The media talked about Dick Clark.

The people talked about Levon Helm.

He didn’t do it to become famous, certainly not rich. His parents didn’t buy him the best equipment available, they didn’t dun everybody they came in contact with, saying how great a player he was and he deserved to make it, no, Levon Helm followed his muse, the music, to the point his death impacted a spectrum of people from the barely-pubescent to the nearly-deceased, that’s how good he was.

There’s no direct career path in music. It’s not like becoming a doctor, a lawyer or an engineer. It’s not about dotting i’s and crossing t’s, it’s not about going through the motions, it’s about living on your wits, making your own opportunities after you’ve developed the skills. As to whether you hit a dead end or become a superstar, the outcome is not entirely in your hands. But to succeed you’ve got to get in the game. You can’t become a doctor if you don’t spend all your time being an intern and a resident and you can’t become a famous musician unless you’ve got no other interests.

History tells us Levon Helm played with Ronnie Hawkins, as a member of the Hawks.

What it doesn’t tell those who didn’t live through that period was that Ronnie Hawkins meant little in the U.S. But it was while backing up Ronnie that Levon encountered the rest of what ultimately became the Band.

There’s that opportunity thing again. You make your own luck. You can’t be sitting at home, dreaming of hooking up with a songwriter as good as Robbie Robertson, you’ve got to be in the mix, life is a game of chance.

And that’s what led the Band from the wilderness to backing up Bob Dylan.

Think about this, you’re the drummer in a five-piece band that can’t cut a hit on your own and you end up supporting someone who made his hits without you, and has a long string of them.

But here’s where opportunity hit again.

Because Bob Dylan was managed by Albert Grossman. In an era where your manager was everything. Possibly, it still is. Albert Grossman jump-started Dylan’s career with covers by his client Peter, Paul & Mary, he used his power to get the Band a deal with Capitol Records, an almost moribund label in an era where Warner Brothers was king.

But then the Band delivered "Big Pink".

There were no singles. "The Weight" didn’t burn up the chart. But in a time where people devoted themselves to albums, "Big Pink" paid dividends. In an era before MTV, it didn’t matter how you looked, just how you played.

And boy could these guys play.

It was an earthy sound. Almost rural. The Band’s music hearkened back to the past, but there was almost nothing like it in 1968. If you’re great, being unique is an asset.

Then came "The Band".

I’ll tell you my favorite track from that album is the last, "King Harvest (Has Surely Come)". My friend Brad dropped the needle on it one Sunday night on the bottom floor of his parents’ split level and I was closed immediately. It’s like I was hearing a voice from the nineteenth century, and the supporting instruments helped tell the story.

"King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" was sung by Richard Manuel. My favorite unknown Band song, "Twilight", was sung by Rick Danko. Maybe if they died in the heyday of the Internet, their passings would echo as much as that of Levon’s. You see that’s what the Band was, a band. Every player an integral element. We loved Levon, but we loved the group even more.

But it was on that second album that Levon truly shined.

My favorite?

"Rag Mama Rag"!

That string intro, so infectious!

And Levon singing like he’s half-drunk, having the time of his life.

Hail stones beatin’ on the roof
The bourbon is a hundred proof
It’s you and me and the telephone
Our destiny is quite well known
We don’t need to sit and brag
All we gotta do is
Rag mama rag, mama rag

This bridge puts the track over the top. It all sounds like so much FUN! The legacy of the Band is seriousness, but there was joy too. That’s what being a musician is all about, the fun, the experiences, when done right it makes you richer than anybody on Wall Street.

And of course Levon sang the Band’s breakthrough one and only hit, "Up On Cripple Creek" and the song that Joan Baez ultimately brought to mainstream public consciousness, "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down", but he also sang "Jemima Surrender", which I love even more.

The Band were now stars.

And so was their drummer. In an era where the guy behind the kit, powering the band, almost never was. He didn’t have a classically trained voice, it wasn’t purty, it couldn’t win a TV singing contest, but it could convey the human condition seemingly better than anybody’s in rock.

And "The Band" was the peak.

But "Stage Fright" was not that much of a denouement.

And although Levon didn’t dominate as much as he had previously, he sang co-lead on "The W.S. Walcott Medicine Show". And that’s what a touring band is, a medicine show, selling you what you need via smoke and mirrors, a well-honed act.

And of course, there was the live album, "Rock Of Ages", but the Band could never quite recapture the magic. It was disappointing. But they burned so brightly, maybe they burned themselves out.

And then Robbie broke up the band.

Levon acted.

The band reformed.

He got cancer.

He played again, creating a medicine show of his own.

And then he expired.

Whew, THAT’S A LIFE!

Full of happiness, anger, joy and regret. That’s what happens when you play…sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but you never want to give up the game.

It’s astounding that Robbie and Levon connected at the end. Usually bitterness triumphs in rock and roll.

Then again, it’s all about the music.

And despite Levon moving on, those great records he was a part of still remain. Push play and you’ll find he’s still fully alive.

Who knew he was going to be immortal?

Certainly not Levon himself.

You can’t see the end from the beginning.

But if you just start, you have the possibility of going on an amazing journey.

And in this case, we were along for the magic ride.

We miss you already Levon.

Dan Lyons wrote a brilliant analysis of the Facebook’s purchase of Instagram in "Newsweek".

Bottom line, the web is dead. We live in a mobile world. And Facebook didn’t have a decent app. Rather than try and convince everybody to go back to the past, to keep surfing on full-sized computers, Zuckerberg bought Instagram, which had a great app, despite having no present profits, he didn’t want to be left out of the future.

Do you want to be left out of the future?

Do you still buy CDs, print books, do you still believe landlines are best?

Then you’re already in the rearview mirror.

The iPad is killing the laptop. People no longer bother to bring computers on the road. And the smartphone population will soon exceed the number of PCs. Are you ready?

The MP3 is just about history. Only old farts like the RIAA bother to combat illicit acquisition of them. We live in a streaming world. Let me ask you, do you have enough storage in your smartphone to hold your entire music collection? Hell, they still sell an iPod Classic, but the big seller is the iPod Touch, which has much less storage, and most people buy the basic iPhone with minimal storage.

We’re moving to an access world.

Are you ready?

And in this world, it’s not about making a splash, but being a lake.

Everybody wants their YouTube clip to go viral. Virality is a thing of the past. It’s worse than a one hit wonder. It doesn’t even last that long. Talk about Kony recently? How about that guy whose guitar was crushed by…what airline was that again? If his career got a bounce, it was momentary.

And then there’s that band that replicated Gotye’s hit and got on "Ellen"… I can’t even remember their name!

As for Gotye himself, he’s been in the game for years. And the only way his touring numbers will maintain is if people listen to his past work and believe it has merit.

If you’re in search of a hit, you’re playing it wrong. You want to be on reality TV, you’re gonna be history almost instantly.

It’s harder than ever to last.

But people do.

And not only do they work hard, develop skills, they survey the landscape, they envision where opportunity will arise.

If you read Malcolm Gladwell’s "Outliers", and most people trumpeting the fact that they’ve put in 10,000 hours have not, you know that timing/environment is everything. You can do the same exact thing and in one era you can starve and another you can be a billionaire.

Microsoft was so busy doing everything, they couldn’t do one damn thing right. They’re kings in computer application software, what will this mean in the future? A lot less. Especially when Google Docs is free.

In a world where most apps are free, musicians complain that people are stealing their music or Spotify doesn’t pay much. They can’t see the future. One in which just getting people to check you out is the most difficult task.

Concert promoters charge ever more for live shows, to the point where concerts have become special events. Going to hear live music is akin to going to legitimate theatre. An overpriced, once a year event. And once the classic rockers pass…THEN WHAT?

Imagine if the record labels had made a deal with Napster, they would have profited for years instead of lost money.

Imagine if musical acts knew that no one listened to albums, they’d stop wasting so much money and time and release only great singles, or a constant stream of product, letting the public spread the word on what it decides is good…

Imagine if acts stopped trying to get on the dying Top Forty radio, sounding like everybody else, but were unique and built their own audience… THEN THEY COULD TOUR FOREVER!

This business is run by baby boomers so wedded to the past that they can’t see the future. They believe in radio, physical media and getting a big corporation to pay when innovators raise money on Kickstarter, obligated not a whit to anyone, and electronic music never gets airplay and dominates the touring arena.

Do you want to get left behind?

Do you think the past was better and wish we could go back there?

Then you’ve just signed your death warrant.

We live in an attention economy. Where the most important element is access. If you’re not available to everybody at a very low price, if not free, you’re destined for the scrapheap.

And in an era where we’re on information overload, only the incredible takes hold and survives.

So, unless you’re incredible, go to work at 7-11, go to work for the government, play it safe. Because everybody wants to be in entertainment and the landscape is littered with people who made it once and can no longer play, never mind the never-beens.

You make an album and spam "tastemakers" with MP3s and complain you can’t get noticed.

You’re doing it wrong.

But you’re not the only one.

Instagram Will Take Facebook Into the Mobile Age-
The pc is dead. Long live mobile

"Wheels Within Wheels"
Rory Gallagher

I heard this on the satellite on the ride home from Palm Springs and it was so right, so in the pocket, that it’s never left my mind.

Rory Gallagher was doomed by being on Polydor, a second-rate label. I saw him open for Blind Faith with his band Taste, then he went solo, but never broke through. But if he didn’t drink himself to death, he’d be on a victory lap right now.

You don’t learn how to play this well overnight. You pay your dues. And your facility with the instrument translates. Come on, listen to these licks, they speak to your head and heart, they make your body writhe.


"Never Stop"
Jackson Browne

Sure, the lyrics are good, but this track is all about the groove, and the change. This is one time where Jackson plays with a band and it works, it’s better than the live solo acoustic rendition that was released a handful of years later.

Listen to the guitar accents. Hear how the band is locked into the groove.

But most of all, hang in there until the change at 3:55. It’s unexpected, you just think the song’s gonna repeat until the end…

Remember when you look into my eyes
I’m the one who took you by surprise
The time has come and gone and come back ’round again
And I’m still here to take you by surprise my friend

Relationships pay dividends. Hit and run can be fun, but when you hang in there with someone you get to fall back in love with them. It’s spontaneous, the b.s. drops away, you remember why you loved them to begin with, with a twist. It’s a look, it’s a feeling, it’s magic.

Show me your eyes, tell me again
Where you want to go
Now the night is glowing beneath your skin
And when you smile I’m the richest man I know

That’s true wealth. Being in a relationship.

"Get Up Jonah"
Bruce Cockburn

Music, when done right, instantly takes you away, deposits you in a place no other artistic medium can.

Whenever I hear "Get Up Jonah" I picture myself walking down the street in a new city, energized and aware.

I woke up thinking about Turkish drummers
Didn’t take long – I don’t know much about Turkish drummers
But it made me think of Germany and the guy who sold me cigarettes who’d been in the Afghan secret police
Who made the observation
That it’s hard
To live

Whew! Wisdom!

It’s like you’re in a bar in a foreign country and you run into an English-speaking denizen who starts telling his tale and all you can be is mesmerized. He’s not telling you he knows everything, he’s just laying out his story, but you’re impressed, because life is about living, and this person has…and the more adventures you have, the more you know, and the less sure you are of everything.

And ain’t that how it always is in a dream. Random, vivid connections.

And the lyrics are insightful, but the groove is wonderful!

You can play "Get Up Jonah" for anybody and they’ll get it.

"I Wanna Go To Marz"
John Grant

And they say there’s no good new music…

If this doesn’t remind you of lying on your bedroom floor, stoned, listening to great classic rock on headphones, you never did.

With everybody trying to crowd the hit parade it’s exciting to find someone doing it his own way…and succeeding.

"Country Doctor"
Bruce Hornsby & The Noisemakers

There’s a studio take of this, but this live version is better.

The improvisation is inviting, but it’s when Bruce starts pounding the riff a little after a minute in that you and he lock on to the groove. This is jam band music at its best. Not noodling, but expansion upon an underlying theme.

Imagine being at the gig, you wouldn’t be able to keep your body still. Hell, it’s almost impossible at home!

"The Song Of Purple Summer"
"Spring Awakening"

My introduction to music was show tunes, the Original Broadway Cast, my mother used to spin those records ad infinitum, I came to love them, I know every note.

And too many modern musicals lack memorable music.

But this hearkens back to "Hair" and that movie musical, "Fame". The vocals are mixed right up front, changes are important, a mood is set.

This is not hip, but that’s what’s wrong with the mainstream today, it’s an echo chamber, and everybody is desirous of getting inside, but the true rewards are outside.

If you’re too hip to like this, you’re too hip for me.

"Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone)"
Glass Tiger

How many years has it been since you’ve heard this?

But admit it, not only do you know every lick, you like it! It’s a minor pop masterpiece, it’s like spending an afternoon at an amusement park, and Bryan Adams’s vocal is worth the price of admission, hell, pay attention at 2:35.

"Still Feels Good"
Rascal Flatts

AND IT DOES!

It’s almost like Skynyrd, when you hear the vocal imploring you to COME ON, you turn your head, drop your laundry and RUN to the sound!

Forget everything you know about modern country music, forget your preconceived notion of Rascal Flatts, just LISTEN!

That old t-shirt you wear to bed
Hangin’ off your shoulders by a thread
The one you ripped off me when we first met
Still feels good

Sharing clothes. It happens early in a relationship, and randomly thereafter, and when it does, it puts a smile upon your face. On a cold morning, when Felice dons my Two Elk fleece, I smile on the inside.

And she sleeps in a t-shirt. The softer and rattier the better. We’re attached to our garments, they’re our blankies, even though we’re no longer infants.

That old familiar song blarin’ from my car
We know every note, every word by heart
Puts a smile on your face ’cause you know it’s ours
And it still feels good

Come on, you know this feeling! Of cruising down the highway, wind blowing in your hair with no words being said, both of you locked on to the track, feeling both centered and ecstatic.

Your fingers hooked around my belt loops

The imagery is simplistic, but it doesn’t bother you, because it’s so in the pocket, it’s so right. Oh come on, if you haven’t put your fingers in her belt loops…you’ve never been with a her or a him, you’re a lonely bastard just waiting for intimacy, the true reward of life.

And the song is a tear, with great changes and piano notes that penetrate, but…

Hang in there, the ride doesn’t truly begin until two minutes in.

You’re ascending the hill of the roller coaster, there’s one more chorus and then the track slows down, you’re cresting the peak, it’s all anticipation, then the train starts to descend, the guitar begins to WAIL!

Really, at the 3:20 mark you’re gonna hear ferocious picking, guitar playing that can measure up to any speed metal band, any classic rocker, it makes you feel so good that your only option is to…

Play it again.

BECAUSE IT STILL FEELS GOOD!

Spotify playlist

Previous Rhinofy playlists

Am I the only one with mixed emotions?

I guess what I hate most is those copycat awards shows, you know, the AMAs and the ACMs. They watered down the essence. They confused the populace.

They were all about the money.

Maybe I was too young for "American Bandstand". Or maybe I was the beneficiary of New York television, with a cornucopia of choices. Dick Clark was not my only way to gain access to youthful entertainment, and from the moment I tuned into his show, it always seemed ersatz.

Yes, I know he broke a few barriers. But if you’re speaking influence, don’t we give more credit to Don Cornelius? With "Soul Train"? A man who truly broke barriers, was true to the music and delivered something that the white mainstream media men shrugged their shoulders at.

Then again, Dick Clark was never about the music. Otherwise, why would he have hosted game shows?

Dick Clark was addicted to fame. And money.

His is a very American story.

The fact that I’m reviewing his life with bittersweet tones proves the point. He made it. We always try to drag down those who rise to the top.

But those at the bottom have no idea how difficult it is to make it. How one-minded you’ve got to be. How you’ve got to sacrifice.

And you’re faced with choices every day. People keep e-mailing me that "Rolling Stone" piece wherein he refers to himself as a "whore". You’ve got a choice, you can do what’s expedient or do what’s right, and they’re not always the same thing. More specifically, you can make the artistic choice or the monetary choice. One leaves your credibility intact, but may cause the spotlight to shine elsewhere.

Then again, Neil Young maintains.

But so does Ryan Seacrest.

I have a dream. One day America will get off its high horse and deem Ryan Seacrest an ass-kissing phony. Something the public knows but the media refuses to acknowledge. He’s smart, but white bread and empty. And his great contribution to the American landscape is the Kardashian TV show. Then again, he’s perfect for the time, where it’s all about money.

But those days are fading. Because most people don’t only have no money, they’ve got no chance of getting any significant sum. Entertainers’ income pales in comparison to that of the corporate titans. So, do you chase the truly rich or try to trump them by playing your own game. In the real world of rock/paper/scissors, art beats money every day of the week.

Even though those playing at the arts will pay penance to money.

Now, more than ever, you don’t need money, but you must be truly great, your art must speak for itself.

Now I don’t want to dismiss everything Mr. Clark was involved in. I was addicted to "Where The Action Is", at least during its inaugural summer season. I’d run home from the baseball field to see my favorite acts.

Then again, once Casey Kasem gained traction, Mr. Clark went into competition with him.

And Dick was vain, and refused to relinquish the spotlight.

That’s when you know someone’s truly narcissistic, empty inside. When they hang on to fame for dear life, as if without the attention, they’re nothing.

But Sean Connery has relinquished the spotlight. Others have aged out and passed the torch. But to do this you have to be well-adjusted, you must be able to laugh at life, you must possess something beyond your notoriety.

Dick Clark wouldn’t let our memories be. He had to go on "New Year’s Rockin’ Eve" with his compromised speech not to illustrate that stroke victims can function, but because he needed the attention.

Some are addicted to fame. It fills up the empty hole inside.

But if you’re not true to one thing, if you dabble in everything, you die and fade away quickly.

Ask someone under twenty who Walter Cronkite was. Even Johnny Carson. Icons once, they’ve been forgotten.

If you want to be remembered, write a great song, make a great movie, the best are evergreens.

But few can accomplish this. For the rest of us, it’s about the ride.

And Dick Clark had one hell of an excursion. He had stories galore. And money to boot. He pursued the American Dream and won.

But what is winning?

And does that dream still hold?

We’ll see what the future brings.

As for Dick himself…

He was a force of nature. Smooth and sunny on the outside, you don’t get that far being nice.

But it was a different era. One of post-war recovery. When everybody was middle class and everybody wanted more, and this could still be accomplished.

And then the sixties happened and everything went topsy-turvy.

They say Dick Clark was part of this tumult.

But it can be easily argued he was on the wrong side.

Limit-testers don’t tend to last long, but their impact is great.

After all these years, with his fame and his money…

Dick Clark’s social impact was not commensurate.

In "Rolling Stone":
"The problem," says Clark, "is that you’re a f___ing idealist, and I’m a whore."

Music: Dick Clark: 20 Years of Clearasil Rock