By time I moved to Los Angeles, Sammy Hagar had already left Montrose. The ubiquitous airplay of the band’s debut had already faded. And therefore I only caught the fumes of Sammy playing the classics as the decade wore on.

Music used to be regional. If you didn’t live in the neighborhood, if your local AOR station did not play it, it’s almost like it didn’t exist. Word of mouth stopped at the high school. In the pre-Internet era, Meatloaf could have one of the biggest selling albums of all time and be virtually unknown on the west coast.

In the old days, the seventies, actually up until the turn of the century twelve years ago, if you didn’t own it, oftentimes you could not hear it. And with limited funds, great swaths of music passed you by. But it’s all resurfaced now.

And that’s why the Internet’s a good thing. It’s unleashed the power of musicians. Unfortunately, by allowing us to hear the greats, we’ve had to be exposed to the efforts of the less than great, but it’s better this way.

I came to Ronnie Montrose late, both in time and his career. It was this track I heard on XM, "Voyager", from his band Gamma. There’s a swagger, it’s a cut that sounds straight out of Robin Trower’s canon after Trower left Procol Harum. Still, Trower’s influenced by Hendrix, he plays in a flurry of notes and sounds, whereas Ronnie’s playing was always about fluidity, once you got by the riffs Ronnie soloed like a space alien from the west coast, who was more influenced by Jeff Beck than Jimi.

And getting hooked on "Voyager", I immediately downloaded Montrose’s debut, and experienced the magic almost forty years later, the sound was just as fresh, the impact was still as great.

I spent most of the day reading about the rich, who are sometimes famous. And on one hand you feel left out, they’re members of a club you’re unable to join. But how lonely is that club without the arts. Isn’t it interesting that all the fat cats buy art, scarf up the good concert tickets. Because when it’s all said and done that’s where the power resides, in the notes emanating from a stinging guitar.

Maybe it’s hard for young ‘uns to understand that in that decade after Woodstock, during the time of Watergate, axemen ruled the earth. We debated long and hard who was best. And Ronnie Montrose had a place in the pantheon.

He’s now gone, but the music lives on.

"Voyager" – Spotify

"Voyager" – YouTube

"Voyager" LIVE!

Montrose debut

1. "Walking In Memphis"

I’d be a liar if I told you I was happy to be back in L.A.

My leg’s been hurting, I charged a reduced rate, the last thing I wanted to do was go to Memphis. But from the moment I landed and rode in Tad’s Cadillac everything felt right. As I told my psychiatrist, in Memphis I was my best self. I had a voice, I asked questions, I was invigorated and free.

And the whole time I was there this song was going through my brain.

I came to Marc Cohn late.

I don’t mean I just discovered him, it’s that I was overworked by his label, Atlantic, and his manager, Perry Watts-Russell. The album seemed a bit too slick, I didn’t think "Walking In Memphis" would be a hit, I wasn’t exactly on strike, but I didn’t dig deep until I heard…

2. "True Companion"

Baby I’ve been searching like everybody else

You think you’re only going to get married one time. At least I did. If my wife had not left me, I’d have never left her, it’s not in my DNA, I stick it out, sometimes to my detriment.

I got that from my mother. She’d never let me quit. And it wasn’t until decades later that I realized the benefit of this lesson. Sure, the key to being successful at work is showing up. But many people can do that. But few can persevere, through the good times and the bad, believing that dedication pays its own dividends.

Last night John Mayer told me his obsession with the guitar ruined his relationship with his parents. His mother kept asking him what he was gonna do when he grew up, he said THIS! PLAY THE GUITAR!

And that’s the main reason Mayer’s been successful. He’s paid his dues. In a land that’s become all about instant gratification. Sometimes you can’t see the destination, you’ve just got to get on the road, keep walking, even though you’re broke and busted and everybody tells you you’re a fool.

What do they say, it builds character?

It also builds relationships.

But when you’re abandoned, you’ve got no choice but to jump back into the pool. Because, like Sting so eloquently sang, the bed’s too big without you. It’s not exactly the sex you miss, it’s the touch, the existence of another person in your space. I remember my wife coming over for a booty call a couple of weeks after she moved out, she said she thought it would be good if we lived apart, but stayed married, that’d be perfect. Maybe for her, but not for me. I sink when I’m alone. That’s what I love about the Internet, all the people at my fingertips, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

But when she moved out, it was before the cyberspace revolution of 1995, when everybody bought a computer to play on AOL. I was alone. And eventually I found someone.

But she was not my true companion.

3. "Dig Down Deep"

This is me. To a "T".

Baby let’s go below the surface
See what we can find

This is what I’m doing right now! I’ve built my entire so-called career on this. And it’s what everybody hates about me, along with the fact that I’ve never been President of a record company and have never cut a number one record myself.

People just want to talk about the money, they don’t want to talk about the why. If I took phone calls, and I don’t, I’d be subjected to endless b.s., people selling me their stuff, telling me how great it is. They don’t want to dig down deep, they don’t want to hear about the chinks in their armor, the reasons I believe their project will lack success.

And it’s the same deal if they’ve actually made it, if they’ve had success. You can’t say anything negative about Justin Bieber to AEG, LOOK AT THE GROSSES! The manager of Lady Gaga signed off of my mailing list when I criticized her latest album, said on the surface the sales total appeared grand, but the discount price indicated there was soft demand.

Which is why it doesn’t pay to talk to these people. They’re on a one way trip to their destination, and they don’t want anybody to impair them.

Still…

Analysis, the ability to sift through the facts to draw conclusions, is what I’m all about, especially in relationships.

I don’t want to go up to the mountain
I don’t need to go down to the sea
Gonna sit right here ’till we unravel
The mystery

Some people are moving so fast they can’t see. Maybe that’s why they do it.

I come from a family of world travelers. In my early twenties I went on react, I didn’t need to go nowhere to feel good about myself. I could just sit on the phone, on the couch, talking…that was good enough for me.

While everyone else is just walking around
In their sleep
Baby let’s dig down
Dig down deep
I wanna dig down deep

I never go to breakfast. I’M NOT UP!

People invite me all the time. I tell them as soon as I wake up, I go to work. I don’t exercise, I don’t eat, otherwise I’d rather be asleep. Because I want to stay up as late as possible, in the dark, getting to the truth. Daytime scares me, all that hustle and bustle. But when the sun goes down it’s just me and the other night owls searching for answers at our own pace.

And I don’t wanna wait until tomorrow
‘Cause the fortune said that ‘The time is now’
It’s time to find out what we’re doing
What we’re doing anyhow

My ex-wife was not happy about this, my girlfriend is not a fan. For me, the right time is always now. I don’t care if it’s two a.m., we’re gonna sit right here, or lie in bed, unraveling the mystery, teasing out the answers, arguing.

I don’t believe in putting off disagreements. It just breeds distance.

You might say I’m intense.

I’m saying I want to grab hold of life, nothing’s more important than what’s going on between the two of us right now.

It’s an open invitation

If you wanna dig down deep, if you want to stand for what you do know and admit what you don’t, I’ve got endless time for you.

It’s a feeling in your heart
And a lump in the throat
It’s a strange and lovely ride
Wanna dig down deep inside

It’s all about conversation. What do they say, better to be blind than deaf? You want to be able to communicate. With your next door neighbor, the person speaking crap about you, the one you love.

We’re complicated creatures. We can live together for decades and not fully understand each other.

But I wanna try.

4. "Perfect Love"

You’ve got to listen, if for no other reason than the James Taylor background vocals, so subtle, so right.

Well they worked one summer together
At the ’64 World’s Fair
They met Robert Kennedy there

Back when we lived in a can-do nation. The ’64-’65 World’s Fair was the World’s Fair to end World’s Fairs. Arguably it did. Except for Expo ’67, which was already on the books. When you get that big, when you get that all-encompassing, your only choice is to scale back.

We were fighting our problems. We weren’t throwing our hands in the air and giving up. JFK may have been dead, but RFK and MLK were years away from the grave.

And there are references to the Unisphere and Rockaway Beach and the passage of time…and that’s what perfect love is all about, the passage of time. Not the one night stand, not the summer romance, but the relationship that lasts…through the ups and downs. Longevity begets history, it pays its own dividend.

5. "Saving The Best For Last"

A story song. One can argue that rap is just the latest iteration of this concept.

What the poor and the downtrodden need most is hope.

That’s what religion is all about.

Because sometimes reality is too much to take.

6. "29 Ways"

I actually met Willie Dixon once. At the Bug Music Christmas party.

I wish all these old bluesmen were still here, for us to question, the same way you do your grandpa. Youth is shiny and smooth, but it’s the weary oldsters who can really give you insight.

And this cover of Willie’s song works on wax, but it was the highlight of Marc’s shows way back when, probably still is.

7. "Miles Away"

My friends will ask me how I’m doin’
But I just can’t lie to ’em
Not feeling fine today

FANTASTIC!

That’s what my dentist always says when I ask him how he’s doing.

Somewhere it was written that we can’t own up to being anything but perfect. And that’s a lot of pressure, and not the human condition.

I love it when someone tells me they’re not doing well. Because then I know I’m gonna get a story, all about hopes, dreams, disappointments, life.

I’ve been miles away so many times in my life. In situations where I’ve been misunderstood and discounted. You’ve got to create your own little world. I’ll let you into mine if you let me into yours.

8. "Silver Thunderbird"

Don’t you gimme no Buick
Son you must take my world
If there’s a God in heaven
He’s got a Silver Thunderbird
You can keep your Eldorados
And the foreign car’s absurd
Me I wanna go down
In a Silver Thunderbird

My father owned one. Not a classic fifties model, but an overweight early sixties iteration. It was his first upscale automobile. He bought it used, he loved it, it indicated he’d…made it.

And as the years passed, he eventually gave up on American iron, he moved on to Mercedes. He had to have the top of the line. He got the first one through a connection, he was owed a favor, and thereafter he could not step down, it made him feel so good to get behind the wheel.

Some things never change. Not only in Los Angeles, everywhere your automobile is evidence of your status. It’s the way you tell people who you are.

9. "Lost You In The Canyon"

I don’t know why Marc Cohn fell off the edge of the earth. Maybe it was grunge, maybe it was shifting to the guitar on his next album from the piano, but he never had a hit again.

But there is this one track from his third album I want to include in this playlist.

Got your call from California
But I could hardly hear your voice
Through the hissing of the highway
And all that other noise
‘I might lose you in the canyon’
You were riding up the coast
All these things we leave unspoken
Seem to haunt me like a ghost

AT&T’s worthless in the canyons.

And that’s one third of Los Angeles right there. That’s how you know someone’s on that service, they’re driving on the 405 through the Sepulveda Pass and…the connection’s lost.

The subscribers seem to think they’ll keep signal on the freeway, but even they know it’s hopeless in the canyons.

That’s what they say… I’m entering Laurel, Benedict…I’M GONNA LOSE YOU!

I’ve lost you in the canyon
Guess you tried to let me know
Lost you in the canyon
Long, long time ago
Lost you in the canyon
Brother you fade out slow

You can’t maintain a long distance relationship with someone who moves to California.

You see we’re three hours behind. We’ve got a whole different mind-set. We’re all about possibilities. You criticize us for exercising, focusing on our appearance, embracing new age remedies, but it’s all about shedding your old self for a new one, asking questions instead of believing you’ve got all the answers. Your only hope is to fly out and join us…or let us leave you behind.

There were times I thought I knew you
Before these changes came to pass
But you don’t think about it do you
From up there in your house of glass
The earth is shifting underneath you
The land is sliding all around
Do you ever stop to wonder
About that paradise you’ve found

No. The traffic sucks. I still haven’t recovered from the ’94 earthquake. But there’s no place I’d rather live.

I’ve lost you in the canyon
Guess you tried to let me know
Lost you in the canyon
Long, long time ago
Lost you in the canyon
Brother you fade out slow

10. "Walking In Memphis"/"True Companion"

We’re all looking for our best selves. And we want to experience life with our true companions. And there are so many blind alleys, oftentimes you want to give up. And to say I’d lost my way in the early nineties would be an understatement.

Marc Cohn’s debut helped get me through.

It gave me hope.

Made me feel someone else felt what I did.

That I was not alone.

Dig down deep.

P.S. Along with the rest of the debut, the three tracks not listed above, I’m also going to include takes from the "Live 04-05" album. That’s where Marc Cohn’s best, where you finally get him, live.

Spotify playlist

Previous Rhinofy playlists

So Joe Perry walks in…

I met Jack Douglas at the Hollywood Bowl. I never figure people remember me. And I never ever heard from him until a couple of days ago, when he e-mailed to ask if I wanted to come down to the studio, to hear the new Aerosmith.

Come on, WHO WOULDN’T?

I used to connect with Tyler on an irregular basis. But we drifted apart when the band left Geffen and got a new manager. But I will tell you, he’s one of the few rock stars who don’t disappoint in real life. He’s funny, charming…and smart.

He is that cartoon character on TV. But in real life, he’s three-dimensional.

So I drive east… Into Hollywood.

And I’m not gonna tell you where they’re recording, except to tell you this nondescript concrete building is more famous as a rehearsal space than a recording studio. But Jack liked the work of the proprietor. And after cutting in Pandora’s Box in Boston, the band’s studio within a warehouse, they decamped to this new location.

And the control room’s a mashup of analog and digital equipment. Pro Tools and tape. And the studio is one giant space. With baffles. It’s funky, not sterile. It breathes, it’s not a museum. It’s dirty, not sterile.

And that’s when Jack and Warren, the engineer, started speaking about CLASP. I’ll make it simple. You record to tape, but you’re using Pro Tools. Maybe that’s too simple. But the bottom line is you get the warmth of tape with the flexibility of digital.

But what difference does it make if you’re gonna squash it all down at the end anyway?

Ah!

They’ll go to Sterling, and then they’ll call in Shelly Yakus to do AFTER MASTERING! Sure, they’ll compress the music a bit, but then Shelley’s gonna protect its life.

Wanna hear something?

So we sit in front of a pair of Genelecs and this sound comes roaring out of the speakers that reminds me of nothing so much as Camaros and beer, going to the arena show back in the seventies…

HOW DID THEY GET THAT SOUND?

Tyler’s the front man. But listening to this track, you’re reminded Aerosmith is a BAND! Underneath the vocals, the guitars are whooshing by, the bass and drums are kicking me in the gut…WHEW! You could not sit still. It was like being jetted back to the seventies.

And that’s when I heard the backstory. Jack wanted to recreate the sound of "Rocks". Which was cut in a warehouse in Waltham, Mass. They’d just been rehearsing, but then Jack realized the room had become part of the sound, so he called the Record Plant and they pulled up their truck.

And there’s only one finished cut, which hasn’t even been finally mixed. So they play me some more cuts with scratch vocals, by Joe Perry, Tom Hamilton. I wanna hear the riffs.

And when the third or fourth track is done, I turn away from the speakers and who’s sitting behind me in this cramped space but…

Joe Perry.

He’s wearing gloves, he’s got a scarf around his neck, he’s radiating charisma without even trying and my heart skips a beat.

He remarks how we haven’t seen each other for a long time. And that we’ve never really had a conversation.

And then we do.

Joe had no problem talking. It was like we were in a pizza place in Boston, catching up.

He insisted they pull up a ballad. It was his vocal, and the acoustic guitar sound was INCREDIBLE!

And we talk about Tyler and "Idol" and this crazy, mixed-up, shook-up music world and Joe tells me he’s just dying to have new music to play live. It’s been nine years between albums. The fans deserve new tracks. Not that they’re gonna overload ’em, they’re gonna drop in two or three in the summer, maybe more in the fall. They’re still gonna play the ten tracks everyone needs to hear, as well as some rare gems they haven’t played in eons, like "Woman Of The World"…

WOMAN OF THE WORLD??? I LOVE THAT TRACK!

And the conversation switches to new music, Joe tells me he’s got a son who’s a deejay and another who’s got a band and Jack tells me his son is a musician too, even playing Latin stuff, and we’re all taking note of what’s going on, but that does not deny that what Aerosmith does is ROCK!

Joe knew exactly who his audience was, what they expected…and what he wanted to do.

And then we start talking Memphis. Joe detours the bus there whenever he’s near.

And then Jack tells the story of bonding with John Lennon…who was thrilled to meet the alien who invaded Liverpool in ’65 without a passport and got tons of ink before he was deported, John knew the story, and we could have gone on all night, but…

They had to go back to work.

And after talking cars, me wondering who owned the R8 out back, Tom Hamilton, who came in in the middle, said he was soon to get his Ferrari Dino back, and we were all sitting in the dark in Hollywood in 2012 but there was a direct line back to 1975 and we were not yet encased in amber.

You see this rock and roll life is just that, life itself. It goes on forever. Just ask the fans.

And some of the bands are so talented and successful that they get to play until they drop.

Even the Stones have changed members. Zeppelin can’t reunite because Bonham’s six feet under. But every original Aerosmith member is still here. And together, they make a wondrous sound.

Which cannot be made by any one of them individually.

But together, IT’S A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE!

P.S. The tape machine is a Studer A880, which Jack bought from a chap in Beverly Hills for $2500. But now, with CLASP, the price of hardware is going up. As for tape, they got some reels of 456 from the Record Plant, which they baked at Capitol and it’s as good as new.

P.P.S. They told me the story of "Walk This Way". All they had was the riff. And every day they’d walk around Manhattan looking for inspiration, by the pimps and the prostitutes, their interaction fueled the songwriting. But this was Sunday afternoon, and the denizens of the night were nowhere to be found, so they ducked into a movie theatre to see "Young Frankenstein", and when Marty Feldman opened the door and said "walk this way"…EUREKA!

And I thought love was only true in fairy tales.

The legend of the Monkees is that they didn’t write their own songs, they didn’t play their own instruments, the whole think was fake.

WRONG!

The Monkees were the first indication that we’d won. That the old guard, the establishment, our parents, were no longer in control. We had our own sitcom on TV. Featuring our music. That was a gigantic breakthrough.

But what was even better was the music was great! In the case of "I’m A Believer", spectacular! Credit the songwriters, credit the delivery, but never forget it was a band, which came together through obtuse circumstances, like so many, but went on to not only create music, but stay together, even after their eponymous television show had been canceled.

And Micky Dolenz might have sung most of the songs.

But Davy was the front man, he was the cute one, he was the one the girls swooned for, the one we wanted to be.

Even better, he had a sense of humor about himself. He was funny back then, and knew he’d lived a charmed life until it all ended today.

Here we come
Walk down the street
We get the funniest looks
From everyone we meet

There’s not a baby boomer alive who does not know "(Theme From) The Monkees". This was not a Justin Bieber sideshow, the Monkees had more impact than Mr. Bieber or Lady Gaga. They were ubiquitous in a three network world where we were addicted to the radio when we weren’t in front of the tube.

There are classic album openers, like "Gimmie Shelter" and "Back In The U.S.S.R.", and "(Theme From) The Monkees" is a member of this club. You’re hooked from the initial drumbeat. And unlike modern hip-hop culture, the listener didn’t feel excluded, put down by the group, but invited in.

But the hit was "Last Train To Clarksville". It played all fall until… "I’m A Believer" took over and owned the airwaves, through Christmas and beyond.

A magical track, "I’m A Believer" pivoted on Micky Dolenz’s breathy vocals, but we didn’t see it as a solo cut, but a masterpiece by the Monkees. It still puts a smile on my face today. I played it incessantly back then. I have never ever burned out on it. In a pre-Internet era where we didn’t have our music on demand, you listened to the radio until they played your favorite song and then you went out and bought it.

Which I did.

I even bought the songbook, so I could play the songs at home, on my guitar. Not because I thought I was gonna be rich and famous, but because I wanted to share in the joy.

And I’m stunned how joyful I feel when I hear "Pleasant Valley Sunday" today. I’d given up at this point, as you often do. I bought the first three albums and then dropped out, but years later I realized I was wrong, this was a killer track.

But, once again, Davy did not sing the lead vocal.

But not only did Davy carry the hit "Daydream Believer", he sang "I Wanna Be Free", "This Just Doesn’t Seem To Be My Day" and "Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)", which were as big as the hits to we who wore out these vinyl records.

I saw Davy twice in recent years. Once at the Pollstar Awards, where he demonstrated the aforementioned sense of humor about himself and last summer at the Greek, as part of the Monkees reunion.

At Pollstar, Davy talked about being a fading, aged rock star. The bills for college. He mocked his height, or lack thereof. And was essentially shilling for work, that’s why you present at the Pollstar Awards.

At the Greek, the band played all the hits, we reveled in the memories. They showed video, we marveled over who we once were. It was thrilling, but shortly thereafter they broke up once again and the rest of the tour was canceled.

And that’s the story of rock and roll, of being a fan. We want our bands to last forever. But they almost never do. The alchemy is so fragile. But the music remains. We put our faith in it. It keeps us going.

Such that when one of its purveyors passes to the other side, we’re shocked. We thought they’d be here forever, with us, like the music. We looked up to them. If they’re old and gray and pass away, what is to happen to us?

I don’t know if Davy Jones went to the doctor. If he adhered to his prescription. In any event, he’s now gone. He was a thread, however thin, to what once was, my formative years, I didn’t have a bad memory about him. But if he goes, that means I’m next.

Yes, we baby boomers are heading into our sunset years. And as we’re shuffled off the horizon, they want to rewrite our history.

Let it be said that we were mad about the Monkees. Their music stands the test of time. They were trailblazers. They were not hula-hoops, used briefly and then discarded with disdain, but a group of four men we embraced warmly. They let Jimi Hendrix open for them. They created one of the first psychedelic films. Hell, to get "Head" you’ve got to be high on drugs. It was co-written by Jack Nicholson before anyone knew who he was. Don’t pigeonhole the Monkees as a trifle, as a mere footnote, as puppets. With their television show on the air it showed us not only that we had won, but the music was the decisive weapon in our battle. Soon bands like the Jefferson Airplane would be testing limits, we’d all gather at Woodstock and blow the mainstream’s mind.

We owned the country. It was now ours.

And it would have happened slower, and it would have been different without the Monkees.

Great songs, great performances… If that ain’t the essence of music, I don’t know what is.

Davy, we’ll never forget you.