They were so young.

And so were we!

The Eagles are one of the most hated bands in history.

Why?

Because they were successful, and they took themselves and their music really seriously. That’s not how you’re supposed to do it in rock and roll. You’re supposed to be on a lark, you’re not supposed to care, it’s all just supposed to happen. You luck into hits, blow all your money and thrust your arms in the air when it’s all done, in an expression that says “What the hell!”

But it don’t really happen that way at all. It’s really hard to make it. Not only does it require patience and perseverance, talent and dedication, it demands mental energy. Can you handle it? All the scrutiny, all the expectations?

Randy Meisner couldn’t. He just wanted to be one of the guys. He didn’t always feel like singing “Take It To The Limit,” he wasn’t always up to singing the high notes. But Glenn Frey demanded he perform it. Because the audience EXPECTED IT!

You’re not supposed to care about the audience. But they pay their hard-earned money. And if you don’t deliver, not only will they be disappointed, they probably won’t come back. And everybody knows the money’s in repeat business. Having enough albums to get a better deal. Enough hits and good vibes to play bigger places at a higher price.

Do you think that’s easy?

Then you probably believe money grows on trees.

The documentary starts with roots.

We all come from somewhere, it defines who we are. And in the pre-Internet era, we were all extremely localized. You could be popular in your own high school, but in the next town over, you were unknown. The road to stardom was strewn with potholes and blind turns. You just had to get behind the wheel of the car and keep driving.

To California.

Where the American Dream reaches its zenith. Today in Silicon Valley. Yesterday in Los Angeles. Prior to the sixties in the movie business. But for fifteen years thereafter, from ’65 to ’80, the music business ruled. Musicians made more money than actors. They followed their own muse. And the audience paid attention, their only desire to go to the show and get backstage.

Yes, do you think twentysomething boys played their music and went home to watch TV and read books? OF COURSE NOT! The first night Irving Azoff spent with the band on the road they didn’t even bother checking into the hotel. They went straight from the gig to the party. In this pre-AIDS era sex was rampant, as were the drugs. The life of a rock star was the apotheosis.

And no one lived it to the fullest like the Eagles.

Of course we had Led Zeppelin. But they weren’t American. They were dark and introverted. Whereas Glenn Frey was all about fun. Let’s RAGE!

So the film begins with the band onstage.

You’ve just got to see them walk, with their guitars over their shoulders. This is deadly serious work. And they’re up to the task.

I feel sorry for those of you who grew up in the era of MTV. If you want to know what it was like before television taught us how to behave, see this movie. There’s no dancing, no production, no special effects. Just music. AND THE AUDIENCE IS LOSING ITS MIND! The music was enough. MORE THAN ENOUGH!

If you were there you’ll tingle.

If you weren’t, you’ll lament you were born too late.

So Don Henley is a drummer in Texas with chutzpah. He implores Kenny Rogers to come see his band and the singer ends up producing their album for Amos Records. Hell, just the footage of Kenny singing ” Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” will thrill you.

This was not only the soundtrack to our life, this music WAS OUR LIFE!

The Beatles started it. In one fell swoop they made every baby boomer music crazy, everyone picked up a guitar, everyone played, music was all we talked about. Steve Jobs started Apple Computer, but it was Bob Dylan who he put atop a pedestal.

Glenn hooks up with J.D. Souther and they form Longbranch Pennywhistle. They end up befriending Jackson Browne and move in above him in Echo Park. Where at nine every morning Jackson makes tea and starts to write. Playing the same riffs twenty times in a row. THAT’S WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE IT! You don’t see the hard work at home, only the result, but the dues being paid are hefty.

And they’re hanging at the Troubadour. Henley saw Elton’s debut. You see back then, we were all fans. We didn’t want to hang out with bankers, we wanted to get closer to the music.

And Glenn and Don get gigs backing up Linda Ronstadt.

You should see her in this flick. She’s eloquent and sexy…she’s a STAR! And she plays the guitar! Today our females are too often pinups, Linda was all about the music.

And then the band signs a bad deal with David Geffen and moves to Aspen to rehearse. And try to get Glyn Johns to produce their record.

Whew! We never see the behind the scenes people. We certainly never see the tension. Glyn was a martinet, he thought the Eagles didn’t rock, it took three albums for the band to stand up to him. Hell, today most acts don’t even get three albums!

And they end up switching to Joe Walsh’s producer, Bill Szymczyk and they mic every drum and suddenly…they’re the biggest band in the land.

But then they push it further. They record “Hotel California.”

And it wasn’t only that track. “Life In The Fast Lane” became an anthem, an aphorism heard all over the country. Before we quoted rap lyrics, everybody was referencing the Southern California lifestyle evidenced in Eagles records.

And Bernie Leadon goes his own way.

And Don Felder pisses off Glenn Frey, they just about come to blows and the band is done. Just like that.

Oh, they eked out “The Long Run.” But they were running on fumes. They’d given it their all. You can run the factory 24/7, do a bit of maintenance and it’ll run forever. But not people. They get fried, their creative juices run out. They burn out.

But the music remains.

The Eagles have the best-selling album of all time.

And people hate them for it.

Like a college dropout hates a banker, a tech titan.

But do you want a college dropout performing surgery on you?

NO! You want the most qualified doctor available. Not only an M.D. with a long CV, but the one who never makes a mistake, who operates on the famous people, the first call.

And that’s what we want in our music.

Denigrate the Eagles all you want. But the proof is in the grooves. And the attendance decades on. Hell, you don’t have to like the music, but if you don’t give them respect you probably think Obama was born in Kenya and didn’t graduate from Harvard.

Ain’t that America, the land of sour grapes.

But also the land of hopes and dreams.

Two sons of factory workers emigrate to California and live the American Dream. Right or left, Republican or Democrat, that’s what we’re all looking for. A better life than our parents, the fulfillment of our dreams.

Want to know how it’s done?

Watch this documentary.

It was fun!

Of course it was at the Beverly Hills Hotel, in a pink bungalow. A legend hews to tradition.

But what I was not prepared for was how nice Clive was. I’ve written some awful stuff about him in the past. That’s why he wanted to get together. To give me his perspective.

Now let me define “awful.” I didn’t use expletives, and I said nothing I wouldn’t stand by today, but it’s tough to be on the receiving end of criticism. I know, they’re beating me up on Twitter as I write this!

So I was somewhat trepidatious. These honchos can get on their high horse and dominate. But that’s not what Clive did.

First and foremost, he was wearing sneakers. Running shoes, to be specific. Not that there was any brand in evidence. Maybe they’re custom. But these endeared me to him more than anything else, because they normalized him, they illustrated that it wasn’t all about image, that comfort, reality, took precedence.

And the first thing I told Clive was that he had to be on Howard Stern.

You see on the way down the hill I heard Jewel perform a song Howard wrote when he was in the sixth grade. Because that’s what we did back then. We wrote, we played, we wanted to be a rock star. Not what’s called a rock star today. Someone who’s rich, someone who plays the game, someone who’s separate from his audience, but an artist, who speaks his truth to his audience and listens to and takes guidance from no one.

That’s the way it was.

These musicians practiced for years. There were no short cuts to stardom. Sure, there were some teenybopper acts, but we didn’t take them seriously, unlike the way the industry and the media fawn over today’s TV stars, made famous overnight by “Idol, ” “The Voice” and “X Factor.” A rock star of yore literally rose from the streets, there was almost never an overnight success. And your audience never made fun of  you, they loved you, they were thrilled by you, you were the reason they kept on living.

And “marketing” was a term unknown to the hoi polloi. You either could play or you couldn’t. No one’s tweeting and Facebooking eclipsed their tunes. And there was a strict dividing line, between those who were signed and those who were not. Professionals and amateurs.

Now we’re all in it together and chaos reigns.

I told Clive I got it. He had to make money for the company. He didn’t have the luxury of signing only cutting edge acts. He wanted to impress this upon me. He walked me slowly from Columbia to today, all his choices, all his victories. And I’d be dishonest if I didn’t say it was somewhat akin to Steve Jobs’s legendary reality distortion field. It would be hard to exit the bungalow without believing Clive Davis truly was Mr. Music, that he was the preeminent leader, a beacon pointing the way.

But I still don’t like Ace Of Base.

But that’s not a criticism of Clive. He understands commerciality.

You see I’m infatuated with the culture. I remember when music defined the world. When you tuned in the radio to know which way the wind blew. When artists not only played, but wrote. Hell, I quoted some lyrical gems to Clive today.

And Clive got it.

Because he’s a fan.

That’s what’s missing today. A love of music.

There’s a love of money, a love of fame.

But once upon a time the music came first.

And not only will the music save us, it will outlive us.

To hear Clive rhapsodize about repertoire is to have the strings in your heart pulled. Because there’s nothing better than a hit record. It makes you feel good all over.

And Clive said every act wants hits.

Artists want audiences. If you’re doing it solely for yourself, you’re lying, or you suck.

And then Richard started talking about the Lumineers.

Yes, Richard Palmese, Clive’s consigliere. Richard broke that record. Which was something so foreign to Top Forty radio, my jaw is still on the floor.

Richard said Top Forty could not deny the story. Success at other formats. A couple of stations took a chance, and then everybody went on it. Because at the end of the day it’s about hits, built on hooks, and “Ho Hey” has an indelible one.

Yup, our conversation evolved into records and careers.

Did Taylor Swift make a mistake crossing over?

Clive pondered this question with Carrie Underwood.

You see he’s a student of the game.

That’s what’s been lost in the talk about money and fashion and perfume and energy drinks. It’s really about marrying talent to songs and creating a combustion such that the entire populace becomes aware, and money comes raining down.

Clive needed that money to keep his job.

I just need hit records to feed my mental health, to keep me stimulated and entertained, to keep me going.

We’re not in a heyday.

Music takes a back seat to tech. And it’s hard to champion so much of this dreck when television is cutting edge and Tarantino takes more risks than the biggest record producers.

But change is afoot.

The tools of the trade are in the hands of the proletariat. Distribution is available to everybody. The only thing between you and ubiquity is a hit song.

That’s what Clive Davis specialized in creating.

If the act composed it, fantastic.

If not, he was gonna find it for them.

That’s what being a music man is all about. You may not be able to play, but that does not mean you can’t cogitate, define, put all your passion behind something you believe in.

So at the end of the day, Clive and I are on the same team.

We’re slaves to the rhythm.

And the melody.

No piece of iron or steel, no monetary currency can compete with that mellifluous sound emanating from the speakers, that elixir of life, that satiates us and keeps us going.

P.S. Of course I heard tons more. But it was off the record! I promised I wouldn’t tell the stories from his forthcoming book. But even more intriguing and satisfying was Clive’s analysis of acts and the business. You see it’s nuance that makes a difference. Everybody believes it’s about the blunt hammer. But no, it’s got more to do with how you swing it, when and where. A degree here or there makes all the difference. Hell, I remember the mix of “Help Me Rhonda” on “Beach Boys Today.” It was a middling trifle. But the single remix was a STONE COLD SMASH!

P.P.S. I told Clive he had to be on Stern because Howard has a passionate audience. They don’t listen in the background, but the foreground. Stern’s audience has more power than any newspaper and any late night or morning TV show. If you’re not willing to break the rules, go against the grain, deal with reality as opposed to perception, you’re not going to get very far.

P.P.P.S. We talked about the other Clive, Clive Calder, who had the greatest financial victory in the history of the music business, a $2.7 billion payout from Bertelsmann. Didn’t he miss it? How could he stay away? Clive Davis was flummoxed that Clive Calder, who he’d given a deal to decades before, could remove himself from the game. Davis believed Calder loved it too much. He saw tears streaming down Calder’s cheek when he testified at the UJA dinner. There are some things bigger than money, like music.

1. The world is getting smaller.

2. Despite income inequality, the gap between rich and poor, consumer and company, famous and obscure, is closing. Used to be it would be impossible for the punter to reach the celebrity. Now all he has to do is tweet.

3. Image is everything. Yours doesn’t have to be perfect, but if you’ve got any skeletons in the closet, they’ll come out. Not only did Alicia Keys make a deal with BlackBerry, so did Neil Gaiman. What looks like an easy check might be read completely different by the public. Own your moves and be prepared for backlash.

4. Be available. Have multiple online homes. Allow people to reach you.

5. Don’t react. Would you punch someone willy-nilly on the playground? Don’t knee-jerk react to the haters online. To paraphrase Bob Dylan, they’re just trying to get you down into the hole they’re in.

6. The haters don’t really care about you, check their feed, after they assassinate you, they go on to shoot others. Their desire is to be famous. By interacting, you’re just adding fuel to the fire.

7. Be nimble. Don’t think twice, play. Be unafraid to make mistakes. So much information is crossing the transom, a constant rushing river of data, that your effort will soon be forgotten.

8. Be yourself. Then you can never get in trouble. Your fans will love you, your haters will only stop when you lose your fame. You’re playing to your fans. Be thrilled anybody else cares.

9. Platform hop. MySpace was superseded by Facebook, Twitter is where the action is today, it might not be tomorrow.

10. Be beholden to your fans, not advertisers. This is Facebook’s mistake. So busy trying to make money and placate Wall Street, the service is alienating its users, who provide all its content. Bad policy. Users don’t mind you making money, as long as it doesn’t impact their experience. The gold standard is Google. No one is bothered by Google search ads or mail ads. If your business model pisses off your fans, be very afraid.

11. Instagram is not on BlackBerry—although that might be changing:

Instagram BlackBerry 10 app ‘definitely coming’

Alicia Keys is addicted to Instagram. Try getting someone to give up their addiction, almost impossible. Never contract your reach, but concentrate on playing where the people are. Making Instagram less Twitter friendly might be good for Facebook, its owner, but it’s bad for the service.

12. Nothing comes back. To expect MySpace to revive is to expect New Kids On The Block to hit number one.

13. Fans are stunned when you respond.

14. Don’t always be nice. Online is not. Read the comments to this Richard Marx story for edification. The writer’s trying to make Marx look like a jerk. But many commenters feel just the opposite, that the writer is the jerk:

Richard Marx hates my guts

Then again, Marx did break rule number one, don’t respond to the haters.

15. The reason there’s so much bad music is everybody wants to participate! Everybody’s got the tools and everybody feels entitled!

16. Very few rise above the din.

17. Very few cross multiple arenas. A true superstar is discussed by all.

18. Ubiquity fights gravity. You think you want to be the biggest in the world, but then you’ve just got more people trying to drag you down. If you truly have a universal message, spread it. Otherwise, be satisfied with your core.

Turns out everybody wants to participate.

Facebook is about connection, Twitter is about participation.

We were thrilled to learn we could connect with everybody we’ve ever known. Facebook accomplished that. But that’s the past, and the action is in the future.

Just like Wikipedia, Facebook is a great place to study up on people. It’s just not a good place to interact. It’s too slow. Akin to e-mail, where you send and then wait for a reply. In a world of text, Facebook is a phone call. Something too slow and drawn out to be of much utility to the bleeding edge, which is populated by all those youngsters advertisers are truly consumed with.

If you want to build something that lasts, allow people to participate. This is what Amanda Palmer knows and Don Henley does not. That if you’re not willing to get down in the gutter with your fans, you’re done. Rich people might have all the money, but when it comes to social interaction, we’re all in it together. Everybody is a star in his or her own movie. And they hate being ignored.

TV has now become social. If you can’t comment and make fun of what’s on screen, you don’t want to watch. That’s the essence of live. That’s why ratings for live events is so large. It gives the public a chance to play when the most eyeballs are watching. Tweet about a “Seinfeld” rerun and you’ll be the tree falling in the proverbial forest. Have an opinion on what Jodie Foster said at the Golden Globes and you’ll be part of a veritable swarm of like-minded, interested people. Not only are you reacting, engaged by the interaction, deep inside you believe your words might be retweeted to the masses.

It’s funny to watch the Twitter arc. People sign up and tweet incessantly and then stop. They’re just not sure who’s listening. And generally speaking, very few are. Then there are those with miniscule followings who have found their raison d’etre. It keeps them sane, to be a voice in their tiny little world. And then there are events, when everybody’s checking their Twitter feed like mad, wanting to know info and give their opinion on it.

Is Twitter the answer? Is it the last stop?

The only last stop seems to be Amazon. Which started selling books and now sells seemingly everything and reinvests almost all profits, confounding investors. What Jeff Bezos understands is he not busy born is busy dying. If you’re not reinventing yourself every day, if you’re resting on your laurels, it’s just a matter of when you’re marginalized. We live in an accelerated culture wherein Nokia can be king and then an also-ran in a matter of a few years.

This is the new reality. If you’re not planning where you’re going, you’re in the process of stopping.

This is what confounds me about Apple. Without a streaming music component, the iTunes Store takes a huge hit. It may be too late to beat Spotify/MOG and Deezer. Then again, a well-placed strike soon could result in triumph.

That’s the Amazon model. Be first when you can, play catch-up soon when you can’t. Break ground with the Kindle, play catch-up with the Kindle Fire.

Then there’s yesterday’s triumphant marketing effort by Oreo. Whilst the other advertisers were placating fat cats at the game, Oreo tweeted humorously during the blackout and ended up with a ton of free marketing after 15,000 retweets.

How Oreo Won the Marketing Super Bowl With a Timely Blackout Ad on Twitter

Next year, to be sure, every advertiser will have a social media team, like the fifteen person cabal Oreo fielded yesterday.

And you wonder why Adele is the biggest musical star in the world.

No dancing, just singing, what a concept!

I wasn’t sure what to do after Beyonce’s appearance, join a gym or masturbate. It was spectacle befitting the game, one could argue strongly it was more dynamic and exciting than the game. You had no desire to check your Twitter feed, all you could do was pay attention.

But how much did this have to do with music?

Who do we blame? Madonna? Who invented a new paradigm and then went for a victory lap wherein she dieted down to nothing and spent hours a day working out? Do you think Adele works out? Ha!

Beyonce made Madge look old. She proudly strutted her luscious thighs, in one fell swoop making a whole swath of America’s women feel good about themselves.

Yes, there was nothing wrong with Beyonce’s appearance.

But what was right?

Do we even care if she lip-synched?

This is pure commerce. Sponsored by Pepsi, as if Ms. Knowles has sipped the sugar water in years. The thought of her drinking Pepsi is akin to believing Alicia Keys uses a BlackBerry!

The show was an assault.

Blame the CD, where subtlety doesn’t sound good. Blame hip-hop, which is laden with attitude. But tonight’s performance was one big step back for music itself.

Then again, the Lumineers are bigger than Alicia Keys, and maybe even than Beyonce. And Mumford & Sons sold more records than both of them.

The major labels still haven’t gotten the memo. They believe if they just throw enough production at the public, people will be overwhelmed.

But what people want most is music. When done right, you need no dancing, no production other than amplification.

If you watched Beyonce tonight and thought about the music, you’re blind.

But credit the NFL. It finally entered the twenty first century.

But if you truly want to triumph at this sporting extravaganza, watch Prince’s performance He knew the music came first. Lead with the tunes, dazzle with your personality. Tonight’s performance had it backwards.