There was an interesting piece in the "New York Times" asking whether it was more important to win a Grammy or appear on the telecast.  In other words, do you remember who won Album of the Year or do you remember Pink flying high in the sky? 

Grammys’ Weight Is Now Measured in Face Time

For those expressing displeasure with the Grammy telecast, I remind you that we no longer live in a monoculture.  It was a very brief period, two decades at most, when mainstream and alternative merged, when MTV dictated the hits and radio fell in line behind.  But now, you get to choose what you want to listen to from a plethora of choices.  So if you tune in a telecast like this you’re dumbfounded.  Who are these people?  Does anybody really care?

Beyonce prancing.  Black Eyed Peas marching.  Eminem and two guys you’ve never heard of ranting.  Is this music?  What kind of hole have we fallen down?

Relax.  To say the Grammys are a reflection of music today is akin to saying what airs on NBC defines America.  It doesn’t.  People have more passion for niche channels like Discovery than those trying to appeal to everybody networks.

But there’s a limited channel universe.  And the networks bought up the niche channels.  What’s going on in the music business?

Chaos.

What’s ironic is that NARAS was the ultimate niche operation.  What I mean by this was there was a category for every genre, it delved deep into music some were passionate about, but few cared about, which is exactly what’s happening today.  But the TV show is the opposite of this.  With fewer awards given and only the most mainstream acts featured.  Now is the time for NARAS to flourish.  But beholden to the old major label structure that is crumbling, NARAS is teetering too.  Overspending while membership is declining.  Isn’t this like trying to get people to buy albums on CD when you can cherry-pick the desirable singles on Napster?

But leading would require vision.  And NARAS has none.

But who gives a shit about NARAS anyway.

I’ll say that I was impressed with the Michael Jackson tribute.  No, not his kids, who certainly aren’t his biologically, and acquitted themselves quite well, but the performances…  Everybody could sing!  Could almost make you a Celine Dion fan.  Especially after experiencing Taylor Swift.

How awful was she?

Dreadful.

"Fearless" deserved to win Album of the Year.  I was glad it did.  Scuttlebutt was it was DMB’s year, but to say "GrooGrux" is good is to be a tie-dyed hippie hanging out in the parking lot before a show that features great playing but mediocre material.  "GrooGrux" sold to a small coterie, most people don’t care.  But Taylor Swift is as mainstream as you can get.  Triumphing in two formats.  Speaking her truth to her audience.  I love "Fearless".  You can play it from start to finish, again and again, it’s honest.  But last night’s performance…

Do you remember Billy Squier’s pink video?  Which killed his career overnight?  Take a peek:

Billy Squier "Rock Me Tonite"

What was a hard rocker doing prancing around in a pink tank top?  What was a neophyte artist doing sharing a stage with a legend who made it before auto-tune, before studio tricks could make anybody a singer?

I don’t need to analyze the performance.  (Hell, what I don’t get is how Taylor rearranged her own hit song.) But what I am interested in is the impact.  Because now, everybody knows that Taylor Swift can’t sing.  Is this what they’ll remember?

Now unlike Billy Squier’s pink video, there won’t be endless repetition on MTV.  And one can question how much of the target audience saw this performance.  But the cognoscenti did, and to what degree do they now want to distance themselves from Ms. Swift?

In other words, did Taylor Swift kill her career overnight?

I’ll argue she did.  Oh, I’m not fully convinced of that, but let’s start from this position.

She’ll be even further hated in Nashville (and what kind of fucked up world do we live in where the CMAs are better than the Grammys?)  I’d love to say whored out Top Forty radio stations will ignore her, but this is doubtful, still…

In one fell swoop, Taylor Swift consigned herself to the dustbin of teen phenoms.  Who we expect to burn brightly and then fade away.  From New Kids On The Block to Backstreet Boys to Miley Cyrus.  A wall is created, stating you can’t come any further.  Debbie Gibson can appear in shows on Broadway, but she can’t have a hit record, the powers-that-be won’t let it happen.

Taylor’s too young and dumb to understand the mistake she made.  And those surrounding her are addicted to cash and are afraid to tell her no.  But last night Taylor Swift SHOULD have auto-tuned.  To save her career.

They say it’s easy to fake it in the twenty first century.

But one thing we know is the truth will always come out.

It’s hard to be a singer if you can’t sing.

Ultimately, we want our stars to be genuine.  Without this credibility, your time atop the charts is brief.

Taylor Swift shortened her career last night.  And since she says she calls all her own shots, she has to shoulder the blame.  Yes, her dream came true, she made it, she’s a star, but the real test is longevity.  Elton John can play with GaGa decades later.  Will Taylor Swift be duetting with the stars of the 2030s?  Doubtful.

The freeways were designed in the fifties.  As they were overrun by cars in the decades that followed, glaring design flaws were revealed.  If I’m getting off and you’re getting on, and we’re supposed to cross, don’t you expect this to create problems?

But that’s the way it is on the eastbound 10 at La Cienega.

The system is riddled with mistakes like this.

They finally fixed the interchange of the 405 and the 101, where there were so many cars going in so many directions that traffic was backed up all the way to Mulholland, even on weekends, long after rush hour.

But there are still unfixed fuck-ups.  Like the interchange of the 405 and the 10.  It’s bad enough trying to go from the 405 South to the 10 East, but it’s equally bad going from the 10 East to the 405 North.  Because just where you’re supposed to merge onto the northbound freeway, there’s another entrance, from Pico.  So you end up backed up, suspended on this slab of concrete far above the ground, waiting to merge onto the 405, even when traffic on the 405 itself is moving.

There’s quite a vista.  From downtown to the beach.  Makes you proud to live in L.A.  When you can see, of course…  But smog is lighter on the Westside.

And someone taught me a trick.  Even if I’m coming from Santa Monica, I should drive to the Pico entrance, it gets precedence, you can save five or ten minutes.  But I felt this was unnecessary on a Saturday afternoon at 3 PM.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

And there’s nothing you can do.  You can see the cars suspended on the overpass in front of you, but there’s no off ramp, you’re gonna drive right into traffic and end up suspended too, wasting time.

And after applying the brakes, inching forward a few feet at a time, I started pushing the satellite buttons.  Every song was wrong, nothing sounded good.  Until I got to "Kandi", by One Eskimo.

IT FELT SO FUCKING GREAT TO BE ALIVE!

Strasburg hipped me to One Eskimo.  I got it when he e-mailed me late last year.  But trapped in my car, I fully understood it.  This track had all the power of the songs of yore.  It wasn’t about crafting a hit, but a track so in the pocket that your body turned into Gumby, you were bending in places where angles were never created, you were infected with sound, your only desire was to hear the song AGAIN!

That’s the essence of music.  Good enough ain’t worth shit.  It’s got to be GREAT!  Especially in the Internet era, where something better is just a click away.

So dial up "Kandi".  Let it wash over you, let it infect you.  And damned if when it’s done you don’t need to hear it again!

Google "One Eskimo".  "Kandi" is the first track that comes up in the player.  Click on it.  Turn up the music loud enough to robustly fill your speakers, your room, your ears.

The lights turned on and the curtain fell down…

The first Crosby, Stills & Nash album was such a phenomenon, entered the consciousness of listeners to such a degree, that there was a huge hunger for more.  And there was more.  An album entitled "Retrospective", the greatest hits of Buffalo Springfield.

Beloved today, Buffalo Springfield was known at the time for their one infectious, haunting hit, "For What It’s Worth".  Hell, you’ve got to love an act that titles a track with words not in the lyrics…  And with Stills the star of CSN, people were thrilled to now know "Rock and Roll Woman", that was the track buyers of "Retrospective" gravitated to.  But in an era predating MP3s, never mind CDs and cassettes, you eventually ended up dropping the needle on the vinyl and listening to the side all the way through.  That’s how we discovered "Broken Arrow", hell, that’s how we discovered Neil Young.

Friday evening, Neil Young was feted at the annual MusiCares dinner, a clusterfuck that raises money for a good cause and features two hours of performances that…usually have some highlights and feature some distinct lowlights that allow one to go to the bathroom to do a year’s worth of business with the people you run into.

It’s just that Friday night’s performances were consistently subpar.  Until we got to Norah Jones.

Johnny Mellencamp rearranged "Down By The River", squeezing the driving essence right out of the song.

Ozomatli?  There’s a story there somewhere.  That’s what I think of when I listen to Canadian Neil Young’s songs, this Los Angeles Latino music.  Huh?

My beloved Jackson Browne was so busy looking at the teleprompter that I couldn’t forgive him for missing "Don’t Let It Bring You Down" by only a few inches.  I could have gotten up and sung every lyric of the classic from "After The Gold Rush".  Do you remember lying on your bed in your dorm room playing this song over and over again?  If not, you weren’t in college in the seventies.

Stephen Stills and Sheryl Crow performed "Long May You Run".  Funny, considering this is the album Stephen cut with Neil, booked a tour, and then got a telegram in Florida telling him that the dark-haired maestro decided to punt.  I don’t know about you, I live up to my commitments. It’s hard to forgive that shit.  Then again, the older you get, the more you need money, and the more you’ll overlook to get it.

Needless to say, Stills’ voice is now lacking.  But Lady Antebellum sang just fine, a high school assembly rendition of "Only Love Can Break Your Heart", although this is much better than their own distinctly B-level material.

Then came Norah Jones.  On her guitar, her honeyed voice brought vitality to "Tell Me Why". Unlike those who came before, she added insight that was not in the original.  But she kept peeking at the teleprompter.

Which was a giant TV at the back of the hall, there for anybody to see.  Hell, at least Jack Black, the host, went off-script on a regular basis.  The acts?  They could barely perform the delineated lyrics.

Until Wilco.

When Wilco came on, the prompter went black.  And suddenly, they went into MR. SOUL!

I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.  Because how many high school days did I hear that classic intro to "Broken Arrow"?  This was a signal, from the midwest band to those in attendance who were truly Neil Young fans that music was a serious business, with history that needed to be studied and respected.

James Taylor fucked up "Heart Of Gold", I wish he hadn’t even come.  You don’t know the lyrics?  You could see him peeking up during the verses at the big TV, at first he seemed to be playing a different song.

But Wilco…

It was like you were in a theatre, and the band was giving it its all.  They’d rehearsed, they knew "Broken Arrow", they’d made it their own, their performance was a tour de force.  They nailed the twists and turns, got the dynamics just right, even did the OUTRO!

Wasn’t this supposed to be a tribute to Neil?  Weren’t we supposed to give him respect? Weren’t we supposed to tell him he mattered?

These songs were in the DNA of the audience, but the performers could barely go through the motions.

Except Wilco.

I loved "Being There".  Then they lost me.  Now I get it.  This is why their fans proselytize, go to the shows, because they play like they mean it, like music alone is enough, that it’s not about how you can sell out to major corporations so you can live a Wall Street lifestyle.

Yeah, I know that Jeff Tweedy made that deal.  But what I like more is the reaction of their fans. Don’t expect him to take commercial risks in the future…your audience believes in you, trusts you, you must respect that.

I saw the Buffalo Springfield.  In those days, there were no sponsors.  The Fortune 500 ran. Music was dangerous.  Neil Young knows the truth, that these companies themselves are dangerous.  And that an artist has to march forward and explore unencumbered.  Hell, he held up a sign during the show telling the performers to "Just do what you want to do.  Don’t listen to anyone else."

That’s the key.  To go on your own journey.  Not the one people want you to.  Hell, did you read all the negative reviews of "Catcher In The Rye" in the Salinger obits?  Even the "New York Times" panned it.  Unfortunately, the blowback contributed to Salinger’s pullback from society. We lost out, because the powers-that-be needed to tear him down, make him their size.

Thank god Neil Young never succumbed to this.  He’s the poster boy for doing it your own way. And that’s why CSN’s business blows up when he performs with them, and he can go out solo to great business and the rest of the players cannot.  Because we believe…  That Neil Young is giving his all.

Friday night Wilco gave their all.  And that’s why their fans believe in them just like oldsters believe in Mr. Young.  Punch the clock and people know.  Sing from the heart, take your music seriously and the audience knows.  Jeff Tweedy wasn’t distracted by looking at the teleprompter, the words were embedded deep inside, just like they are in us.

Falafel King.  On Broxton.  In Westwood.  That’s where we met.

And I couldn’t help feeling it was part of Warner’s austerity program.

Lyor flies United.  Coach.  Sure, he uses his miles to upgrade to business, but there are no black cars at Warner anymore, Jet Blue is the company airline, you see the music business is in the middle of a storm, and Warner’s battened down the hatches, is doing its best to sail through.

One thing you can’t argue with is Warner’s increased market share.  Sure, Universal is still the behemoth, but Warner is growing its piece of the pie.  As for overall revenues?

Well, Lyor hopes they go up.  He spent the morning at Cricket, looking at their mobile music model.  He said the interface was fantastic.  And that a music fee was just going to be added on to the bill of these customers without contracts.

I’ll have to wait to see it.

But I must say, Lyor was not unfamiliar with the issues.

He spoke of transparency.  We needed it.  A manager, an act should be able to log on every day and see where their music was streamed, what they got paid.  Is this ready today?  No.  Is this in the near future?  No.  But Lyor said it was inevitable.  Trust must be reestablished.

Trust and magnificence.  That’s a word Lyor uses quite a bit.  He doesn’t want to release good music, but MAGNIFICENT music.  Fewer artists doing it incredibly well.  How long it takes them to break?

He doesn’t believe in the old model, of balls to the wall, hype it in every medium ad infinitum.  His philosophy is more akin to Paul Masson’s…  Didn’t Orson Welles claim that no wine would be sold before its time?  Lyor believes you’ve got to be wary of the backlash, of burning your act out before it gets its start.

You’ve got to invest, develop, wait for that magic moment, the track that will put the act over the top.

Like Jay-Z.

Lyor paid 5 mil for the Jay-Z album because of what the rapper told him.  That this was the first album Jay didn’t cut to a schedule.  The tracks came together organically, this was the record Jay wanted to make, was ready to make.  Sure, Lyor heard a few cuts before he made the commitment, but he didn’t hear "Empire State Of Mind".  But he trusted Jay.

But how do you get paid in the future?  Lyor referenced a meeting with Prince, who was as concerned about this as Bono, not for himself, but acts coming up.

Lyor believes there’s no bump coming in the future, no CD replacement business about to blow the business up.  But he hopes that cloud computing will deliver increased revenue.  If it doesn’t?

Well, Lyor’s already making 50/50 deals.  He anticipates more if recorded music income doesn’t increase.  He wants to be partners with the acts.  For a long time.  In 360 degrees of revenue.

Sure, Warner missed out on a few deals, deciding not to overpay for one hit wonders.  For two years, Lyor felt a bit in the wilderness.  Truly, scoping the hinterlands for acts that would be willing to sign a 360 deal.  But now everybody realizes this is the future.  But is every company prepared to play in the new world?

Warner cut $400 million in overhead almost overnight.  Sure, this entailed firing a bunch of people.  Like the 52 year old promotion man.  What was he going to do now?  Lyor expressed compassion, contrary to his cutthroat reputation.

Then again, maybe Lyor is cutthroat.  As in running a gang, that he will defend to the limit.  If you’re on Lyor’s team…

And who’s on his team?

Rob Cavallo.  Lyor speaks with him thirty times a day.  It’s important to guide talent.  To ask questions, raise issues, express the parameters, to ultimately get not only what you want, but to satisfy the talent too.  People like to know where they’re going.

But what impressed me most was the story Lyor told of going to the second floor of his townhouse and cranking the vinyl to the max and leaning forward, into the music.

All this talk about TV syncs, commercials, video games…  In all those media music is in the background, you experience it leaning back.  Music needs to be up front and center, people need to experience the magic!

I couldn’t agree more.

The record Lyor was playing for his girlfriend?

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.

Yes, you might see him as the hip-hop maven.  I was surprised this was the record he was playing.  But great records affect you this way…  It’s not about bumping asses in the club, it’s about wanting to get closer, to feel it, to get inside.

Does Lyor mangle the language?

Absolutely.  He repeatedly talked how bosses "incent" him.  I could have corrected him, but I got the point, so why.

And if I made points he didn’t get, Lyor said so.  As in, he was not afraid to appear less than knowledgeable.

As for that exorbitant compensation?  Lyor believes he earned it.  He’s put in 100,000 hours.  He increased market share.  What’s the value of that?

Yes, Lyor believes in himself.  And his confidence is infectious.  If you’re an act, looking to make a deal.  He appears to be living in reality.  When all the press about the major labels is they wish the nineties would come back.  Lyor knows the twentieth century is history.  It’s about finding out how to make it work now.

Now the last time I got together with Lyor, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.  On one hand, I dreaded today’s meeting.  Because I can only listen for so long. But this was different.  This was a conversation.  Hell, I told him if we were going to the cloud, why not blow out MP3s today, no one’s going to want them in the future, just like no one wants cassettes.  He thought that was an interesting idea.  Maybe they should.

And he told me a lot of shit that I can’t repeat here.  Not because the stories were so juicy, but because they exposed the blind spots of his competitors.

Did Lyor close me?

I’ll say that he’s akin to Michael Rapino.  They’re cut from the same cloth as Steve Jobs.  You sit there, listening, and they convince you.  They call Steve Jobs’ web the "reality distortion field".  Is Rapino distorting reality?  Well, maybe he’s juiced up, high not on alcohol, but the adrenaline it takes to tackle Live Nation’s problems, but he understands those problems, he realizes Live Nation’s job is to find innovative ways to sell more tickets, to partner with acts to grow revenue.  Anybody can put on a show.  But can you do more?  As for Lyor…  It’s hard to argue with two things…  Warner’s aforementioned increase in market share and the fact that Warner derives a larger percentage of its revenue from digital than any other major record label.

Hell, the challenge used to be distribution, how do you get the record in the store, how do you get paid.  But those were the old days.  Today, you’ve got to convince an act that you’ll stick by it, not pressure it to take short cuts, to take the easy way out for short term revenue, all the while encouraging them, guiding them to create that one breakthrough event, whether it be a single or a live show, but whatever it is, certainly rooted in music.

Do you want to make a deal with Lyor?

Well, he doesn’t want to waste money.  It’s not only the cash involved in acts you drop, but the man hours, the opportunity cost, he wants to get it right.

I think he could close you.

Did he close me?

All I can say is I had no need to argue with him.  He showed up on time, stunning me, I haven’t had this experience with a major exec in memory, and he listened to me and agreed with my take on the reality of the business.  Like the fact that the average customer is hungry for music, but doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t know what to play.

We’ve got to create great music and lead people to it.  Point out the CSNYs of today.  Hell, grow the CSNYs of today.  It’s the only way out.  The old way, of spending lavishly to jam crap down people’s throats…that’s history.