Peter Green

Fleetwood Mac meant little in the U.S. Their singles did not burn up the chart, and in the incarnation that featured Peter Green, there was almost no underground FM radio other than in the metropolis, if that. In other words, getting into Fleetwood Mac was a secret process, via word of mouth, there was no big ad campaign, no media presence at all, but as a result of touring some people knew the band…but very few.

Whilst the Brits were embracing the blues, in America we were focused on folk. The blues legends walking in our midst didn’t impress us, weren’t exotic, the pop chart was filled with studio concoctions, like in that movie “The Idolmaker.” It’s not radically different today if you think about it. Fabian was a big star, his name was everywhere, ever hear anybody talk about him recently, even heard his music on the radio? Of course not, it was disposable.

But in the U.K., the blues records imported by sailors and embraced by the populous inspired teenagers to pick up the guitar. They were wailing while across the pond people were sleeping. The cultural consciousness in America was ruled by the Yankees, Mickey Mantle was a bigger star than any musician.

And then came the Beatles.

When the Beatles arrived in the U.S. they were fully-formed. It would be like getting version 3.0 of the software instead of the beta. They’d paid their dues on the road, they’d had radio success in the U.K. and when America saw them on Ed Sullivan…it wiped what had come before right off the map, instantly. You see there was a ready stable of acts to follow the Beatles in their invasion of the U.S. If it wasn’t British, it wasn’t cool. And Americans didn’t reign again until the San Francisco sound, which started to make a dent in ’67, three years later.

In the interim, Dylan went electric. Folk music disappeared, other than at singalongs at summer camps and houses of worship. And if you wanted to know which way the wind blew, you turned on the radio.

And at this point, most people were still buying singles. The album truly didn’t become desirable until “Sgt. Pepper,” and that was in ’67. And sure, the Yardbirds had hit with “For Your Love” and to a lesser degree “Heart Full of Soul,” but gunslingers, guitar gods, were not yet a thing. George Harrison was good enough for us. Until Jimi Hendrix. An American who had to fly across the pond to get recognized.

But the music Hendrix was making…they never played it on AM radio. It was an underground thing. But then along came Cream, and in the summer of ’68, “Sunshine of Your Love” crossed over to AM radio and the hoi polloi, your regular American, was exposed to the album rock sound, something not made for AM radio, records that were embraced by AM for fear their audience would defect. Which eventually it did, but in most burgs it took until the seventies before FM, which was no longer underground and free-form, was a thing.

Now when an act hits, listeners go back to the catalog. Back before you were expected to have a hit the first time out, when you were trying to create a body of work, when it was about the music…and the money and the chicks…in that order. Brand? Endorsements? Privates? Sponsors? They weren’t even a thing. If for no other reason than being a musician paid well enough, assuming your manager didn’t rip you off, or you didn’t blow all the money. There were no billionaires. If you were a star, you had plenty. And you didn’t want to compromise the music, no way.

So, suddenly, starting in ’67, Clapton became God. To a small cadre of listeners, members of the mainstream public didn’t come along until Cream’s final album “Goodbye.” As for Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck…well, Beck was that guy in “Blow-Up,” but that’s all most people knew of him, if they knew him at all.

But they knew Clapton so they needed more, and they went back to the source, John Mayall’s “Blues Breakers” album, with a young Eric on the cover. Older boomers were cottoning to the blues sound, they were moving away from AM, breaking their own trail, you didn’t want to be a member of the group in the sixties, being unique was a badge of honor.

So, just like with the British Invasion following the Beatles, there was one that followed Hendrix and Clapton. Eventually, in ’69, Led Zeppelin appeared, but that band didn’t really hit until the fall of ’70, with “Whole Lotta Love,” they went from unknown to everywhere, but by this time, Peter Green had already left Fleetwood Mac.

Now a few fans of the “Blues Breakers” album stayed with Mayall and purchased the next LP, “A Hard Road,” with Peter Green, but the star, the attraction to the previous LP, was Eric Clapton, and they followed E.C. and his work and some of the new bands who were less steeped in the blues, who injected more rock, which were coming to America in droves.

And in the fall of ’69, assuming you were looking, assuming you went to a record shop as opposed to a discount store stocked by a rack jobber, you saw the Fleetwood Mac LP “Then Play On” in the bins, with its attractive cover, but once again, you had to buy it to hear it, and not hearing it on the radio, most people did not.

Now it was different in the U.K. Peter Green was a known quantity. As were Mick Fleetwood and John McVie. And the country was smaller and radio was more open and the band got airplay over there, but absolutely none in the U.S. Except for “Oh Well,” which somehow made it to #55 on the “Billboard” chart, but this was pre-Soundscan, when the chart was manipulated, and in reality, anything below 40, really more like 20, wasn’t played anyway. Yes, underground FM stations were playing it, but once again, there weren’t that many of them and they had no chart…that would be offensive to the ethos of the format.

So I knew “Oh Well.” From the radio. But I was lucky enough to be in the New York radio market.

But there were Fleetwood Mac fans. Primarily from the road work the band did. You hoped radio and the road went hand in hand, but prior to “Then Play On” Fleetwood Mac was on Blue Horizon, with little budget or impact, whereas “Then Play On” was on Reprise.

But then, Fleetwood Mac became known for its bizarre story as opposed to its music. Yes, by this time there was a rock press. And word was spread that Peter Green had left Fleetwood Mac because he was mentally ill, back when this had a huge stigma, when no one admitted it. Better to O.D. than to quit because you were hobbled by the problems in your brain.

The remaining members regrouped and recorded “Kiln House,” and delivered a radio track, “Station Man,” broadening its audience. But then Jeremy Spencer left the band mid-tour to join the Children of God, back when cults were new…you couldn’t help wonder what inspired him, especially in an era were musicians were gods.

Meanwhile, Christine McVie joined the band…she was a known quantity in the U.K., but completely unknown in the U.S. Paul McCartney let his wife Linda sing and play, but that was considered a joke, but Christine came with a CV and her presence added an exotic element, as well as a new dimension to the sound.

And now, being part of the Warner family, there was album after album until… The band’s manager, Clifford Davis, put a bogus version of the act on the road to fulfill dates and the story blew up, bigger than the music ever had. Could you get your money back if you bought a ticket? Who owned the name? How could he do this? The story was in the rock press for months.

And then the band comes back, astoundingly, because this looked like the end, yet now everybody knew their name and “Heroes are Hard to Find” was their biggest LP ever in the U.S. and then guitarist Bob Welch promptly quit.

This is where the rest of the public comes in, at this down and out moment Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham are asked to join the band, and the rest is history.

A long history. With multiple guitarists and sounds. And Peter Green was at the beginning, his story was mostly unknown.

But the fan base the band had remembered him, so when Stevie and Lindsey came on board…they had to play his songs. Lindsey could play “Oh Well” – both “Pt. 1” and “Pt. 2,” they went together, the first raucous, the second slow and meaningful, kinda like “Layla” if you think about it, and “Green Manalishi” was often part of the set too.

But Lindsey didn’t write them.

Today there are ten year olds who can shred like Jimmy Page.

But they can’t write. And few can sing. As a matter of fact, even Jimmy Page can’t sing. But Peter Green could do all three! And he was there at the beginning, he was inventing the sound, plowing the way.

Progenitors. They don’t often get the acclaim they deserve. Or they get a victory lap or an award way down the line. But without them, history would be different.

Now by time the Stevie/Lindsey Fleetwood Mac became superstars, people hungered for more information, and the saga of Peter Green became more well-known. And eventually Green even re-emerged, a shadow of his former self, but he could still play.

And now he’s dead.

The truth is Fleetwood Mac could never replace Peter Green. It was impossible. You see at this level, everybody’s got a different style, a different tone, as for writing…

“Oh Well” wasn’t Peter Green’s only composition that lives on.

There’s the aforementioned “Green Manalishi.”

And “Albatross,” a track that most boomers have heard, but being an instrumental many are unaware it’s written and played by Peter Green, never mind Fleetwood Mac.

And, of course, “Black Magic Woman.” The biggest hit Santana ever had, other than those on the ersatz comeback album of 1999, but I ask you, when was the last time you heard “Smooth,” never mind “Maria Maria.” You see those two tracks are commerce, “Black Magic Woman” is art, like it says in the title, MAGIC!

Now Carlos and his band did an incredible version of “Black Magic Woman,” but the blueprint was right there in the original, which is more stripped-down, and has more soul.

And to this day, most people don’t know “Black Magic Woman” was written by Peter Green, never mind that it’s a Fleetwood Mac original.

So, what have we learned?

Not much about Peter Green the man, he’s an enigma. Oh, when he was smoothed out in his later years, he gave some interviews, but that does not mean they contained the truth, never mind the whole story. A story wherein a teenager practices and practices for his opportunity, truly becomes world class, and not only reaches the pinnacle, playing with John Mayall, but then breaks away and leaves an indelible mark on rock history.

If he’d died in a plane crash, if as a result even AM radio played “Oh Well” and “Albatross,” he’d have the name value of Ritchie Valens or the Big Bopper, who left much less of a footprint, or the rest of those who succumbed to tragedy in rock history.

But Peter Green lived on. He was hiding in plain sight, and now he’s gone.

Kind of like the delta blues legends who inspired him and his cohorts to begin with.

It’s been a long time. Over fifty years. Longer than it took for Robert Johnson to infect all these British legends. And in this case, all the recordings still exist, and they’re not disposable crap, like the stuff on “Supernatural,” they’re pure, they’re instruction manuals, they’re easily accessible to everyone online.

So, the book closes on Peter Green. But in truth, the book closed on the sound he helped create long ago. It’s not the sound the current iteration of Fleetwood Mac purveys, it’s not what youngsters are exploring today, it’s dormant. Oh, you can hear it on oldies stations, classic rock, but I haven’t heard of any youngsters doing anything other than imitating guitar gods, if that, never mind being inspired to write something new, that pushes the envelope.

And speaking of writing… Got to give Jimmy Page credit, even if some of his great compositions were “inspired,” or totally ripped-off from others. But as I said above, Page can’t sing.

And neither can Jeff Beck, the best gunslinger of them all, he can’t really even write.

And then there’s Eric Clapton. Who has been able to do all three. But Duane Allman wrote and played the legendary riff on “Layla.” And…oh, I don’t need to bring Clapton down a notch, I’ll just say that Peter Green was in his league. And years from now, when all these legends are gone, and we realize what’s been lost, we’ll study this era and only the music will remain, and Peter Green will ascend to his rightful place in the pantheon.

This is what happens when you practice, follow your muse, get inspired, lay it all down. Your streak might be very brief, but your mark will be left for ages to come.

Like Peter Green’s.

AOC Gave The Most Important Feminist Speech In A Generation

What kind of crazy, fucked-up world do we live in where AOC is bigger than any rapper, rocker or country singer?

One in which there are a limited number of House seats and AOC knows truth resonates and if you’re not pushing the envelope, you’re getting no attention.

Virality. Doesn’t happen in music anymore. Maybe on TikTok, but TikTok is a fad. What I mean by that is people want to make videos of themselves, but they don’t necessarily need to do it on TikTok, and the story of the internet is once creators realize the attention is not worth the effort, they stop. In other words, everybody was gonna have a homepage, then everybody was gonna have a blog, then everybody was gonna live on Twitter and Facebook and…right now people are on Instagram and the aforementioned TikTok, but the views, unless you’re a star, a known quantity, are low, and there are better uses of your time than to cut down a tree in a forest no one even knows exists. Yes, most of the promises of the internet didn’t come true, or they exist with a twist. Single people believed by widening the pool, with internet dating, they’d be able to find the perfect person, not realizing the problem was within, that the reason they’re not coupled is because of their own flaws. And we heard all this hogwash about the long tail, but the truth is most of the action is at the head of the tail, because people want context, they want to belong, and if you’re a fan of somebody or something no one knows about, it’s very lonely. And sure, the best stuff doesn’t always gain attention, but generally speaking the quality at the head is much higher than it is at the tail.

So… In music, we’ve got no limit, everybody can play. The owners of the system profess otherwise, with their charts, organizing the game for consumption by…whom? The Top Forty of today is not like the Top Forty of yesteryear, when all genres existed side by side, rather today’s Top Forty is narrow, and a great percentage of the public has no idea who those at the top of the chart are, never mind their music. And therefore, the music business diminishes itself every damn day, just like the local newspapers, who cut the newshole down to the point where there was nothing left anymore. People don’t want the local newspaper, and they don’t want a lot of what is pushed down their throat by the major labels and the sycophantic media lining up to trumpet its wares, without evaluating the story.

So, if AOC was a local representative, in New York State government, she could say the same things and it would be heard by few. There are just too many representatives in state government, you can’t make sense of it. And many are ridiculed by John Oliver every week, they garner little respect, they’re lucky no one is paying attention.

But AOC is one of 535 congresspeople. There are no more slots. Membership is inherently limited. And you can’t get in via false hype. I’m not saying that everybody elected is worthy and trustworthy, I’m just saying there’s some scrutiny, and you can buy all the ads you want, but if you’re nobody from nowhere, good luck, even if you’re somebody from somewhere you’re gonna have trouble, like Mike Bloomberg.

Congress is a system. Where you pay your dues. Work your way up the ladder, to ultimately head committees, if you last that long. And if you upset the system, they don’t like it. AOC decided to upset the system, she didn’t worry about being labeled an upstart, she questioned the hierarchy, and although Congress pushed back, it turned out a big slice of the public was on her side, and elected people always pay attention to constituents, it’s how they get elected, they read the polls. Which is another reason why AOC is so attractive news-wise, she doesn’t seem to. She acts like she’s powerful and she’ll be there forever, like her endorsement counts.

AND SHE’S A WOMAN!

The music business argues how many women are on country radio, how many women run entities in the business. But, AOC won by taking charge, she knew she’d get blowback, but she didn’t care, she was speaking from the heart, what’s right. But the music business is one of a secret hierarchy, everybody is afraid they’ll be canceled. And therefore it’s not only women who are afraid to speak up, but men too. The boss doesn’t like uppity people, he, and it’s almost always a he, wants it his way. And if you don’t kiss butt, if you make waves, maybe radio won’t play your record. And you’ve got to kiss Spotify and Apple’s ass to get playlisted and by time you start…you’re already compromised. In an era where you can go directly to the public, our artists are hobbled by the insiders, they won’t fight the system unless they aren’t members of the system, like the same people with few followers who complain on Twitter…no one is seeing their tweets! Now I’m not saying women should “step up,” but I am saying change comes from those who question the status quo, who grab the flag and run with it. And the Grammys hires someone like that, and then they fired Deborah Dugan, because she wanted change too quickly, the men circled the wagons and…never gave a good reason why Dugan needed to be canned, and handled the PR horribly, and the end result is the Grammys will never recover, they’ve got a permanent stain, they thought they won when they lost, the same way the labels and publishers breathed a sigh of relief when they killed Napster, not knowing it was only the beginning, and it was going to get worse. So, we’re waiting for a few good men, and women, to challenge the system…but you could lose everything in the process. But AOC could lose everything, if she doesn’t get re-elected, she’ll be done in the public sector, the spotlight will not be upon her, but she continues to hang it all out there.

AND SHE SEIZED THE MOMENT!

This is what musicians do so poorly today. They wait for consensus. They don’t take action immediately, they don’t want to go first, they’re like teens needing to be a member of the group. And if someone does lead, they won’t follow, they don’t want to hurt their “career.” How did we get to this point? Where the most fluid and immediate art form takes a back seat?

AOC calls members of Congress to testify to abuse, and the record business wants everybody to post a black square online, come on.

But this is not AOC’s only play. Nothing lasts today, you’ve got to take a stand each and every day, be in the public eye always. But then you get musicians making albums because THEY need to make a statement, but the public no longer consumes music this way. Artists tell me media won’t review their work unless it’s an album…so, you’re placating media instead of the customer? And your album comes out and…then what? Unless you’re in the Spotify Top 50, your effort is over in a week, it’s like your work didn’t come out at all. Quick, anybody talk to you about John Bolton’s book this week? No, that’s already old news, just like the album you spent years working on.

BUT PEOPLE HATE AOC!

Not everyone. If you’re not willing to alienate some to bond to others, you’ve got no credibility, no sticking power.

And AOC is not in it for the money, but the message. But in music all we get is people bitching they can’t make enough. It’s about the message, the identity, it’s about being uncompromised!

So now AOC’s endorsement means more than that of senior congresspeople. She did this herself. She didn’t ask, she took, because she knew she was right. If you’re not acting from the heart, you’re gonna get busted.

AND AOC IS ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF HISTORY!

That’s how it works in the U.S. It seems impossible, the issue has been raised for decades, and then seemingly overnight, the screw turns. Can you say gay marriage and legal marijuana? Polls say most people do believe black lives matter, they sympathize with the protesters. Of course not all citizens do, but if you want to placate everybody that means you can’t play at all, you remove yourself from the discussion.

And the last I checked, more than half of the population is female. We’ve all got a mother, maybe sisters too. Abuse of women is something we encounter every day. So, what are we gonna do, mutter anti-woman epithets sotto voce? Well, Yoho tried this, even though he’s trying to rewrite history, AOC heard his utterance. Yoho has been emboldened by Trump, believing you can say anything with no lasting effect, and that people are against AOC. But only SOME people. And in today’s internet world, if you say the wrong thing, everybody, at least everybody who cares, soon knows.

So, in a world of cacophony, everybody knows who AOC is, when I guarantee you most people don’t know who is #1 at Spotify, and don’t care!

And AOC is not selling herself out, becoming a brand for the man.

Once again, the playbook AOC is employing is the one musicians used to own. The one Grace Slick used to make herself a star. But no, today you don’t want to hurt your image.

This is about the message, not the woman. Don’t make this about AOC, I don’t care if you dislike her. But the truth is she is harnessing the zeitgeist and hammering it over and over again, not backing down, she’s showing backbone…AND THAT’S WHAT THE PEOPLE ARE LOOKING FOR, IN 2020 MORE THAN EVER!

The Ballad of Tommy LiPuma

These books always suck. A friend, or the writer himself, believes someone with a foothold in the music business once upon a time, even a household name, deserves to have their story written and the result is…unreadable. First and foremost because the author can’t write. And they don’t understand one of the great rules of writing, that sometimes you have to leave the best stuff out, because it doesn’t serve the story you’re telling. The authors are so busy cramming their tomes with stories and facts that the end result is unreadable, and readability is the key. You want readers, and if they’re turned off, your project is a failure. But at least once a week someone begs to send me their book, oftentimes self-published, believing if they just get a little publicity they’ll have a best-seller, and they can smile in satisfaction while they make a bit of money.

But these books always fail.

So they pile up in my house until there’s a day when I course through them, quickly, and put them in the discard pile. And today I had five. I allotted twenty minutes, that was more than enough, but I saved Ben Sidran’s book on Tommy LiPuma for last, because Ben had written me a personal note and Ralph Simon had told me about it on the phone. I just had to convince myself it sucked, and then toss it, justified in my non-read, no matter how close a friend Ralph is. We’re all overscheduled, we all have no time – to listen to someone’s album, to read their book, to watch their movie or TV show is a huge commitment. Usually their friends do and say how great it is, so you can read the few reviews online, and the creator can believe they were a victim of the system, when nothing could be further from the truth.

So, I’ve scheduled this twenty minutes because I’m expecting a delivery, and there’s not enough time to accomplish anything else.

So I started Ben Sidran’s Tommy LiPuma book at 1:15 in the afternoon, and I just finished it at 7:30 tonight. I could not put it down. I blew off everything else, I watched the day fade away, I was engrossed.

I used to hear from Tommy LiPuma all the time, and unlike most of the oldsters, he did not e-mail me to correct me, or to tell me I did not have the complete story, as if I can write an encyclopedia on every subject. Tommy was always friendly and accessible, and informative at the same time. He dealt with me like an equal, which is rare, the music business is one of hierarchy, people look down on you, even if their success happened long ago, they want to send the message that you do not deserve entrance into their club.

And Tommy lived longer than so many of his compatriots. He would weigh in with tidbits when they passed. And then, suddenly, Tommy passed too. He wasn’t supposed to. The longer you live, the longer you live. Statistically that’s true. Think about it. And I have honestly felt his absence in my inbox for the past couple of years, but not so much I was gonna read a bad book about him.

“The Ballad of Tommy LiPuma” is different from all the dreck. You see it’s a compendium of stories. That’s the essence of the entertainment business. Sure, there are some stars, but they can only be on stage an hour or two every night. And it’s a business of grifters and criminals…you need no CV to get into the music business, usually it’s a hindrance, it comes down to who you are.

And Tommy LiPuma was the son of an immigrant barber. Living in Cleveland, cutting hair himself, eventually going on the road to play with a band and getting burned out by the one nighters, deciding to go straight. But he could only cut hair one day, and then he got a job schlepping boxes in the warehouse of a record distributor. How did he get this job? Via the contacts he made as a barber. Right place, right time. Tommy cut hair at the epicenter of radio in Cleveland. And Tommy’s dad could not fathom this choice, making less than a barber shipping boxes, what kind of future was that?

Not the kind you get going to an Ivy League school, getting a graduate degree. you believe that education allows you to start…at least in the middle. But not in the music business, you’ve got to start at the bottom, pay your dues and earn your ascension. Working in the entertainment business is not a right, but a privilege, and to succeed you need to get along, know people and work your network, being good is not good enough.

So, eventually Tommy becomes a radio promotion man, first in L.A., then in New York, and then goes into publishing. You’ve got to do what’s in your heart, what you’re good at. Tommy tried to sell records, he was bad at it. He could do the promo gig, it’s just that he wanted to be closer to the music. And from publishing Tommy went into record production and there begins a storied career.

So, when you get together with music people, it’s all about their stories. Some are famous for it. Donald Tarlton has had me in stitches multiple times, talking about the night the Who got locked up in jail after a Montreal show. Donald got money from the mob, and when he went to bail them out, the members of the band had their hands on the bars and were singing “Don’t Fence Me In.” I’m not sure if that reads funny, but if you heard Donald tell it, the same way he told the story of his thirty minute disco at Expo 67, you’d never forget it. You see there are some facts, which you embellish, which you rearrange, and then you puff yourself up, pump the adrenaline, and do your best to be a great raconteur. Hell, Joe Smith was more famous as a toastmaster than as a record executive. Sure, I’m stretching the truth, but I can remember Joe telling me the story of “Workingman’s Dead”…he signed the band, he kept begging them to make one for ME, and they finally did.

So, the intro to this book says it’s based on stories Tommy told Ben. Oh, there are biographical elements, but then every event, recording the Sandpipers (who knew they were originally the “Grads”?), forming Blue Thumb with Bob Krasnow, cutting “Breezin'” is told as if you were sitting at Martoni’s and Tommy sauntered in and sat down and told you what just happened. Most people are not famous, it’s these stories that are the highlight of their lives.

As for the origin story…

I guess people today don’t understand how those of yesteryear fell into the business. They loved music and they got an opportunity and they kept following that opportunity. Most got spit out, but some kept going and stayed in.

You can’t quantify music. No way. Just because a track reaches #1 we all know that does not mean it’s great. How do you create a great record, how do you capture that magic?

There are some tricks in this book, but I would not read it for that, in reality it’s history. Anybody who survives from the golden years, who is still working at a label today, will tell you it’s the same as it ever was, that today’s acts are just as good, and if you don’t think that way you’re an old fart. But that’s not what it says in this book. Tommy says when the bean counters came in, it was all over. Now it’s all about priorities, there is no artist development. People tell me all the time of the story of artist development on an act, and it’s always about ONE ALBUM! On Warner Brothers, they’d give you a chance to make four or five, to find yourself, to establish a base. Today, if you don’t hit right away, you’re done. And did you read Neil Shah’s story in the “Wall Street Journal” today?

“From Rihanna to Kanye West: Why Music’s Biggest Stars Aren’t Focused on Actual Music – Between fashion collabs, music-competition shows and selling rosé, artists are choosing to follow the money – and the money isn’t in albums”

Everybody on the inside knows this, they’ve known it for years, but when it’s printed in the financial paper of record…the investors know it, the same people who fund the music business (all three major labels are publicly traded, if not alone, as part of a larger conglomerate), and suddenly it’s common knowledge. Yes, we’ve been selling the emperor’s new clothes. Accept it.

And as this article proves, it’s all about the money. Acts will do anything for money, even play for dictators. Credibility is secondary to income and lifestyle. So, if you’re Tommy LiPuma who got into the business for the music, your stomach turns and you retire.

Actually, I think this article in the “Wall Street Journal” is a good thing. Maybe it can represent a turning point, getting back to the garden, making it about music, the most powerful elixir in life other than sex.

So, if you want to know how it used to be, read this book.

But the truth is most youngsters today don’t care, the only thing they want to know about the past is what to sample.

But if you were there, these stories will resonate, and you’ll learn new things. And unlike Clive’s book and movie and…this is not hagiography, it’s just the story of a life (and Tommy takes a swing at Clive too, he doesn’t respect the music “Mr. Music” is responsible for, other than Whitney Houston, he thinks it’s evanescent junk. But Clive is a master of promotion, and the dumb media plays along and we end up where we are today. Clive goes to the studio and his behavior makes Tommy wince.)

So “The Ballad of Tommy LiPuma” is readable. I can’t believe Ben remembered all these stories, but in the intro he says they were good friends. And it demonstrates how nobody from nowhere can make it in music by sheer will and desire…and a passion for the music. And the truth is all those high-paying jobs, especially on Wall Street, they’re essentially empty, there’s no nourishment of the soul, workers just take this cash to buy front row seats, to use their connections to get screeners, because it’s entertainment that rules this world.

And Tommy LiPuma knew how to create it. For every project he had a vision. And he cast his players accordingly. And he learned from Phil Spector to respect his players, and some of the best records were cut very quickly. Today they hammer these tracks trying to make them perfect, when the truth is you either catch lightning in a bottle, or you don’t, it’s just that simple.

My favorite story in the book is the recording of “Only You Know and I Know,” the opening cut on Dave Mason’s legendary “Alone Together.”

“But what really made the song happen was Jim Gordon’s drum part. ‘The rhythm pattern he came up with,’ says Tommy, “which was like a march, just opened the door to the song. When I heard it, even though it was just bass and drums (the initial recording), I knew I had the goods.'”

VOILA!

The record is fresh, timeless. Whenever I write about it people e-mail about the Delaney & Bonnie version, which came out first, which of course I own, demonstrating their “knowledge.” But it’s not about knowledge, it’s about FEEL, it’s something elusive, which is why even though you know the stats, you cannot work in the music business, why trained musicians usually fail in popular music.

I could never put my finger on it. Why I could never burn out on “Only You Know and I Know,” what made it so endearing, to the point every time I hear it it seems brand new, today I found the missing link, now I can see the whole picture, it’s the DRUMS! And Tommy goes on to say the drums are the one thing you’ve got to get right, you can wipe everything else, replace it, but if the drum track is not right, your recording will never be right.

“‘Cause you know, that I mean what I say”

And what I say is if you’re the audience for this book, you’ll dig it.
I’ll let you decide whether it was written for you.

Harlan Coben’s latest book, “The Boy From The Woods,” entered the “New York Times” best seller chart at #1 in April. His breakthrough, “Tell No One,” was made into a Top Ten-listed film, and presently Coben has four successful series on Netflix: “The Five,” “Safe,” “The Stranger” and “The Woods.” Listen as Coben lays down the truth of the writing life, and the long hard road to getting film and television projects into production. Despite spending his days writing, Coben is a great conversationalist whose words are laden with insight. Listen.

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