If I see one more article about Malcolm Gladwell and his book "Outliers" I’m not gonna buy it.

I know, seems like a 180, but that’s the risk you take when you promote your band, beating the target audience over the head to such a degree that fans abandon you, worse, say negative shit about you.

This is how publicity directors insure they don’t lose their jobs.  By showing their bosses a number, how many mentions they’ve gotten.  Doesn’t matter if it helps the project, insures the longevity of the project, it’s all about a raw quantification at the outset.

Read any articles about Metallica’s new album recently?  How about Lil’ Wayne’s?  At least Metallica’s on tour, they’re getting some concert reviews, but most acts are not of their stature, the newspaper doesn’t care.  And if you don’t go on the road, it’s like you dropped a rock in a lake, ripples move outward, and then calm returns.

The question is how can you get your project to live on?  How can you achieve legs?  You don’t do this by saturation publicity at the outset.  This just alienates your core, which spreads the word.  If you think the casual user counts, then you’re probably working at the major labels, entities that have ridden this philosophy to the ground.

Not everybody liked the Dead.  But their model wasn’t so much free music as an ongoing percolation in the marketplace.  They toured regularly, you could bring your friends.  Developing bands are on the road all the time.  Superstars flog one album ad infinitum and then disappear.  Or, return again and again with the same damn show.  People might come back if you charged a fair price and played different material.  But you don’t.

1. Don’t tell everybody.  Tell somebody.  Today’s publicity is like hearing high school gossip on "Entertainment Tonight".  Huh?  I thought that was just between you and me!
2. Try to get stories for the life of the project.  Hold back, see if you’ve got traction, work that traction.
3. Many albums have entered SoundScan at number one and dropped before selling tonnage.  Whereas others have started at the bottom and gone multiplatinum.  As for superstars…  Shit, I hate Beyonce because I have to keep reading about her and her damn movie "Cadillac Records".  That won’t be a good flick, because there hasn’t been a good movie in eons, Hollywood is only interested in the money.  But what if Beyonce did a cover of a soul classic, maybe "Nowhere To Run", and gave it away free on the Net and told none of the usual suspects?  Word would spread like wildfire.  Fans would be e-mailing everybody they know, owning the project themselves, feeling part of it.  Who can feel part of the process when the media oligarchs are jamming it down our collective throats.
4. If people can’t own it, can’t believe in it, can’t talk about it and spread the word, you’ve got no legs.  And legs are where the money is.

Read anything about the Buffett book recently?  "Entourage"?  Everything’s front-loaded.  Not knowing how to truly reach and sustain its audience’s interest, the hypesters just throw it all against the wall at once.  And if there are no legs, they just shrug.  It wasn’t their fault.  But it was!

It was hard to get a story in the pre-Internet era.  Now, you can always find a blogger to flog your project.  Worse, no story is local.  The "New York Times", "Wall Street Journal", "Time" and "Newsweek", never mind the YouTube clips of TV shows, all exist next to each other online, side by side.  What you end up with is a deluge.  And you know what happens when you’ve got a deluge?  People drown!

That’s what it feels like when you’re subjected to the endless repetitious hype.  You use every effort to swim to shore and connect with what you know and truly trust, which is not the flavor of the moment.

I became a rabid Stevie Winwood fan when I heard the North Atlantic Invasion Force play "Somebody Help Me" at Sacred Heart University.

The headliner was Vanilla Fudge.  In the middle, they had a comedian, the Hippy Dippy Weatherman known as George Carlin. But what made the biggest impression upon me was this song.  Who did it?  Who created its magical groove?

Marc discovered it was the Spencer Davis Group.  Of "I’m A Man" and "Gimme Some Lovin’" fame.  He bought the album, I played it every time I went to his house.

But my first Stevie Winwood album was not this, it was the second Traffic disc.  Famous mostly for Dave Mason’s cuts today, most especially "Feelin’ Alright", you’d be missing out if you never heard "Forty Thousand Headmen".  One of my most magical Fillmore moments was when Traffic reunited in 1970, sans Mr. Mason, and appeared at the Fillmore East a month before "John Barleycorn Must Die" was released.  When Stevie played "Forty Thousand Headmen", he hesitated, just after "Just look behind"…  It was truly like he’d stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder and saw all forty thousand headmen in the distance.  Whew!

My favorite cut off "John Barleycorn" is "Empty Pages".  The pure joy and the simplicity of a small band playing together, firing on all cylinders.  You don’t need all that production, all you need is talent.

The band broke up, got back together again and finally flew on the public’s radar with "Low Spark Of High Heeled Boys" and then faded out again, albeit on the high note known as "When The Eagle Flies".  "Something New" has the joy of "Empty Pages", but it’s "Walking In The Wind" that truly gets under my skin.  A great band is not focused on the charts, a great band makes an album because it has to get its statement down on wax, a great band makes music that infatuates its listeners, to the fan the deep track on one of his favorite albums is just as great a personal hit as the song with ubiquitous Top Forty airplay, if not more so.

I never bought those Spencer Davis Group albums.  But, after buying the second Traffic album, I went back and bought the first, with all the classics, covered by bands who knew the act’s greatness.  Three Dog Night did a killer cover of "Heaven Is In Your Mind".  Al Kooper and Mike Bloomfield made sure everybody who listened to FM radio knew "Dear Mr. Fantasy".  And on his first solo album, Al did a killer take of "Coloured Rain".  They all knew how great Stevie Winwood was, even if the general public had no idea.

I bought every Winwood album thereafter.  And that’s how I ended up listening to the first solo record.  Which most people have now forgotten.  It was the second that contained "While You See A Chance".  He didn’t become a household name until almost a decade later, with "Higher Love".  But that first Island solo record was not a disappointment if you were listening.  I was.

I know every lick, but I hardly ever listen to it.

I don’t know what made me pull it up on my Sonos system today.  I think the memory of playing Winwood when I first moved into this place, when I fired up the stereo while I figured out how to reconstruct my life, that made me recollect it.

And I’ve been playing it and enjoying it, but after getting to "Luck’s In", I keep hitting repeat.

Make sure you listen to "Hold On", "Vacant Chair" and the album’s most notable track, "Time Is Running Out", the one people remember if they remember anything at all.  But the best is "Luck’s In".

There’s a jazzy intro, truly jazzy, something that most rock listeners don’t enjoy.  But then there’s a change and Stevie Winwood starts to sing…

Some people get lonely, while some people get blue

Many informed listeners say Paul Rodgers has the best voice in rock and roll.  That’s hard to argue with, but I’m gonna say Stevie Winwood owns the best pipes.  What emanates from his throat is pure humanity, you feel like there’s a human being living in your speakers.

There’s something about you, I don’t know what you got
But you and me girl, we’re gonna give it a shot

That’s what we do with recording acts, we give them a shot.  And if we like what we hear, we dedicate ourselves to them.  We don’t care if they’re on the hit parade, we just need to hear everything they do.

Like Winwood’s 2003 album "About Time".  I’d say it’s a return to form, but it’s more than that.  It not only has the greatness of yore, it tests new limits.  If you were lucky enough to see these tours, with Jose Neto working out on the guitar, with Stevie ripping "Dear Mr. Fantasy", you’ll never forget them.

I was convinced my favorite Winwood solo track was "Night Train", from "Arc Of A Diver".  And that’s great, but it’s got a different feel from "Luck’s In".  "Night Train" sounds like an alienated excursion on the Trans-Europe Express.  "Luck’s In" sounds like life. Like you’re strolling alone in your backyard garden.  Like you’re in your room, staring at the walls.  Music when done right doesn’t bounce off of you, it’s a companion.  You can be on a mountain cliff, in the middle of the desert, scared as hell or lonely. But when you start to sing a great song to yourself, you feel calm, completely connected.

That’s how I feel listening to Stevie Winwood’s "Luck’s In" right now.

Did you read that story in the "Wall Street Journal" about the iPhone/iPod Touch becoming a gaming platform?

That’s Doug Morris’ mistake.  He thinks the iPod is merely a music machine.  He thinks he’s got all the leverage, when he’s losing power daily.

In the seventies, the first thing you did upon moving into a new apartment was set up your stereo.  You dropped the needle and played your vinyl as you unpacked.  If you were starting anew, having left a relationship, maybe you went to the local record store and purchased six or a dozen records to start completely over, with music that was special to you only.

You snipped the speaker wire, hooked the JBLs/Advents/ARs to the amp, and then plugged in your turntable.  You dropped the needle and you got…euphoria!

I just had that experience.  The modern equivalent of it.

I’ve had a Sonos system forever.  But I found it too cumbersome to search for the music I wanted to hear, by time I finally found it, I’d lost the urge.  But now I have instantaneous access, because my Sonos system is controlled by my iPod Touch!

I won’t say hookup was easy.  I was on the phone with their ever so helpful tech person for a couple of hours.  We were especially frustrated that the system wouldn’t see the music on my computer.  This gentleman wanted me to enable screen-sharing, he wanted to go deep into my Mac via the Terminal to root around and try to fix the problem.

I said no.  Because when I upgrade my machine and have a problem, who am I gonna call?  I keep my computer stock, I don’t need any more upgrading trouble than I’ve already got.  He recommended doing the combo update, that it might fix the problem.

Yeah, right.

I took an hour from my day.  I repaired permissions, downloaded and installed the 10.5.5 combo pack, repaired permissions again and then it worked!  I was like a dad on Christmas morning, finally having figured out how to build that bicycle!

Then we installed the Sonos app on my iPod Touch and I’ve been in hog heaven ever since.  Playing music in each and every room of my house.

I just think of a track, and then I dial it right up!

You see we installed Napster.  And Pandora.  We had trouble with Sirius and LastFM.  But I just picked up the iPod Touch and typed in what I wanted to hear via Napster the same way you send an e-mail on your iPhone.

What did I listen to?

David Ackles’ "American Gothic".

The Beach Boys’ "Marcella", which I’d heard on Tom Petty’s "Buried Treasure" show on XM.

A bit of 10cc.

And now I’m listening to Stevie Winwood.  The original solo albums.  She bought the first one just before we moved in together, I bought the second right after I moved out.  Do you know "Night Train"?  It’s the soundtrack of my move-in!

I even fired up my real stereo.  To listen.  I hadn’t played a CD in years.  And I may never again!

All because of the iPod Touch.

I didn’t even have to attach it to my computer, in order to sync it.  I downloaded the app wirelessly!  Just like you download a game.  To be able to control my Sonos system, in order to be able to hear the history of music through my entire house.

It’s a couple of hundred bucks for the Sonos system.  And you’ve got to have an iPod Touch or an iPhone.  And a stereo.  But when you do, you tell yourself this is the way it’s supposed to be.  All your music at your fingertips.

Sonos Controller for iPhone

Apple’s iPhone Faces Off With the Game Champs

Can I recommend half a book?

What made "Hit Men" so great wasn’t the narrative so much as the insider information revealed.  We know the story, we want to know the backstory.  Steve Knopper has written the new "Hit Men".  The sequel to Fredric Dannen’s book.  But it only goes up to the twenty first century.  After that it’s essentially a recitation of headlines, which we all know too well.

But how did Gil Friesen get his job?  Do you know the story of how Steve Jobs closed Roger Ames and Roger became the point man for the iTunes Music Store?

I didn’t know the former, but I do know the latter.  Roger IM’ed me that he was going to meet with Jobs, he was thrilled the way you and me are when we meet a rock star.  But Roger had met many a rock star.  This was something different.  This was a genius.  This was a twenty first century rock star.

And I mention this story because Steve Knopper gets it right.  But there are a bunch of other details that he gets only half right. Or wrong.  And this is interesting because no one who was actually there will ever write the story and "Appetite For Self-Destruction" will become factual history.

We all know the Napster story, it played out in every publication known to man.  But did you know some guy in the Pacific Northwest invented the CD back in the sixties?  Long before Sony and Philips masterminded their own?  And that the successor in interest of those patents made a killing decades later?

These are the kinds of facts exposed in "Appetite For Self-Destruction".  You learn the story behind the story.

I kept saying I was going to put the book down.  But then I couldn’t put it down.  Which is the mark of a great read.  Until I got to the points about Jobs and KaZaA and…  Anybody could have written those chapters, at least most of them.  Furthermore, I was depressed.  Because I realized all of the excitement was at the turn of the decade, the few years thereafter, when innovation was rampant and the major labels were clueless.

The majors squandered their power.  But what is more interesting is that they stifled innovation.  That’s why I write about the major labels so much.  Because the power they retain is a drag against progress.  As for the music they release…  If music were that exciting, kids wouldn’t be busy updating their Facebook profiles and playing Grand Theft Auto.

Something’s been lost.  And it’s not clear exactly what it is.  We don’t want the return of Tommy Mottola.  But we do want the return of Herb Alpert and Jerry Moss.  But they failed with Almo just like Mo and Lenny failed with DreamWorks.  Because they didn’t start at the absolute bottom, they knew too much, it wasn’t fresh.  Great music is not made in a factory, but in basements and bars, and if you’re lucky producers little better than amateurs can capture its rawness, keep the lightning in the bottle for all to see.

Although the emphasis of "Appetite For Self-Destruction" is the self-immolation of the major labels, the subtext is money.  How the compact disc blew up record company profits.  Enhanced even further by the reduction in the percentage paid to acts.  The executives wanted to retain these exorbitant profits and their corporate overseers pushed them to do so.  But now that money is gone.

It doesn’t matter who Guy Hands puts in at EMI, he paid too much for a company that can no longer deliver a string of million sellers.

AC/DC may be burning up the chart, but the band has no presence in the culture.  That’s what Wal-Mart does to you, it speaks to your fans and truly casual buyers and that’s it.  Metallica’s sales are slower, but the band means more.

But Metallica doesn’t mean that much.  No one means that much.  And those entrenched in the industry just can’t get over this. They want someone to blame.  Shawn Fanning, Nikki Hemming, Steve Jobs, the customer.  Someone must have conspired to steal their business.

But their bottom line was impacted less by the mistakes they made fighting digital music than the change in our culture.  True, P2P software allowed many to own much for essentially zero, but the fact that there was such a cornucopia of options, so many entertainment choices, made it hard to build a star.  Especially the kind Tommy Mottola and his Sony Music liked to construct. People like J. Lo.  Low on talent, but shoved down people’s throats.

You can’t shove anything down people’s throats anymore.  They don’t have to pay attention.  They love train-wrecks, but they’ll only invest long term in something they discover and believe in.  Which is too difficult a challenge and too expensive for too little reward for the baby boomers and their older brethren still running the record companies.  What if a record had to be good to sell?  What if going gold truly meant something again?  That won’t pay for gas for your private jet.  Certainly not in the short run.

According to Amazon, this book isn’t being released until January 6th.  But I’m writing about it now because the publisher sent it to me weeks ago.  I wasn’t going to write about it, because they kept e-mailing me about it, but a few pages got me hooked.

We’re all looking to get hooked.

You won’t love "Appetite For Self-Destruction", but if you work in this business you won’t be able to stop reading its first half, when all the people you know testify.

As for the public at large?

Why are there major publishers paying authors a bunch of money to write tomes that the mainstream is not into?  I admire Mr. Knopper’s research, but who is going to buy this book?  It needed to be a Website, not something bound between two covers.  It needed to unfold online.

But the book business is not prepared for this sea change.  Where people pull the information they desire when they desire online.  Where heat is more important than your book tour.

The times have certainly changed.  It’s got me scratching my head.  Big records and movies are so bland as to appeal to everybody, around the world.  TV’s a bit better, but it’s helped by a limited channel universe, even if this universe is five hundred outlets strong.  Still, most of those channels get every little traffic.  But they survive because advertisers want to reach this narrow sliver of audience.  Your band’s audience is narrow too.  Don’t try to convert outsiders, maximize the revenue from those who’ve become addicted.  Outsiders don’t care about you, they care about someone else.  Accept it.

Appetite for Self-Destruction: The Spectacular Crash of the Record Industry in the Digital Age