He died.

Actually, a few days back, but I just found out last night.

I was on my final go-round in the “New York Times” app, and I went into the obituaries, and there he was.

They’re dropping like flies. Then again, Gravenites was 85, and was living in assisted living, suffering from dementia and diabetes. I mean 85’s a pretty good run, fifteen years longer than my dad, if I make it to 85 I’ll be lucky, I’ll be thrilled, then again if I do I won’t be ready to go.

Actually, I was stunned that Nick was still alive. Not that I expected him to be dead, but when you’re an icon…where do you go? Sure, some of them have a website, participate on social media, but the rest of them? I don’t know.

And doing endless research last night I couldn’t really find a full description of where Gravenites has been. Yes, he worked with John Cippolina, but Cippolina died in 1989, thirty five years ago.

Meanwhile, the obit focuses on the Electric Flag. I never bought that album, but it was on Columbia, and the band featured Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Miles and that one song, I know it by heart, “Groovin’ Is Easy.” And as a matter of fact, Barry Goldberg was in the band too, along with Harvey Brooks, who composed “Harvey’s Tune,” the final cut on “Super Session,” a moody burner that the youngsters are not familiar with, and this had me reflecting on when Al Kooper would pass. He’s not in the best of health.

And the Electric Flag never had a hit.

Nor did the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. An iconic group which peaked in the late sixties which made its reputation live and on the records themselves, airplay was minuscule. Butterfield was big before most burgs even had underground FM radio.

But if you were in the know…

This is not the 27 club. Even though Butterfield himself expired at age 44 as a result of a drug overdose. To employ the Joe Walsh aphorism, Butterfield was too old to die young, it made the news, but there was no hoopla.

But Nick Gravenites… How to explain this to a younger generation? That a musician sans hits had respect, was well-known within the community, made a difference, didn’t just make music as background, but as life itself.

I was pondering all this and I thought it must be the blues. I’ve been waiting for a blues revival. That’s what Active Rock is missing, the blues underpinning, which was bedrock for all the great English acts of the late sixties and seventies.

But the old blues musicians… Many of them were still around when Gravenites came up. Muddy Waters. Howlin’ Wolf. I met Willie Dixon, talked to him for a while at a Bug Music party one Friday afternoon, but I was too young for the others. After going to Sun Studios it made me wish that I was aware of how great Howlin’ Wolf was while he was still alive.

And it turns out Nick Gravenites did not write “Groovin’ Is Easy,” but he did compose the now standard “Born in Chicago,” which opened Butterfield’s debut. And he wrote for Janis Joplin. And Nick was the producer of Brewer & Shipley’s “Tarkio,” which contained “One Toke Over the Line,” but even better, the closer, the almost seven minute long “Fifty States of Freedom.” If you’d asked me earlier yesterday who’d produced “Tarkio” I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Nick Gravenites was just part of the firmament, and now he’s gone.

So after reading the obit, I went in search of Nick’s last fifty years, and that’s when I found notice of a benefit concert last year in Sebastopol. Maria Muldaur was the biggest name, but the whole affair was put together by Barry Melton. From Country Joe & the Fish. You know, the one with the big blond hairdo, all those curls expanding.

I know that Melton ultimately went to law school and became a public defender. But going deeper, I found out he’d been gigging with Banana. BANANA? The Youngbloods have been lost to the sands of time. Robert Plant covered “Darkness, Darkness,” and “Get Together” is a staple, but at one time the band was so big they got their own vanity label with Warner Bros, Raccoon. And the funny thing is Banana had a similar hairstyle to Melton, what back then was called a “Jewfro.” Where in the hell has Banana been all these years? How has he survived?

That’s what I wanted to know, how did Nick Gravenites survive? Were his songwriting royalties enough to carry him through, or had he had a straight job.

And now I’m going deeper into Gravenites’s history, man I love going down the internet rabbit hole, and it says it all started at the University of Chicago. NICK GRAVENITES WENT TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO? That’s one of the most difficult schools out there.

And it turns out Elvin Bishop went there too. Was a physics major. You know, the guy who looks like Jethro from “The Beverly Hillbillies.” Bishop may have grown up in Oklahoma, but he’s no backward bumpkin.

And along with appearing on the “The Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper,” which contained a version of “Dear Mr. Fantasy” that got more airplay back then than the Traffic original and hasn’t been heard since, Bishop formed his own band, it was his name, but the singer was Mickey Thomas, who ultimately ended up in the Starship.

And Bishop’s biggest hit, and I wonder what he’s surviving on, was “Fooled Around and Fell In Love.” Then again, Bishop wrote that one, a classic, maybe that’s enough.

But it turns out Bryan Ferry did a cover of “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” on his “Love Letters” EP back in 2022. I KNOW Bryan Ferry, but I had no idea this EP came out. I immediately clicked to hear it.

And now our heroes of yore have retreated into truly being the bluesmen of today. They record quickly, on small budgets, and almost no one hears their material.

I’d say what a long strange trip it’s been, but I don’t want to mix the Dead into this, even though they too were from San Francisco.

These were educated people. Go to the University of Chicago today and you’re not going to throw it all away to become a musician, following the dead art of the blues. Then again, you could live on almost nothing back then, unlike today.

It is very different.

I read in today’s “Wall Street Journal” “Mansion” section about a $177 million spec house in Bel Air. Who could afford that? Well, if you’re a billionaire you’ve got to park the money somewhere.

But when Nick Gravenites was plying the boards the heroes of the age were musicians. Not Top Forty hitmakers, but those devoted to the craft. Who luxuriated in the sound, who wanted to make a dent in the universe. Hell, even Steve Jobs got his inspiration from music.

It’s not the same today. Don’t let anybody tell you it is, they’re just lying or weren’t around.

And I’ll posit the young people missed it. The golden era.

And Nick Gravenites was part of it.

I won’t think about him every day.

But I’ll never forget him.

Not that he’d care. That’s not what he was in it for. He wanted to make that sound. And when we heard it, it was all-encompassing, it was all we could think about, it was what we lived for.

I am not going to write about your book.

Writing is a profession. What makes people who’ve run out of jobs and self-publish their story believe that people want to read what they have to say?

I don’t want to write this. I’m sick and tired of the attitude I’m displaying here. This is what happens when you interact with the public. And it’s hard to let it roll off your back all the time. As a matter of fact, Ellen DeGeneres has a new Netflix special all about this. And yes, she’s got a chip on her shoulder, yes she doth protest too much, but she’s a really good comedian, she’s got an identity, a viewpoint, never mind the rote skills of timing and delivery. Everybody thinks they can stand on stage and entertain people, but only a very few are good enough to break through. Ditto with writing. We can all put words into a computer, but do you have the skill to create a riveting story that people want to read?

Forget the details. Everybody’s got amazing events in their lives, everybody’s got a tale to tell. Just because you met a famous musician that doesn’t mean people want to pay to read your story.

But these people are relentless. One guy e-mails me every time I mention a book I read. EVERY TIME! Thinking that this perseverance is going to pay dividends. Like finally I’m going to break down and give him what he wants. NO! I’ve been ignoring him. God forbid I tell him the truth.

Do you know how long it takes to read a book? Hours and hours. And you want me to dedicate all that time to your primitive effort? For what? So I can not write about it and you’ll still be pissed at me?

Of course there are exceptions, like Kathy Valentine’s “All I Ever Wanted.” And there are some books written by professionals that are worth the time, but most biographies (and even rock autobiographies!) are not worth reading. I mean if you’re that dedicated a fan, go for it, but I’m not.

Then there are people who write entire books without a negative thing to say. They’re eighty and worried about pissing off…exactly who? That’s sad, you’re that old and you still can’t tell the truth.

And then there are the misspellings. No one ever proofreads these books. In addition to being unable to write exciting material, none of these people can spell. Ever hear of spellcheck? It’s built right into your word processor, right there in Word. Can you use it?

And if you mention famous names and misspell them…you look like an idiot, what do you think the reader thinks? I mean how hard is it to spell Jackson “Browne” instead of “Brown?” And then there are the books where there are multiple variations on the spelling of one name. Once again, spellcheck would point this out.

As for being unable to spell… That’s what most writers can do, spell. But they can’t do your job, hang with business people and negotiate. Why are you so sure you can do their job? I don’t think I can make hit records. But I could fire up GarageBand right now and make a track and e-mail you each and every day to listen to it. And believe me, I get those too. The barrier to entry is astoundingly low, as to be almost nonexistent. But what makes you think people want to pay attention, spend the time?

And then there’s the production. Ever think of making the type a bit bigger so people can read it? Ever think of choosing a readable font? This is what professionals focus on, amateurs don’t even think of this.

And pricing. Do you really think someone wants to pay thirty dollars for this dreck?

And there’s one book where the guy who wrote it can’t even get his own timeline right. I know more than he does. I mean it’s not hard if you’re paying attention. These are facts. You can look them up online. When an album came out, when the Vietnam War ended. It’s simple.

Yet you keep dunning me to read your book.

I tell people all the time, you can send it but just don’t bug me to read it and write about it. But people do anyway. Hey, you wrote about that famous writer’s book, why not mine?

And then there are those who write fiction. I can tell you about respected writers that can’t get narrative right. I read this Claire Messud book that had great descriptions and analogies but the plot was substandard, and she’s one of the most revered writers out there! But you think you can just lay it down and ring the bell? Come on!

I had this friend Johanan Vigoda. A legendary lawyer, he represented Stevie Wonder, even though he looked like a homeless person.

We were at lunch one time, and I was trolling… I hate to admit it, but I was. I didn’t come right out and say it, but if he would only do this for me, a minor effort, a connection.

And what Vigoda said to me, and I knew him, he was a friend, was…

“I AM NOT A TRAIN! I do not pick up people in one place and drop them off in another.”

And then there was Ken Kragen, who used to teach a class about management at UCLA Extension. He said it was all about connections. To make them. BUT HE WAS NOT THEIR CONNECTION!

I didn’t take that class, but a friend did and he told me this. And how did I meet that friend? At UCLA EXTENSION! We were both at the advent of our careers. What makes you think you’re immediately entitled to get in at the top?

So I love to read. And I’m sitting there with a stack of self-published books, the biographies of some executive, or someone who was involved in a scene, and I can spend five or six hours reading their tome… Or I can pick up the new Rachel Kushner book. What do you think I’m going to do?

Want to get ahead in this world? Do something great.

Even Malcolm Gladwell has come out and said 10,000 hours of practice doesn’t mean you’ll be world class. The science says 10,000 hours of HARD PRACTICE!

Hell, you might write a good book if you’ve been writing since you’ve been a teen. Have seven unpublished novels in your drawer.

But no, you’ve come to a career standstill, don’t know what to do with yourself, have run out of options and say, I know what I’ll do, WRITE A BOOK!

Don’t even bother. Unless it’s your number one passion. Do something else with the limited time you have left on this planet.

Do I read the books of people I do podcasts with?

Yes.

But the odds of me doing a podcast based on a self-published book… That hasn’t happened yet. And I’m inundated with major publisher books that I don’t have time to read, and some I do and still don’t write about them.

But you’re entitled.

I get it, you were a radio promotion guy. You bugged radio stations over and over, until they delivered what you wanted.

But that was traditional business. An exchange of favors.

I DON’T PLAY THAT GAME! Even though people still think I do.

I’ve got no stock in Spotify, nor Live Nation. I’ve never taken a penny to write about a record or a book or a company. NEVER!

But I should do it for you.

Furthermore, what have you done for me?

I’ve built this platform. Do you know what I had to do to do it?

Oh, you don’t really care.

But I guarantee you I’ve lived on a level you can’t even comprehend. Writing a bad check for the rent with less than twenty dollars to my name, with no idea where the next check was coming from.

I survived. But if I want to tell you the truth, I just about fell off the edge. It was nearly terminal.

But now that I’ve built whatever I have, whoever I am, I’m beholden to you.

And then there are the people who keep criticizing what I write and how I write. They’re not paying a penny and they can unsubscribe instantly, it’s a link on the bottom of every missive.

But they’re entitled.

I do my best to avoid their input. It goes with the territory.

But I don’t like the person I become when I’m reacting to all this b.s. that my readers aren’t even aware of.

Now I’m making you aware of it.

All you newbie ex-exec writers out there…

Do me a favor. Ask the friend of a friend to read your book. Someone you don’t know at all, who’s got no investment in your work, and have them respond. I bet you most people won’t even finish your book. And when questioned by their mutual friend they’ll say negative stuff.

But you’re delusional.

That’s not one of the tools in the rock star playbook. Sure, self-belief, but not delusion. Some people just don’t have it. And chances are they’re you. Bob Dylan sings “Each of us has his own special gift.” You do. Find out what it is. I doubt it’s writing.

And bugging people ad infinitum for attention is not a gift, even a baby can do that.

So if you’re thinking of sending me a book… I might say yes, but the odds of me reading it are almost nil. I may check it out.

But if you’re a major publisher it’s different. But they’re smart enough to know that if you send someone a book that doesn’t mean they’ll read it or write about it. Imagine calling everybody on the record company mailing list of yore, every week, to ask whether they’ve listened to your record and whether they’re going to take action, play it or write about it. These lists had thousands of people on them, how many people took action? They say one percent is a good return.

The problem here is I’m going to scare off the reasonable people, the talented ones.

And while I’m at it, for the umpteenth time… You’re reading me, you know what I’m into, can you think about that and recommend what might interest me? I just wrote about three fiction books, but you’re telling me I must read a rock autobiography, or a business book? Sure, there’s a small possibility I’ll like that, but very small. You’ll have to make a very strong case. And you send me records outside my area of interest that I’m never ever going to like, even though others will. Good for them, but not me.

This is how it works today. Everybody can play, but not everybody can win.

Let me push the button. Most of the people complaining loudly about Spotify and Live Nation payments don’t make music that anybody other than their family wants to hear, if them. But somehow they’re entitled to a living making music?

You took the time to write a book, good for you.

But don’t expect me to read it.

I’ve got better things to do.

I only have one life.

And so do you.

I’m choosing all the time. There’s more I want to consume than I can. But I should spend hours on your crappy book instead?

FUHGEDDABOUDIT!

These should really be three separate posts, but since many people don’t want to read about books at all, I’m consolidating them, to avoid cluttering people’s inboxes. But having said that, as a result I know I won’t do any of them justice, but at least you’ll hear about them.

THE MOST

By Jessica Anthony

https://t.ly/0utyz

If this book were five dollars, or maybe $7.50, I’d tell you to buy it immediately. But since even the Kindle version is $14.99, I’d tell you to get it from Libby, the library app.

If you’re caught up in dead tree world, you might not be aware that the Kindle is burgeoning, as a result of BookTok. Customizing your e-reader is even a thing. But if you do have a Kindle, you can use Libby, and it’s an amazing service. Sure, you might not get the books you want immediately, you might even have to wait months for the books you want, then again I just got the new Rachel Kushner, and that’s hot and barely out.

“The Most” came out on July 30th, but I got it a few weeks back, and I just read it last night. I was not ready to tackle the Kushner, whose previous book was great, despite its predecessor being as about as readable as “Ulysses,” so I looked at what I hadn’t read and found “The Most” and saw it would take just over two hours to read it and I dug in.

It was my kind of book from sentence one. Very readable, very direct, not overladen with description. And I started and finished it last night. And it has stuck with me. But, once again, I can’t advise you spend retail for it unless money doesn’t mean that much to you.

“The Most” is set on November 3, 1957, the day Sputnik 2 was launched, and everybody is talking about it, the way we were infatuated with the Space Race back then.

And at first you think it’s “Revolutionary Road,” but it’s not quite that heavy.

Kathleen was a tennis player… Was she good enough for the majors? Unclear, but back then there was little infrastructure and setting was not the anathema it is today and she gets married to Virgil.

Who is too good-looking for his own good.

They graduate from college and move to Pawtucket and…

Do you ever forget the first one? Does your present love not deliver what your memory of the past focuses on?

What you’ve got here is two people living separate lives together.

And they wrestle with their choices and don’t ultimately come to the conclusions you think they will.

This is your life. This is everybody’s life. We’re making decisions all the time, are they the right ones?

And while I’ve got you, I want to quote a couple of sentences.

“Virgil knew his youngest son would likely suffer until he left school altogether.”

School is a game where those who conform win. But once you graduate it’s the opposite, it’s those who don’t obey boundaries, who color outside the lines, who break tradition, who succeed.

“…and because Colson Beckett was the sort of man who believed his opinion was so good it was always worth repeating…”

We all know people like this.

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

Claire Lombardo

https://t.ly/ZlDmj

I was wary of this book, because the best reviews came from “People” and “Parade,” and often what is recommended by these mainstream publications is lowbrow which I find unfulfilling and…the book is 496 pages long.

But I realized I’d read Lombardo’s previous book, “The Most Fun We Ever Had,” and had enjoyed it, so I dug in.

I am not recommending “Same As It Ever Was” to the casual reader. I won’t say it’s a slog, but it’s not a page-turner, it’s not laden with explosions.

What we’ve got here is a wife who doesn’t believe she fits in and the choices she makes, which are not always good ones.

And there are certain plot points that take the entire book to play out, to be revealed, and that is ultimately satisfying, but according to my Kindle it took twelve hours and change to read this book, and that may just be too much for many people.

Just like with “His Three Daughters,” unless you’ve been in the situation, you may not be able to fully relate. But what we’ve got here is a husband and his friends who come from well-adjusted families, whereas Julia was raised by a single parent who seemed resentful of her existence.

How does someone cope with Julia, and how does Julia cope herself?

This is a good book. But not the best book. If you’re a dedicated reader of family/relationship fiction, who loves to be engrossed in a long story, you will like “Same As It Ever Was.” Family life plays out in unpredictable ways. There are victories and losses. How do you cope with the choices your children make, how do you keep a relationship together?

Ultimately I liked “Same At It Ever Was,” more than liked it. But when I thought it was predictable a quarter of the way through, I winced and almost gave up, but ultimately it’s not predictable.

“Same At It Ever Was” is not lowbrow. It’s just not the kind of literary fiction the big kahunas trumpet. It is rewarding. You know if this is your kind of book.

BANAL NIGHTMARE

Halle Butler

https://t.ly/2re0a

Ultimately I was riveted by this book, it has stuck with me for weeks. I read it on a long plane ride and didn’t have time to write about it and all the online scuttlebutt said it was all about the previous book, “The New Me,” supposedly the definitive millennial statement, so I figured I’d write about “Banal Nightmare” when I finished “The New Me.” But I may never finish “The New Me,” it is similar in style to “Banal Nightmare,” but nowhere near as good, so I’m writing about “Banal Nightmare” now.

The style will trip you up. The perspective, the speaker can change in the  middle of a chapter. You’re reading one paragraph and then in the next paragraph you have no idea what is going on, and you don’t understand until a few paragraphs later. This is off-putting, I almost gave up, I’m glad I didn’t.

What we’ve got here is a woman who breaks up with her boyfriend, realizes it’s not for the long haul, and moves back to her college town, where her friends still live.

There are cliques. She doesn’t adjust her personality and doesn’t fit in.

And the people in the cliques… Some are in good marriages, some are in bad. Some people are oblivious and some people have a good grip on their situation. Do you take dramatic steps and change your life or ride with what you’ve got, afraid of risk?

But the main reason I’m recommending this book is because I have never, NEVER seen such an accurate description of relationships in the late twenty-early thirtysomething time frame.

Sure, there are a lot of people writing about this, but they usually get it wrong.

Sure, the perspective is that of millennials, but I could completely relate, and was glad I was no longer in that situation.

Not only are you navigating friend groups, not only are you pondering your “career,” you’re looking for the one, are you ever going to find the one?

Do you click or not? Everything in life is about clicking, and it’s something you feel, not something you can plot out on paper.

Some might find “Banal Nightmare” frustrating. They don’t like life to be messy. They like to make a choice and move on, forgetting about the past, assuming anybody can really do that.

You’re so lost at that age.

Oh, you can buy the b.s., the same one sold by the system I was referencing above, in “The Most,” you can color inside the lines, as a boomer become a doctor or lawyer, as a millennial become a financier or a programmer, but are you going to wake up one day and be dissatisfied?

And then there are those who are forging their own path, it’s so murky.

“Banal Nightmare” has stuck with me. But I think two-thirds of the people will reject it on style alone. And then there are those who hate whining.

But in “The Most” Kathleen was involved with an intellectual, forget what he looked like, she was stimulated by him. Was he the right one?

And Virgil can screw any woman he wants, he’s that good-looking, and he does. But does that fulfill him?

We’re all asking ourselves these questions, or variations on them, our entire lives. And we don’t want to miss it, we don’t want to wake up and find our complacency has limited our outcomes.

This is why we read, this is why fiction is so great, you’re confronted with life and your own choices, you are forced to think. And in truth, we’re all thinking all the time.

I’d recommend “The Most” to all, not that I think everybody will get through it.

If you remember being tortured by life, relationships and career choices in your twenties or thirties, or are still that age, I’d recommend “Banal Nightmare,” but still, because of the style, it’s not for everyone.

If you’re the kind of person who always has a book on the nightstand, who reads every evening, enjoys a long family saga, I recommend “Same At It Ever Was.”

If you’re someone who only reads one or two books a year, don’t bother with any of these, I’ve got better recommendations.

But if you’re a regular reader and looking for what’s next, check them out.

Songwriter/producer Lauren Christy has worked with everybody from Avril Lavigne to Jason Mraz to Korn to Bebe Rexha and many more. This is her story.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/lauren-christy/id1316200737?i=1000670767228

 

 

 

https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/9ff4fb19-54d4-41ae-ae7a-8a6f8d3dafa8/episodes/8917bdbb-5721-43fb-bd4b-6d21b6db56e9/the-bob-lefsetz-podcast-lauren-christy