I saw the Woodstock movie, Santana killed with "Soul Sacrifice", but although I liked "Evil Ways" I didn’t buy the debut, I only had so much money.

So, months later, when I was a freshman at college and everybody was buying albums to evidence their identity, I didn’t purchase the newly released "Abraxas" either.

But I heard it emanating from Muddy Waters’s dorm room.

That’s what you did back then, you studied with the music blaring. Which might have been why I usually went to the library, then again, people talked there too. But really, I just wanted to get out of the dorm.

Still, while I was spinning "After The Gold Rush" during my off time, Muddy was playing two albums I became enamored of, Lee Michaels’s "Barrel" and "Abraxas".

And in each case, it was one track that closed me.

Off "Barrel" it was "What Now America".

Off "Abraxas" it was "Mother’s Daughter".

I know, I know, the single was "Black Magic Woman", no one ever talks about "Mother’s Daughter", but it had an infectious sound I just could not get enough of, my opinion on Santana changed instantly, the band went from one of the pack to necessary. "Abraxas" is their apotheosis.

"Mother’s Daughter"

It’s the organ intro, like Felix Cavaliere getting high and jamming late at night in the Haight. Meanwhile, there’s the bass dancing intermittently underneath. And then the chunky electric guitar riff, which cuts to the bone as the Latin percussion fills out the track.

And then, thirty seconds in, you go for a wild ride! It’s as if the roller coaster has crested the initial big hill and you’re speeding down the rails at the limits of control. This is the sound that made Santana famous. Alvin Lee could play faster, the English cats were about dancing all over the fretboard, but Carlos was all about sustain!

And the verse finally begins a full minute in. This song was not built for the radio, it was built just for you, the album listener.

And the guitar accents make you scrunch your face and then you’re back on the roller coaster and if this doesn’t make you feel thrilled to be alive, you’re no friend of mine.

And when the song modulates up and breaks down and then tears ass after three minutes in, you just cannot believe it could get better, everybody’s dialed in, you’re pulling into the station, you’re whipping out your quarter to go on this ride again.

Whew!

"Incident At Neshabur"

The stinging guitar has you banging your head. And the jazzy interlude is unforeseen. If only Carlos would stop being so debonair and whip out this sound at Bonnaroo, he’d truly be embraced by today’s music lovers. If he once more made it about music instead of hits.

This instrumental is just an album cut, but it’s my second favorite track on "Abraxas". Maybe because of the way all the musicians are so locked in, you can see them staring into each other’s face, afraid to make a mistake.

"Hope You’re Feeling Better"

In Hepburn Hall, everybody wanted to play the first side of "Abraxas", but I always liked the second side best. "Hope You’re Feeling Better" is related to "Mother’s Daughter", they’re cut from the same cloth, but "Hope You’re Feeling Better" is intense in a different way. It’s the over-emoted vocal.

But when it all breaks down about 1:45 in, you’re unprepared for the respite, which is introspective, positively post-coital.

And be sure to stay through the end, which is one of the best finishes in rock and roll, they’re firing on all cylinders, and then they just STOP!

Once again, WHEW!

"Singing Winds, Crying Beasts"

Usually album openers are in your face.

But this sounds like sunrise in the desert. It begins so quiet, slow and majestic. You’re not sure whether to be wowed or on guard. The best music will take you where you’re not sure you want to go. Santana was urging us to trust them, to go on this journey of darkness and light.

And when the song transitions after 1:30, the keyboard sounds like it was recorded in outer space. Nothing else sounded like this. Back in the classic rock era, where you didn’t fall in line, but went on your own exploratory trip.

"Oye Como Va"

Anita: "You sleep until noon and then you watch ‘Rocky and Bullwinkle’ and then you drive your cab, what a couple hours a day, and then you come home and order out food and then you play those stupid Tito Puente albums until two in the morning."

Winger: "Tito Puente is going to be dead and you’re going to say ‘I’ve been listening to him for years and I think he’s fabulous!’"

"Stripes" never gets enough love. Yes, it’s stupid, but it’s so damn SMART!

Bill Murray was not the only one who loved Tito Puente. Carlos Santana and his band brought this magic music to the rest of America. Santana turned "Oye Como Va" into a standard. And they lifted Tito’s arrangement, but by infusing it with Carlos’s guitar, they made it their own.

There’s no such thing as a bad version of "Oye Como Va", whether it be by Tito Puente, Santana or a marching band. It just makes you feel good all over. That’s the power of great changes.

"Black Magic Woman"

A magical intro. A few simple organ notes and a searing guitar. It doesn’t have to be complicated to be great, it’s just got to be right.

At the time, most people had no idea this was a Fleetwood Mac original, written by Peter Green, but this was when that band was still blues-based, before most of America caught on to how fabulous they truly were.

Fleetwood Mac’s take sounds dated, then again, so does Robert Johnson and the rest of the classic blues. Actually, it’s not exactly dated, but more akin to preserved in amber, evidence of another, better time.

Funny about Clive Davis victory laps. They bring the artists back to the forefront, they allow them to tour and make boatloads of money, but they muddy the legacy, the image of these great performers.

Sure, Rod Stewart would wear a suit way back when. But it was almost ironic. He was not selling out so much as pursuing his own dream, giving the middle finger to the establishment which he ultimately embraced, decades later. Yes, Levon Helm died and we’ve got a victory lap for the Band, but if you don’t believe Rod Stewart and his troupe of merrymakers deserve a victory lap for those first three, actually four, solo albums, you’ve never listened to them. But Levon stayed true, Rod did not.

And Carlos was even more down and out than Rod when he sold his soul to Clive. And the records he made with Mr. Davis were better than those of the Mod, at least they featured brand new material. But they were cookie-cutter, they were made to be hits, something "Abraxas" was not. "Abraxas" was a steaming hot platter made to blow listeners away on its own merit. It pulled no punches, played it not a whit safe. And it still stand up today.

"Abraxas" is not nostalgia, it’s MUSIC!

Spotify link

Previous Rhinofy playlists

EZRIN

Steve Hunter wrote the riff in "Solsbury Hill". And the original refrain was completely different, involving a taxi, and Bob said NO, there was NO WAY that was gonna be on the record.

To say Bob Ezrin’s interview with Ralph Simon was riveting would do it no justice. If you live for these records, the inside story behind them was everything. These records are part of our DNA. It’s like going to a family reunion!

Bob was supposed to say no to Alice Cooper.

But riveted by the live show, his boss Jack Richardson insisted BOB do it. At the age of twenty. Some people are born ready.

And the backstory of Kiss’s "Destroyer"? Bob told the band they were only appealing to boys, they had to appeal to girls, they had to be like Marlon Brando in "The Wild One", they had to express vulnerability, women needed to FIX THEM!

At first fans hated the album, then it went on to be KISS’s biggest EVER!

"Berlin" was written after Bob told Lou Reed that his songs were short stories, what ever happened to the characters in them?

As for "The Wall"… Bob knew he’d produced a masterpiece. And promptly went home to Toronto and waited for the phone to ring, which it did not. For four years. Randy Philips asked him what he was doing in T.O., told him he had to move to L.A., he did.

In an era where producers are yes-men, usually engineers, Bob is positively old school. He’ll tell acts no, he’ll inspire them, he takes control. Too many acts are not ready to be pushed to greatness.

But that’s what Bob does.

CHINESE HERITAGE CENTRE

I’m a Jew. Would I have left Europe to avoid the Holocaust?

I think not, it’s not in my personality, I’m kind of a stick in the mud. But the Chinese left their homeland in droves. For a better life.

All through the 1800s they shipped out to Singapore, many dying in the process, their bodies thrown overboard. And when the survivors got to the promised land they immediately went to the temple, to give thanks. And went on to live in squalor, breaking their backs, working hard, sleeping with their brethren all in one room.

Singapore is modern now, but it was not back then.

Chinatown Heritage Centre

CHECKERS

If Harry Chapin were still alive, he’d write a song about it. All the old men at the fringe of Chinatown, focused on victory. Funny what we live for.

And right nearby was a temple. I went in for the air conditioning. Singapore is so damn hot and humid it becomes intolerable.

But I was not prepared for the chanting. A whole room of worshippers singing in unison with the orange-saried man on the dais. It was awe-inspiring. With all the Buddhas on the wall. It seemed not a whit tedious, I was almost inspired to get on my knees and join them.

FORT CANNING PARK

I like to walk a city. It helps me understand the layout. But after exiting Chinatown and walking by the river that was once Singapore’s lifeblood I encountered so many steps up to the park my heart sank. But putting one foot in front of another, I slowly ascended.

And at the top I found an acoustic trio so good I couldn’t stop listening. They were playing Katy Perry, "Don’t Stop Believin’". This music travels the world if it’s done right.

And when I circled the mountaintop I found a sign referencing the "time ball". Yup, a hundred fifty years ago every day at 12:55 it dropped slowly to 1 PM, so people down below could set their clocks. It’s fascinating to go back in time. What seems antiquated today was progress back then.

THE BANANA LEAF APOLO

I went there for dinner with Ross & Laurietta and the AEG crew.

Ross was flying to Singapore on business. The woman sitting next to him was constantly being asked for her autograph. Turned out she was host of the Singapore version of "Entertainment Tonight". And when she asked him if he was a concert promoter, he said YES!

Even though nothing could be further from the truth.

But now he is.

The Banana Leaf Apolo is a legendary place in Little India, where we had fish head soup, yup, the entire head was in the bowl, and the waiters slung vegetables onto our banana leaf covered plates from swinging pots. It was all so yummy.

And after Meglen tried to buy gold we went down to the river, where I heard the stories of his minions. Expatriate Americans drawn into the AEG fold. One guy could have gone to Yale, but he moved to Taiwan, learned Chinese and went to university there. And went into translation, sports management and was ultimately recruited by Leiweke and Anschutz.

And after having dessert and hearing the local band Sixx, fronted by a Singaporean who’d attended Boston College, we descended into the subterranean nightclub beneath the Grand Hyatt, where all the expats congregate. Whereupon Ross and his buddy Phil told me about living in Singapore. There’s 100% employment, 100% home ownership, and if there’s a bit of censorship, that’s cool. Ross would never return to the States. Phil was supposed to be here for only a few years, as a management consultant, now it’s been seventeen. They can’t go back, when they do everybody in America is so unworldly, they can’t connect.

The Banana Leaf Apolo

ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow’s parties

And that’s what it was at the Factory, a 24/7 party.

Tod Machover told me about an Andy Warhol show at the Marina Bay Sands ArtScience Museum, I woke up and dragged my ass there Sunday morning.

Inspirational.

What I did not know was what a great illustrator Andy Warhol(a) was. That’s how he built his rep. He was in demand.

But he just didn’t give people what they wanted, he used that as a jumping off point, he challenged preconceptions, he built the silver-painted Factory, he made films, if people became comfortable with what he was doing, he moved on. Unlike the record industry, he was not mired in, not attached to the past, he moved into the future.

Ezrin said there were tons of performers, but very few artists.

Andy Warhol was an artist.

Even his quips resonated…

"They always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

Whew! Are you just floating in the river or changing its course? You can give people what they want or strike out on your own and see if they follow. You can risk. Inertia is anathema.

"If everybody’s not a beauty then nobody is."

Kind of like that "Twilight Zone" episode "The Eye Of The Beholder". It’s all about viewpoint, we’re all human, we’re all exotic and special in our own way.

Then again, on another wall was printed:

"Even beauties can be unattractive. If you catch a beauty in the wrong light at the right time, forget it. I believe in low lights and trick mirrors. I believe in plastic surgery."

Ah, vanity.

There was film of the Velvet Underground, and of Edie Sedgwick, and playing over the sound system was "All Tomorrow’s Parties".

The sixties were fifty years ago. But we haven’t had a great leap forward in art and perception since. Maybe we’re ready.

Andy Warhol: 15 Minutes Eternal

SINGAPORE AIRLINES

They had iMacs in the lounge. That’s a first.

And although a tailwind made the flight just a hair shy of fifteen hours, it was interminable, without my buddies along, like on the way over.

And I get back home and it’s the same as it ever was.

And that’s depressing.

I want to go back to my hotel room, I want my friends at my fingertips.

It was a magical time.

It was fantastic.

I don’t do well alone.

And I spend so much time by myself.

Last night we went to a restaurant by the beach that was not. Ty found it, but it had moved. But the mall location, although a disappointment, didn’t put a damper on the evening, because of the conversation.

Ty Roberts founded Gracenote. You know how you insert your CD into your computer and the titles come down? That’s what Gracenote does. But not what it did originally. Originally, it was a company that created software for those giant CD changers, you know, with 300 discs, the ones that went the way of the Dodo Bird.

This was after Ty left Apple.

He was sitting there one day and David Bowie called. Just the main number, the switchboard, Bowie wanted to talk to someone in music. Ty ended up with the call. He didn’t believe it was David. But it was.

They ended up doing an interactive disc. Ty formed a company to do that. Then he wondered why you just couldn’t do the same online. You see Ty’s an engineer, a coder, he not only fixes problems, he finds solutions for stuff no one else is thinking about. It’s the same ethos that drove Steve Wozniak.

Also at the table was Alexander Shuglin. From SIBERIA!

"You grew up in Siberia? How cold was it?"

Minus 40 in the winter. And plus 40 in the summer. Kind of like Minnesota. The worst of both worlds. And the next big city was hundreds of kilometers away, and Moscow thousands. Why did Irkutsk exist? Because that’s where they built MiGs.

Wow.

Alexander was a musician. The band he joined was shut down by the government. But eventually he became a writer, after Perestroika, he’s had a plethora of number ones, and multiple records of the year.

What did he do with the money?

He reinvested it. Put a little in the bank, but lost it all. His friend who ran the institution got a margin call. But it didn’t bother Alexander… Whew!

And then I got into it with Tod Machover. A professor at the MIT Media Lab. His group was responsible for Guitar Hero and Rock Band. He comes up with new instruments. And writes operas. And is full of energy. Not every rock star is on the pop charts.

And calling it a night after the conversation was extended in the air conditioning of the lobby I fell asleep and woke up too early.

Because now I was on my own. Everybody else was leaving today. I am leaving tomorrow.

I can go my own way. But a low level depression set in. But I put on my clothes and ambled down to a breakfast that is a smorgasbord of delicacies, especially the shui mai, which I’ve been eating every morning.

And that’s where I found Ralph Simon. Who invited me to sit with himself and Jim Griffin and Peter Jenner.

And that’s when the discussion got interesting. Americans are born to be creative, to challenge authority, the Chinese are all about replicating the master. At least that’s what Jim said, I’ve never been to China.

Peter said that the U.K. was now all about creativity. That a politician was better off being seen with Peter Gabriel than a banker. Yup, the U.K. had two axes, banking and intellectual property, the former is in the crapper, expect the government to incentivize the latter.

And Ralph talked about meeting with government bigwigs in New Orleans. Population is low and rents are now cheap. They want to encourage a burgeoning arts scene. Residents just won first prize at Sundance.

Art can change the world.

But only a small sliver of people can be artists. They’ve got to be willing to march to their own drummer and be selfish. We need them.

One’s a promoter and one’s an agent. And I figured I wouldn’t learn a single thing from either of them.

But I did.

What I liked most was Neil Warnock saying they were in it for the long haul, unlike the labels. We’ve known for two decades the labels don’t care about longevity, but what about the agents? Well, the difference is the people working at the label don’t own it. They’re working for a salary. On a relatively short term contract. Their loyalty is to themselves, not the act. At most their loyalty is to the company. But that’s not how it works in the agency world. If you can construct a roster, you don’t want to give it up. People wash out of the agency business, but if you make it, you’re in it forever. And if you jump agencies, usually most of your clients come with you. This is so different from the labels.

And Chuggy kept on saying that the labels had no money. And if something worked, they took all the credit…BUT HE TOOK ALL THE MONEY!

This is the world the agents and promoters are working in. The new world. The revolution already happened in their sphere. Napster, piracy…they’re all in the rearview mirror. Agents and promoters are the A&R guys now.

Yup, it’s agents who are out in the clubs til all hours. And they sign a few bands and they use their leverage to get opening slots and if there’s no reaction…they’re dropped. You don’t want a label, you want an AGENT! Hell, sometimes the Agency Group signs acts that not only don’t have a label, they don’t even have a manager! The Agency Group helps them get one.

And Neil said the label’s priorities are different. And they’re more about no than yes. Neil will get word that promoters are willing to book an act in a territory, but the label will say no, they’ll utter something about not having a release date, or being between singles. Neil talks to the acts and they go anyway. You see you want to put in your time, you want to build something.

Chuggy said acts oftentimes lose money on their first three tours. It’s not only the promoter who’s operating in the red. They come without their favorite amps, their cherished roadies, they humbly appear Down Under with something to prove. And if they’ve got it, they make it.

And there was a lot of language about loyalty. To not only the act, but each other.

You see there’s no time limit on the relationship between act and agent. No intellectual property that keeps the act there. You’ve not only got to be honest, you’ve got to produce. But sometimes it does end. Usually, you know, at least that’s what Neil said…someone else can do a better job. And Chuggy said the same thing. That he did five tours with Chris Isaak, the last was a loser, he passed on the next one and someone else took it and it was Chris’s biggest tour in Australia ever. But that’s o.k., Chuggy had lost the passion.

And it is all about passion. Chuggy was loath to do Pearl Jam in stadiums. But he took on the job, made it an event and sold a boatload of tickets. Then again, Chuggy is a promoter. That’s what a promoter does, promote. He’s not just a bank.

And Chuggy was incredibly knowledgeable about the new world. He said he didn’t know sixty percent of the acts he promoted, he listened to the young ‘uns in his employ, but he saw the formation of new entities, run by artists, with those providing label-like functions doing it for very little money. Just like Zeppelin flipped the deal to 90/10, with the act getting the lion’s share of the money, expect the same to happen with recorded music.

And Warnock said the recorded music was a souvenir. Whether you bought it at the show or at home thereafter. It was to help you remember.

This is where the rubber meets the road. Onstage.

And there you can’t do it alone. You do need a team. Both agent and promoter. It’s a dirty business, but you’ve got to trust those you work with. They’ve got to have relationships. And when you start out, everyone’s taking a risk.

Remember who did you a solid, who invested in you, who lost money.

Because they certainly do.

Neil Warnock

Michael Chugg