s once again more rock than R&B.

Oh, forget all that.

Are you a winner? An upbeat world-beater who feels entitled to success?

Then stop reading this right now. Really. Hit delete and go on with your victorious life.

But if you’ve got more questions than answers, if good is not good enough for you, if you’re constantly searching for greatness, if your life is made by excellence and you feel no one’s paying attention to you…welcome aboard.

We can put on a happy face, we can get along with those at work, at school, but what we really want to do is let go, be ourselves and be accepted.

Good luck with that. I don’t have the answers. I’m working on them, I’ll get back to you if I ever figure it out. But in the interim, I put on my records and I feel like everything’s all right with the world, that I can survive. And the feeling is so exquisite, I listen to my favorites over and over again. They’re my drug, better than anything I’ve ever smoked or ingested. Hell, dope did not make my favorites better, but worse. Because, when done right, music is enough.

Okay, are you still here?

If you’re the kind of person who needs to revel in your taste, put others down for what they listen to, it’s your time to exit. We’re fragile enough, I’m fragile enough, I don’t need you to make me feel worse. Yup, unlike you, I’m susceptible to criticism, the first thing I do is evaluate myself, I’m convinced I’m wrong, when the truth is you are. Today they call it bullying, I’ll just call it self-satisfied insecurity, you need others to feel worse about themselves so you can feel better.

Okay, that just leaves us. In our own private worlds. Once upon a time completely isolated, but through the magic of the Internet, now able to connect. And that’s what I’m gonna do right now, connect you to this track, “Moonshine.”

Moonshine, take us to the stars tonight
Take us to that special place
That place we went the last time, the last time

You know that place? When you listened to your favorite record and were so happy you wanted to open your windows and scream, needed to go to the gig just to hear this album track you were sure no one else knew…

WELCOME HOME!

Spotify playlist

“Moonshine”-YouTube

“Gorilla”-YouTube

I spent last night listening to the Spotify Top 100.

Well, most of it anyway.

You learn some amazing things, like most rap lyrics are so aspirational and so dumb that unless you buy in, cast all critical faculties aside, you listen and you laugh.

I woke up in a new Bugatti

Do you even know what a Bugatti is?

I’ll tell you. It’s a high profile marque owned by VW that costs $2.5 million. Maybe Ace Hood is hoping they’ll send him one, after he raps about it. Or maybe they’re paying him to spread the word on their halo product, so his audience will end up buying Jettas and Golfs, who knows!

Then there are tracks about bitches and ho’s and making it from the bottom to the top and you have to ask yourself who listens to this stuff.

I’ll tell you. Kids who want to belong.

That’s what’s been left out of the discussion of the Internet revolution, the human element.

We have wankers like Chris Anderson spreading the fiction of the long tail.

We’ve got hucksters like Tim Westergren providing tuneouts all the while saying he’s helping indie artists make money as he lobbies to pay them less.

We’ve even got MOG/Daisy curating playlists.

But what I want is to feel a member of the group, to belong, to know I don’t live in a Tower of Babel where nobody speaks my language.

That’s why the ratings of live events, especially awards shows, have skyrocketed. It’s not that they’re any better than ever, it’s not like we like them, but we do enjoy watching them and commenting about them on social media. It makes us feel…connected.

That’s the ace in the hole of terrestrial radio. It’s got the most ears. And everybody challenging terrestrial radio has got it wrong, they believe it’s about niches, when truly it’s about mass.

In other words, kids listen to terrestrial radio because other kids do.

But terrestrial radio is not beholden to the kids, but its advertisers. Therefore, few risks are taken. It’s not about breaking new music, it’s about keeping people listening, and that’s not the same thing.

Which is why you can tune into terrestrial and not get it. Everything sounds like it used to. It’s not only Top Forty, with drum machines from the eighties, but Active Rock. It’s an endless recycling of what was.

And the techies are no better. Because they’re all about the data. And to quote the aphorism, research will tell you where you’ve been, but it won’t tell you where you’re going.

In other words, the Spotify Top 100 will tell me what people are listening to, but not what’s good, what could gain mass if only exposed.

But no one is pursuing this paradigm.

The techies believe in algorithms. And if you think an algorithm works in creative areas, you buy everything you purchase via Amazon recommendations. Huh? I ignore them!

As for the musos, they don’t understand the game of music recommendation.

To curate today, you need all winners.

And these winners must not only appeal to you, but a vast audience.

Used to be different. With limited distribution, if you got on radio, you had a chance. Today, with everything available, the public is flummoxed, and the young people listen to Top Forty, the old people listen to classic rock and the acts keep complaining they can’t make it.

I get it.

But in order to change the game, one must first focus on mass.

And mass doesn’t always equate with hip.

Oh, so you know all the hip acts, you even know their good tracks.

But I’m gonna put it to you straight, the Dirty Projectors are never going mainstream, never gonna happen. That doesn’t mean you can’t like them, just that most people never will.

But most people will like much more than the Spotify Top 100.

But the problem is…there’s not enough money in human music curation. That’s the dirty little secret, economics. That’s what’s screwing up our whole damn country. Not only can you not get rich pursuing your creative dream, you can’t pay your rent.

So we’ve got no development.

Then again, breakthroughs always begin with dreams, money is secondary, if you’re willing to work forever for peanuts, your time sometimes comes.

So what we need is new gatekeepers, new curators, not dozens, but fewer than five, who gain mass introducing the public to new music. Expanding their horizons, breaking acts.

But I see no effort in sight.

I see millions of playlists by people who want to be hip.

I see no rhyme or reason in the reviews on Pitchfork.

There’s nowhere I can go and listen to ten tracks and like eight or nine.

And I’m not the only one.

P.S. The best thing I heard in the Spotify Top 100, other than Daft Punk, is Bruno Mars’s “When I Was Your Man.” It’s got the haunting feel of Elton John’s American debut and a good change but…mediocre lyrics. It’s good, but not quite good enough. If only he were pushed a bit further, he’d be closer to Adele, who’s the biggest seller of the past couple of years, whose music sold itself.

P.P.S. Chris Brown… You may hate him, but listen to his music and you’ll see it’s better than most of his contemporaries’. That doesn’t mean you’re gonna want to listen to it in the future, but that’s why despite all the Rihanna b.s., he still has a career.

P.P.P.S. Fall Out Boy may have come back, but unless you’re a fan, you’ll click to skip “My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up).” That’s the problem in a nutshell, we can click to skip, you’ve got to make music that keeps us stuck.

P.P.P.P.S. Ellie Goulding’s “Anything Can Happen” is a trifle that doesn’t quite clear the bar, but if you continue to listen to it you get into it. But if you read the hype and checked her out you’d say to yourself…huh?

P.P.P.P.P.S. Fun. is like Bruno Mars, only not as good. You’re relieved when they come on your iPhone, but then you continue to listen and say…this is good, but not great, and we’ve only got time today for great.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Check out Calvin Harris’s “Sweet Nothing,” featuring Florence Welch. If you say you hate EDM, after listening to this you’ll say you don’t. It sounds a bit like an NBA anthem, but it’s refreshing compared to the dated hip-hop.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. This is how bad things are… Ke$ha’s positively stupid “Die Young” sounds good. There’s nothing new here, which is exactly how radio likes it.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. You’ll understand why Vampire Weekend’s album debuted at number one when you listen to “Unbelievers” and “Step,” the tracks radiate intelligence and creativity. Forget everything you knew about the band previously, they’ve grown, they almost deserve your attention.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. “Clarity”, featuring Foxes, is close…you listen to at least half wanting it to get better, but it’s still not bad.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And another good track is Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.” It’s a Prince rip-off, it sounds positively eighties, and the purple one does this so much better, but if you don’t find yourself nodding your head and moving your body while listening to this…you’re dead. Proving that just because it’s mainstream, that doesn’t mean it’s bad.

Spotify playlist