What kind of crazy f*cked up world do we live in where the most adventurous, most innovative album of the year is made by a Spanish artist singing in a multitude of foreign languages?

One in which everybody in music seems to be going in one direction, doing their best to distill their work to fit the precepts of their chosen genre, and everybody with a profile is afraid of going completely left field for fear of alienating their audience and never recovering.

Then again, how many of these people are truly artists? A lot of the rock and quiet music folks can’t even sing well, that used to be a main criterion of being a professional artist. And you can buy beats, get a ton of digital help such that you create something that might appear professional, but it is lacking the innovation, the nuance, the je ne sais quoi of great art. A left turn, a great leap forward, something that makes the listener question their attitudes and beliefs.

If you pull up “Lux” I doubt you’ll like it right away. You haven’t even heard anything like this before.

And to tell you the truth, I wasn’t going to listen, but Richard Griffiths, whom I trust implicitly when it comes to what is great, what is a hit, said:

“My big discovery this weekend has been Rosalia. Have you listened to her?

“I think she’s amazing!”

To say Rosalía’s is not in Richard’s wheelhouse is an understatement. This is the man who brought Pearl Jam and Rage Against the Machine to the public as the president of Epic Records. I know Richard likes prog, and he was the co-manager of One Direction, but Rosalía?

I knew who she was. I thought I’d seen her at an awards show. But to say I’d been paying close attention, knew her music, would be completely untrue.

So I’m in the back of a car Monday night, catching up on the “Washington Post,” and I come across this article:

“Rosalía made one of the year’s most demanding pop albums. Listen closely. The Spanish pop auteur’s sweeping new album is a test for shrinking digital attention spans.”

The first paragraph says:

“Let’s try to keep calm, because, for all of its ambition and grandeur, this new Rosalía album, ‘Lux,’ demands a sharpened mind more than a blown one. It’s an opaquely themed, scrupulously produced concept record in which the Spanish pop auteur sings about a handful of saints and martyrs in more than a dozen languages, backed by the unmitigated power of the London Symphony Orchestra — a stacking of lavish gestures that Rosalía hopes might help elongate our diminished online attention spans.”

Free link: https://wapo.st/4paOPU9

Now if that does not intrigue you…I guess you never lived through the seventies, which get a bad rap, but the first half of that decade was a fount of creativity and diversity. From Jethro Tull to Joni Mitchell to Led Zeppelin to David Ackles… I could go on, but my point is the acts didn’t feel a need to sound like those who had hits. As a matter of fact, when there became so much money involved that acts did try to game the system, we ended up with corporate rock, which along with formulaic disco killed the record business. The public could smell a rat.

So I pull up “Lux” on my phone and…

The opening cut, “Sexo, Violencia y Llantas,” sounds like an intro/overture, but definitely doesn’t sound like anything else, certainly nothing in the hit parade. The second track, “Reliquia,” is more easily digested, closer to conventional popular music, but it too goes off the rails as it proceeds, as if Taylor Swift suddenly dressed like Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Music” and started singing operatically in the mountains.

And one thing is for sure, Rosalía can sing.

And the next day I wake up to this review of “Lux” in “The New York Times”: 

“Rosalía’s ‘Lux’ Is Operatic. But Is It Opera?”

The headline tells all in this case. The writer’s beat is classical music and opera, the article was not written by the usual pop reviewer, because after all what is this? A pop artist bending genres, testing limits… This guy, Joshua Barone, coughs up some kudos, but ends with some caveats, after all, are we really going to put a lowbrow pop artist in the canon of those who train and take music seriously?

But Rosalía studied at the Catalonia College of Music, she’s not someone who developed her chops solely by listening to Top Forty radio.

And roots go a long way, they’re a springboard for innovation, the basics. In the seventies, said roots were the cornucopia of successful records, which inspired others to deliver their own opuses.

So last night hiking I decided to listen to the entirety of “Lux.”

And it’s different, VERY different. Reminded me of John Cale’s “The Academy in Peril.” Yup, I bought that one. Cale returned to traditional rock with “Paris 1919,” but his first solo album, on Reprise, was instrumental and closer to classical than rock. I bought it. And played it not ad infinitum, but a number of times, to try and get it.

And I did the same thing with “Lux” last night.

Talk about a musical adventure. My head was spinning.

The second time through it started to make more sense. Will you get that far? I don’t think the average person will even listen, and if they do, they’ll stop pretty quickly.

Now in the seventies, an album like this would not be a major seller. But we live in the streaming era, where the barrier to entry is essentially nonexistent, meaning anybody can check out an album. And people are…

If you listen to the press. The hype over the weekend was that “Lux” became the most-streamed album by a Spanish speaking woman.

I hate this sh*t. It’s now like baseball statistics. Parsing the numbers to come up with irrelevant stats. And the funny thing is ultimately they don’t matter, it’s just a way of stroking the ego of the artist involved. However…

Some people are listening to “Lux.” “Berghain” is #18 and rising on the Spotify Global songs chart. And Rosalía is the #5 artist in the Spotify Daily Top Artists Global chart. As for the USA…of course Rosalía is not in the US Top 50 daily chart. Used to be that the USA was the market leader, in every way, the most music consumed, the most innovative acts, Europe was a backwater, when it came to international acts South America/Latin was not even kept in mind, but today… In an era where the tools of production are available to everybody and the gatekeepers are history…

Yes, state radio calcified European music. It didn’t play the outré stuff  so few made it. But today…

For me, “Lux” is the most exciting thing to happen in recorded music this year. Because we’ve got a successful artist pushing the envelope, not for the sake of outrage, to solely get attention, but in pursuit of their own personal creativity.

And Rosalía is thirty three, she’s been around for a while. A break from the barely-pubescent molded by major label committee. I mean if you were unknown and came to a label with this music, the three majors would want no part of you. But with a track record, Rosalía could pursue her own path.

Now the game is different in the streaming era. It’s not about the debut, the launch numbers, but longevity. How long will people continue to listen to “Lux”? I don’t know.

But Rosalía has put a stake in the ground, “Lux” is a beacon for all the supposed artists repeating themselves, putting out tripe, taking baby steps as they use the producers du jour to try and game the charts.

“Lux” is what we need.

Listen to it. You may find it difficult at first. But while you’re doing so, think about the person who created it. Just like with the hit music of yore, you’ll ask yourself HOW DID SHE COME UP WITH THIS?

“Unplugged: Adventures from MTV to Timbuktu”: https://bit.ly/488Y0yH

 

Literally.

This book made me feel inadequate, like I hadn’t lived life to the fullest. Thank god I still have some time left, but I could never catch up.

Now I know Tom Freston. I even know the outline of most of these stories, a bit of depth, but my mind was blown reading all the detail in this book, never have I known such a nice guy to be so successful and get around so much and…

The thing is Tom is down to earth. Possesses no airs. Speaks to you as an equal, and actually speaks to you. He ran the cash machine known as MTV Networks, but when you talked to him it was like connecting with the guy who grew up next door.

Tom is the best corporate manager I’ve ever encountered. He’s not dictatorial, he delegates responsibility, and although he can be serious, he focuses on fun, adventure…

And this book is all about that.

I know the backstory, although I didn’t know his father suffered from PTSD, before we knew what that was, never mind give it a label. Some called it shellshock, but there were a ton of men who on the surface seemed to be living full lives, having families and bringing home the bacon, who were tortured inside as a result of the war.

And going to St. Michael’s, I knew that too…

But I didn’t know about the summer adventures in Lake George. Not only was it a blast, Tom met and became friends with a ton of people. That’s what it takes, getting along, without sacrificing your identity, knowing people…because you’re always going to run into them down the road, when you least expect it, and Tom does.

So to avoid the draft, Tom goes to business school at NYU. What I did not know was he was the valedictorian. Funny how Tom never told me that, since he makes a point of saying that Phillipe Dauman kept on bragging about getting perfect SATs. I hate those people. It’s one of the reasons I live on the west coast. No one asks you what you got on the college boards, where you went to college, you’re just here, you just exist. And attorney Dauman gains power and terminates Tom and ruins Viacom/Paramount, but that’s towards the end of the arc.

So Tom goes into advertising, but gives up when he’s got the chance to work on the Charmin account and a girl he knows calls him from Paris and implores him to quit and come travel with her across the Sahara. Which Tom does. There are people who can’t finish anything. But it’s also a special skill to know when to leave a job, to have faith in yourself.

There begins a year traveling through Europe, Africa and Asia…with a ton of time spent in Afghanistan and India. And you can’t do that anymore, the world is more sophisticated, but Tom did, when it was still wide open and safe.

And then he started a clothing import business.

One of those friends from Lake George inherited some bucks and Tom convinced him to invest and they built a company that ran very profitably, for a number of years. It was much bigger than Tom has ever let on to me, they sold clothing to major department stores like Bloomingdale’s as well as boutiques.

But laws change and it’s no longer profitable and Tom is out of a job and he answers an ad for what ends up being MTV. He’s selling himself. And I knew he had this import business, but I did not know he graduated #1 from NYU… People can smell it. Tom got a gig.

And there begins the MTV ride.

This book is not what I expected. I thought it’d be the in-depth story of MTV, and the bones are there, but the facts, the details have been told multiple times elsewhere. What you’ve got here is the business end of the story, dealing with Viacom, Sumner Redstone acquiring it, taking Sumner and his girlfriend to sex clubs in Thailand at the mogul’s insistence.

There’s a lot of inside dope like that. One of the best being the story of meeting Fidel Castro. Then again, Tom went with Brian Grazer and Les Moonves and Graydon Carter and… I knew Jimmy Buffett, who Tom almost got kidnapped in Africa with, but I don’t hang out with any of these people, yet when you’re with Tom you don’t think that he does either.

There’s more detail about Tom’s tenure at Viacom/Paramount than has been previously made public, and more about dealing with Oprah, Shane Smith/Vice and Bono/Red thereafter. Tom did not take another corporate job when he got blown out. Others would need it for their ego, Tom created a much more fruitful and fulfilling life. Building television stations in Afghanistan?

Now if you know Tom, you should absolutely read this book.

And if you don’t…

As stated above, this is not the story of MTV, but the story of Tom’s life, from soup to nuts, from then until now.

Most execs who write these books are boasting, all the while telling you how you can do it, even though you’re a completely different person.

That’s not what “Unplugged” is. It’s the story of a middle class guy who got bitten by the travel bug and morphed into a corporate executive whilst living in a rock and roll culture (as for MTV, Tom loved music, then again, we all did back then, in a way subsequent generations just cannot understand, music drove the culture) who then got promoted to the point where the status was real, but the pond was poisonous.

It’s the tale of an individual.

Like I said, I felt inadequate reading this book and you may too. Because Tom has been everywhere with seemingly everybody. And it doesn’t happen because he’s busy working the connections, kissing up to get ahead, but because he’s a good executive and a GOOD HANG!

But he’s also a leader. He was the one who got everybody to go to Kabul for New Year’s back in the seventies. Someone’s got to come up with the ideas, someone’s got to be the ringleader, someone’s got to push the needle forward, into the unknown, and Tom did that over and over again.

And, he hired Jill Lumpkin for his clothing company and she’s still in Asia to this day.

And the thing about Lumpkin… She was Tom Rush’s girlfriend, she’s on the cover of “The Circle Game,” he wrote “No Regrets” for her, and Tom discusses with James Taylor…did anything ever happen between the two of them? And it’s just amazing, in a nation of 200 million how one person, who is not famous, can be known by multiple people from different backgrounds, but…

I couldn’t put “Unplugged” down. It’s not the kind of book you can read in an afternoon, it’s deeper and longer than that. It’s a real book, not a typical rock memoir, not an afterthought, a cash-in.

How will you feel about Tom after reading it?

Well, it’s all there…

And if you know Tom, like I do, all you can say is WOW!

They said it wouldn’t make any difference.

So I’m grooving up the 405 and the check engine light comes on.

Now in the old days, there was not such a thing. But as cars started to feature them, it turned out that many times it was just a matter of a loose gas cap. But I knew that was not the case, because I’m anal about these things, I screw the cap down tight… As a matter of fact, it takes all of my willpower not to overtighten things. Like the crown on my watch… Turns out that as long as it’s screwed down at all, it’s waterproof, but I only learned that after I stripped the threads and had to send it in for repair, thank god it was under warranty. And then there was that ski rack back in the sixties, the first one my father bought. He was the least handy man on the planet, so I installed it, very easy, but I kept tightening the nuts and…it still continued to work, but turns out the soft metal was no match for my arm strength.

But I just had the car serviced! I’d only driven a couple of hundred miles, not even that!

Now at this late date the consequences of a check engine light are up in the air. Some people say you can drive for eons with no harm, others say you’re going to burn up the engine, so I decided to drive down to the Subaru dealer where I bring my Saab which is really a Subaru to have them take a look. After all, it was their fault, right?

Back when I owned BMWs… You always had to go back. By time you got the car home from service you noticed a problem. And now I’m always anxious when I pick my car up from service, will it really be fixed? Even worse, will they break something that was fine when I drove in?

And I pull up, expecting instant attention, and they say I’ve got to leave the car… But it gets worse… This was Thursday afternoon, they couldn’t look at it until MONDAY!

Huh?

That’s how successful Subaru now is. #1 in reliability in the latest ratings. However, for me, that’s hard to believe, in my heart Toyota is still the best. But Subarus are selling like hotcakes and although they don’t break the service volume is going up and…

I’m thinking this is ridiculous. But then I contemplate my schedule, if I don’t drop it off now…

And they actually get back to me on Tuesday. Thank god I could drive Felice’s car in the interim. And they tell me I need an oxygen sensor and an air filter.

Actually, the report says “Mass Air Flow Sensor,” that’s the technical term. And they send me pictures and everything. It’s all done by text these days, very efficient. And the Mass Air Flow Sensor/oxygen sensor can be fixed for $383.75. The only problem is my car is so damn old they have to order the part. They’ve got the air filter, but that’s only $39.95.

Of course I say yes. I’m not going to cheap out. I mean if the light came on…

And the car is now supposed to be ready on Friday, which it is, but they do a once-over and now they say two axle boots are cracked and leaking and they can be fixed for $671.82. Do I want to do it?

That’s one thing about owning a Subaru instead of a German car. Subarus are cheap, so the people who own them are usually not rich, so oftentimes they turn down recommendations, either they can’t afford it or they’ll take the risk. And my instinct is to do the repair, and after doing a bit of Googling I find out I’ve got to do it, so I say yes. And they tell me the car will definitely be ready on Monday, ten days after I dropped it off.

Seems reasonable, then again…

So I’m about to do a podcast yesterday and I get a text, the car is ready. I should text them when I’m going to come down.

Which I do, when I’m done with the podcast.

And then Felice takes me down to the dealership… And at this point, I know the service writer, I can tell you about his  marriage, their decision not to have kids, I don’t feel like I’m being ripped-off, and he starts giving me an explanation of the repairs.

Now I don’t doubt their necessity, but I am interested in what went on. I’m an expert on everything that’s broken in a car, primarily because so much broke in my BMW 2002, even the steering wheel.

And although the money is already in the rearview mirror, the question is…should I cashier this car, get a new one?

My Saab 9-2x is 20 years old, last June. It’s only got 125,000 miles on it, but nothing lasts forever. I don’t want to buy a new car, because I drive mine so little and it sits on the street, out in the elements, but I will if I have to. I don’t want to throw away good money, which I did with my BMW 325e, spending $2500 just before I realized I needed a new car. Maybe this is part of the process, maybe you have to spend before you bite the bullet, give up and buy a new car.

And at this point, with recent services, the total bill is close to 3k. Now I’ve lost track of what money is worth. In the old days, 3k…if that was the repair estimate you’d buy a new car! But today, car prices have gone through the roof. And I always rationalize it by the amount of a lease payment. I’m not going to lease, but if I did, how many months would it take to get my money back. And at this point even a reasonable lease is $750, so if I can drive the car for five months, I’m even. Never mind the money I save on registration and insurance. And the last time I did this, I needed to drive the car for a year to break even, and I was anxious, but the car didn’t need anything but oil changes for five years, so I ended up way ahead of the game.

But now the car is twenty years old.

So what’s up with the axle boots?

Turns out this car has eight.

WHAT?

I’m adding the figures up in my mind. Rubber doesn’t last forever. You see very few decades-old cars on the road, this is why.

But then the advisor tells me not to worry, because these two axle boots  failed because of the heat. They’re on either side of the differential, right by the engine. And if I didn’t fix them, then the differential would go next.

But since it’s a four wheel drive car, there’s another differential in the back, what about that?

Well, there’s no heat back there, so I should be good.

So what else is wrong with the car? And he swears nothing, absolutely nothing, but you never know about tomorrow.

And there are people who drive cars 200 or 300,000 miles. My car is a baby by those standards. But age…just like people, cars don’t last forever.

And then he tells me about the oxygen sensor. It meters the ratio of air to fuel. Makes sense, but funny that the check engine light went off now, just after the car was serviced. I’m not complaining, but… Seems odd I’d be cruising at 65 on the  freeway and the light would come on.

And he explains what the oxygen sensor does, adjusts the ratio of air to fuel, and that’s when I ask him whether it will affect performance.

And he chuckles and says no. But that I might get better gas mileage.

BETTER GAS MILEAGE?

This car gets HORRIFIC gas mileage. It’s not a Ferrari, but in town…about 17. On the highway only you might get in the low twenties… But the bottom line is the car is paid for, to trade it in for a new one to save money on gas…that doesn’t make any sense.

And after pulling off the lot, I drive away anxious. Just waiting for a light to come on, for something to be wrong.

And I’m checking the time… They give you a free car wash down the street, and I’ve got to get gas after that, but if there’s a problem will they still be open when I return?

I’d brought the car in dirty and about as empty as it gets. I’ll be honest, I don’t wash my car that often. It’s black and it sits outside and it’s a futile effort. As for gas… I was going to fill up on the way there, but time was a-wasting and…

I believe if the car is clean and full they respect it, give better service, but that’s probably OCD.

And getting behind the wheel of this twenty year old car, I immediately notice how tight the steering is, how the car is planted.

Now I’d been driving Felice’s Mercedes. Her Lexus got totaled, she wanted to buy another one, but they don’t make her model anymore, just SUVs, and she doesn’t want one of those.

So we call my nephew Andrew, car salesman extraordinaire, then at MBZ, and ask him what’s up. He knows the landscape. And the bottom line is that almost everybody leases a Mercedes and they come back after three years and only the best are certified and resold. The rest they auction off. If it’s been in an accident, it’s auctioned.

So the inventory keeps on rolling. And when Felice decides to take action, there’s a 350 with literally every option, from the moving seats (the bolsters tighten up on the curves), to the heads-up display, to the self-parking and… Every MBZ is different. Somebody ordered one maxed-out. But you don’t really pay extra for these features when buying off lease. And sure, it’s a Mercedes, and they’re not trouble-free and service is expensive (Felice just got an oil change for five hundred bucks), but…

Get behind the wheel of this car and you’re living. It’s like a bank vault. Quiet! A BMW might handle a bit better, but an MBZ is more planted, more solid. I’m behind the wheel of that car and I feel like a king. I love it.

So now I’m behind the wheel of my sh*tbox, and one thing is for sure, it’s NOISY! Even after I installed Acousti-Mat in the floor so the stereo would sound better.

Now that’s one difference between my car and Felice’s. She’s got the upgraded Burmester stereo, pretty damn good, but I’ve got top of the line stuff in my piece of crap. The best Focals all around, a subwoofer, a JL amplifier and a replacement Alpine head unit. That’s one thing I’d miss if I purchased a new car, the stereo. No manufacturer makes one as good as I have. Furthermore, installing an aftermarket unit in a new car… They’re so computerized that you can replace the speakers, maybe get an amplifier to interface, but you can’t replace the head unit and it’s all very expensive.

But as good as my car stereo is, my car is still noisy.

And I’m on pins and needles driving home, just waiting for something to f*ck up. It doesn’t, but…

And then last night I go out to the Palisades, the trail is now open after the fire. And as you drive further and further west on Sunset there’s less and less traffic and I’m doing my best not to exceed the speed limit, but as I’m going around the curves…

That’s why I own this car, which is really a gussied-up Subaru WRX, with a few STI features. Four wheel drive not for the traction, but for the performance, which is amazing. But that’s all that’s amazing… There’s no computer, none of the features you take for granted on a new car.

And today I’ve got to drive to Santa Monica. And I get on the 405 and the traffic is tight and I mash the accelerator and…THE CAR TAKES OFF!

Wow, it really moves!

The turbo doesn’t kick in until about 3,500 RPM, but when it does, you get a jolt. But with the new oxygen sensor, there’s truly a jolt, the car BLASTS OFF!

And now I’m starting to smile. Should I merge into a slower lane?

NO, because I know I can speed up instantly to get into that space down the road.

And then on my return trip, I’m on Wilshire, heading for the freeway, and you know how drivers are today, hesitant and on their phones, so…

I decide to get in the right lane, the slow lane, and I punch it and not only do I pass a bunch of cars on the left, I make the light when no one else does.

And I’m accelerating through the curves, and then I get to the circular on-ramp, and with a suspension like this you can just push it and push it and when I merge onto the freeway…I don’t have to wait for all the turkeys to figure out what they’re doing, I just hit the accelerator, twist the wheel and move over a lane.

And now I’m truly happy. Wondering how long this car is really going to last.

Really, I should leave it in Vail, four wheel drive Subarus are the Colorado state automobile.

But I need a ride at home, and you can’t really get away with a used car for much less than forty, not one you’d want to drive that won’t immediately break.

But it’s twenty years old!

But I’m living in the moment. The car is driving like it’s absolutely brand new. You know, Japanese cars are not like American ones, they don’t loosen up as they age. I forgot how much of a kick the turbo gave in this car. I mean with the new oxygen sensor I’m only talking about five, maybe a ten percent top end boost of the turbo, but I can feel it.

And at this point I’m glad it’s a stick. I went to Craig’s one night and I came out and there was my car, parked right up front… I almost felt embarrassed, the paint job sucks. I asked what was up. Turns out the guy who can drive a stick already went home!

You’ve got to take pleasure in the little things these days.

I love it when my gear runs right. I want my skis and boots to be PERFECT! Because you can tell the difference. My boots…last year they updated the model for the first time in decades. Stunningly, they perform even better. When I go into a turn I can feel it. Bootfitters.com always says they’re the gold standard, the best you can buy…but not everybody buys them… People buy a lot of crap. But oftentimes the best is no more expensive than the crap, you’ve just got to do a little research.

And I bought this car because of the performance. I couldn’t drive a Camry, even a Lexus after owning a BMW. And it delivered, if only on that note. And now, after getting a new oxygen sensor…IT STILL DOES!

1

“I’m gonna add some bottom

So that the dancers just won’t hide”

Awards shows never run on schedule. Even when they’re taped for TV. There are stops and starts. After all, it’s all about what the home viewer sees on their flat screen.

But that was not the case last night. The show started on time because it was simulcast on Disney+. And there were no breaks, no retakes, because not only was the show live, there were no commercials.

So we were jolted alive when the lights came up and Stevie Wonder and the assembled multitude launched into “Dance to the Music.”

The power of the original cannot be denied. And the funny thing was last night IT WAS JUST AS POWERFUL! I’ve seen tribute covers, too often it’s about going through the motions, doing your bit and getting out, another notch in the belt of celebration that is ultimately meaningless.

But not last night.

“You might like to hear my organ

I said ride, Sally ride”

How many times have you heard this on the radio? You know the flourishes by heart, the beat, the sound…and they were all replicated last night. A better performance than I’ve EVER seen on the Grammys. Not that they’re competing. But when the Grammys created those “moments,” the mashup of stars, one and one often yielded less than two.

But not last night.

So Stevie, yes, Stevie Wonder, who was eclipsed by Sly Stone at this point in time, Stevie didn’t really come into his own until the seventies, when he burst into a supernova, is sitting at the keyboard like he’s in a bar earning his keep for the night. There was a horn section… It was positively MESMERIZING!

And it was clear that it was Flea in the back, playing his bass, noodling around as he does with the Chili Peppers. And you know it’s coming, you wonder how it’s going to go down, but then Michael Balzary runs up to the microphone and utters the words atop this screed and then plays those fat, distorted notes on his bass and it was positively transcendent.

We live in an era where the script has flipped. When it’s all about live as opposed to recordings. It’s about the experience, feeling it. And I’m a jaded f*ck sitting right down front marveling that Lenny Waronker is at my table and I’m positively jolted, my legs spring me up to attention, the power was unbelievable. And from “Dance to the Music” it went into “Everyday People” and then “Thank You (Falletinme Be Mice Elf Agin”,” finishing with Stevie and Jennifer Hudson imploring us to take it HIGHER!

The sixties flashed through my brain. Not only the energy, the music, but the spirit, the optimism, the hope. Music was lighting the fuse that blasted the younger generation into the stratosphere. Sly Stone melded rock and soul and who knows what to create this amalgam of sound you couldn’t get anywhere else. He and the Family Stone were totally original. For a few minutes last night time stopped, nothing else mattered other than being there in the moment, AND WHAT MORE CAN YOU ASK FOR?

2

I know, I know, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame gets a ton of sh*t. And I don’t want to defend it, I’ve got my own complaints. Then again, the fact that Bad Company was finally inducted…an honor way overdue to the point where even though alive, Paul Rodgerrs is too compromised to come out and sing and teach the audience a lesson, show them what true pipes, what true singing ability and nuance are all about. But, but, BUT…Simon Kirke was pounding the drums, Joe Perry, in all his splendor, was throwing off those Mick Ralphs riffs, and Chris Robinson was proving he’s a better rock frontman than seemingly anybody plying the boards today.

“Feel like makin’ LOVE”

I can’t write the sound of the machine gun fire that echoes that line, but you could feel it in the building last night. A power…the power of rock and roll.

And then Bryan Adams came out and sang the breakthrough hit, “Can’t Get Enough,” bringing us back to the summer of ’74.

And… You knew that everybody on stage had lived through it, had driven in their car with these Bad Company songs pounding out of the dashboard. This was like making your bones in the garage, turning it up and letting it wail, believing you’re on the road to stardom.

Not that every performance was as good, but there was only one bad one, and it was Chris Cornell’s daughter. There, I said it.

But what I’m really saying here is the show was amazing in that no one was phoning it in, everybody was delivering and there were no down moments when you got up and spoke with your neighbor…I didn’t even want to get up and go to the bathroom, I didn’t want to miss anything. That’s for home, when you pause the show and take a break, but live you’re in the moment, and it’s only the moment that counts.

The big surprise, two of the other great performances of the night, were by acts you might question being in the Hall.

Salt-N-Pepa… Nineties MTV flashed in front of my eyes. And that’s what that era was about, hip-hop… Sure, it started with grunge, but then rap dominated. And these women had something to prove, three decades ago and last night. They spit out the lyrics, it was beyond a victory lap, it was a demand for attention, and they got it.

And then came OutKast…

Who doesn’t like OutKast?

They’ll come out and do their hit numbers and…

They did eventually, but…

Big Boi strode up to the stage in a big fur coat and shorts…talk about the rock and roll ethos. And then he and André 3000 started to take over the entire building. Shouting out to their friends and family in the audience, then demanding they come up on stage! There are about a dozen people up there, even a kid in a tux who couldn’t have even been six. And André 3000 is talking about the village that allowed them to create this music, how they were a product of their environment, how everybody helped… And we white guys are now sitting there as outsiders, it’s no longer our Hall, our ceremony, it’s been totally hijacked. It was palpable. It was both jarring and impressive. How did they do this? How did they make the show their own? And they did it without being overly dramatic or rehearsed and then…

The assembled multitude started to play the hits and…

If you’ve ever doubted that hip-hop could work live, if you were there you were proved wrong.

I’m standing there wondering how this looks on TV. The screen flattens. Removes the energy. You’re removed, but in the presence of the performance… This was rock and roll, this was the only place you could get it, not on YouTube, nowhere else, you had to BE THERE!

And funny it was in the Peacock Theater, a barn with an echo, made me yearn for the Universal Amphitheatre of old, but when music is played outside…it’s a different experience, you don’t feel it. But when the notes bounce off the walls…you’re all in the pressure cooker, caught up in the sound, you cannot remove yourself, you’re involved, and you love it!

3

Jack White gave a heartfelt speech… It seemed like he was fighting back tears. He exuded a normalness, the guy next door who made it big, he had the outfit but none of the airs, it was endearing.

But he, never mind Meg, a no-show, didn’t play. And as good as the tributes to him were, his act is unique, only he can really do it.

Ditto with Warren Zevon. The Killers and Waddy gave it their all, but the real star of Warren’s segment was David Letterman. This guy just couldn’t help being funny. It made you miss him. He’s in another league from today’s late night hosts. He’s quick and self-deprecating and above it all at the same time. And you could tell he loved Warren. And they played the famous clip where Zevon said to enjoy every sandwich.

Listen, the performances, other than the aforementioned clunker, were all good. It was a treat to see Derek Trucks sting the leads on the Joe Cocker songs. But there were two other highlights, HIGHLIGHTS!

4

The first one was Cyndi Lauper…

Now Cyndi has just come off a long tour, so she decided to perform herself. And she held the audience in her hands.

She starts with “True Colours” and then two-thirds of the way through, she gets to the line…

SO DON’T BE AFRAID!

And she stopped, cold, and thrust her arm in the air. This was a moment of protest, of meaning, that is absent from not only the new generation, but the public in general. This is the power of music. Wow. Goosebumps.

And the band…

Everybody was so well-rehearsed, every act, there were no clunkers. I’ve never seen performances this seamless at an awards show… But they were all firing at 10, they weren’t just going through the motions, they felt it.

Even that rhythmic drum coda at the end of “True Colours,” that was there…

And Cyndi’s speech was good too, but the other highlight of the night for me…

5

Brian Wilson… You just can’t say enough. If you lived through it… It’s why I live in California. I just had to get CLOSER!

And I was not the only one.

So the lights come up to Elton in front of his keyboard and Reg is telling a story. And Reg has been everywhere and done everything. So he saw no need to amp it up. He spoke about going up the hill to meet Brian when he first came to L.A.

And then he started playing “God Only Knows.”

Only this wasn’t the version we all know. It was slowed down. So that the words had added meaning.

And Elton is singing…

No one can sing like Carl Wilson. And even Elton doesn’t sound like he used to. But he gave the performance I’d say of a lifetime, but he’s given so many of them. But let’s just say this one…Elton was as good, if not better than he’s been all century. He’s making the song his own. And ultimately the key line resonated:

“God only knows what I’d be without you”

Not only Elton, but me and so many more. It was a different era. The youth started to take over the narrative when the establishment was unaware. What the hell was going on on the west coast? The girls and the beach and the fun, yet Brian could sing about being in his room with the gravitas of the most dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker on a rainy day.

Now the funny thing is so much time has passed that…

A lot of the people, or members of bands they’re honoring, are dead. You only wish they were alive to see it, to experience it.

But they’re not the only ones.

And the acts up on stage are thanking record executives those in the audience have never heard of, but were players around town back in the day. Soundgarden thanked Jim Guerinot, as they should have, Jim turned me on to the band, but Jim was not in attendance. The business has shifted, evolved, there were some record execs there, some other heavyweights, but this was not the clusterf*ck of yore. I’d say the only ones who’d survived intact, who still meant anything, were the musicians, the acts themselves. But really, it comes down to the music. The music survives.

Will today’s music survive?

We can debate that all day long, but one thing is for sure…

They created the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to honor an era, an unforeseen era. No one knew rock and roll was going to take over the world, become the dominant sound. And it was more than that, it was a cultural movement. This wasn’t the music business of yore. The acts now wrote their own songs, straight from the heart, and ultimately played their own instruments, and they were all about pushing the envelope…you dropped the needle on a new record wondering where you’d be taken, the musicians were leaders.

And they were musicians. Sure, a lot were stars, but they were not brands. They sold t-shirts, but the music came first.

And the funny thing is despite the image…you’d be surprised, a lot of these people who cut these legendary tracks are broke, or close to it. They’ve got to work for a living. Or did before they died. You need to put food on the table. The execs end up comfortable, the musicians not necessarily so.

But the sound, the power.

It remains.