You gotta keep your love
Keep your love alive

For rock music.

I woke up today and my brain was playing this song. I was kinda fuzzy, like I’d been through something.

They call it music.

Elle King… A constant warning to take the other direction, as Jim Carroll once sang. Completely different from everything in the Spotify Top 50. Music played with guitars, a band, with a frontwoman with pipes and soul. You used to gain attention by being on the radio, through your records, now it’s appearing live. Most people have never heard of you, never mind your music. That’s the essence of festivals today, grazing, checking out the new and different to see if anything’s worth paying attention to. And the epicenter is the Newport Folk Festival. It’s the antithesis of the shiny happy people topping Spotify. It’s not about a certain headliner, but a scene, which its members feel part of. I’d rather see brand expansion on Newport than any other festival. I got there early just to see Elle, and she delivered.

Unlike Joan Jett.

What kind of crazy, fucked-up world do we live in where Joan Jett is a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Heart isn’t?

One in which the Hall has been compromised by personal agendas. Now membership means nothing, it just shows some insider has a hard-on for you. Used to be a badge of honor to be included, now I think it’s more of a badge of honor to be EXCLUDED! Like Todd Rundgren. He’s got more talent in his little finger than Joan Jett. And he writes, plays, produces and engineers. But no, he can’t be in the Hall, even though “Hello It’s Me” has as much ubiquity as Jett’s hits, even though he’s been responsible for more hits, can you say WE’RE AN AMERICAN BAND?

Jett’s lead guitarist looked like he’d escaped from a mental hospital. His hair slicked up, he was too old for this. You wished he’d sacrificed the tattoos and gotten a day job, it’s not the eighties anymore.

And Kenny Laguna was a laughingstock. Evidence of what a manager should not do. He played on stage in his street clothes and then took the mic and rambled at length TWICE! As if he was the act. And maybe he’s responsible for Jett’s success, but come on man, isn’t the money enough? Can’t you kvell in private? Insiders know what you did, outsiders just don’t care.

But I’ll admit to enjoying “Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah),” with its “oh yeah” break. But Joan didn’t even nail her hits, i.e. “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll” and “I Hate Myself For Loving You”…you’d think she’d have them dialed in after all this time, but no, they missed a bit, like a high school band performing them, and as far as the closer, Sly & the Family Stone’s “Everyday People”… Why? Then again, at this late date, even though she has not come out of the closet, Jett is a gay icon, and a lot of her fans were in attendance.

Actually, that’s something that stunned me. The Bowl was essentially sold out. This bill has been tearing it up all over the country. Do people want nostalgia? Or to see women perform? Or..?

One thing’s for sure, when word gets out how great Heart still is, attendance will go up, THEY WOWED US!

Now they had three guitarists. I haven’t seen this configuration since Keith Urban shows. As well as a bass and keyboard player and drummer.

And they started with a hit, “Bebe Le Strange”‘s “Rockin’ Heaven Down,” you know with that guitar figure intro and then Ann Wilson’s voice…

That was the shocker of the evening, Ann Wilson’s vocals. She hasn’t lost a step, no range, the old classic male rockers voices’ are compromised, we cut them a break in concert, but Ann’s voice was still there, it was marvelous and overwhelming.

And Ann and the band knew what they were doing. They were there to knock our socks off, there’s no way anybody could have followed them. It was like the seventies all over again, you were jetted back to that era, when you were addicted to FM radio and out of the airwaves exploded an unheard band from Seattle on an indie label.

And that was the following number, “Magic Man”…there’s no boomer who doesn’t know it.

Come on home girl
Mama cried on the phone
Too soon to lose my baby
And my girl should be at home
But try to understand
Try to understand
Try, try, try to understand
He’s a magic man mama

Sisters who followed the sound, who went off the beaten path, who weren’t put together in a fake band by Kim Fowley, who were addicted to the sound and were willing to sacrifice everything to pursue it.

But the best part of “Magic Man” was the break. They played all the sounds, it was the record, it wasn’t on hard drive, but you felt there was no way they’d be able to execute it, down to the synth sound. It was a revelation, a stunner, this is what we came for, even if we didn’t know it. The band is tight as can be, firing on all cylinders, we were taken away, just like we used to be.

The third number was “Love Alive,” quoted above.

It was about this time that I realized how many hits Heart had, that they could do a whole show of them, why do they get no respect?

With Nancy picking, demonstrating chops equivalent to the boys, I was reminded of what once was and suddenly was back, that exhilaration of the sound, when we all lived for it, when it wasn’t about brand extension, but what was in the grooves.

But then the surprise of all surprises. You caught it from the beginning but just couldn’t believe it, they were playing…Yes’s “Your Move”? It was positively shocking. With the harmonies. From “The Yes Album,” before the band truly hit. If you were a fan back then your skin tingled. And you remembered how Ann and Nancy were always fans, they were just like us!

And when they finished to thunderous applause, they broke into…

I HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRAPEVINE?

I bet you’re wondering how I knew

I didn’t. But they did. That this would titillate us, get us grooving, illustrating how they were on the same wavelength as those in the crowd. It was a celebration, which broke into “Straight On” and then briefly back. Huh? How’re they doing this, and not having it look like nostalgia?

Then Nancy did a solo “Boxer,” that’s right, the Simon & Garfunkel song, showing that her pipes were strong, that she could hold her own, that Ann wasn’t the only stellar vocalist in the band.

Same deal on “These Dreams,” Nancy’s legendary eighties hit, which was even better than the record, with more gravitas.

Oh, they played “Dog & Butterfly,” risking softness when everybody expected the band to be in their faces.

And I liked “Little Queen” better than the record, it rocked just perfectly.

But even better was “Even It Up.” Which rocked on down the highway as well as any of the vaunted male-led consortiums from back then, demonstrating the band’s power, their drive.

I’ll admit there was one song I didn’t recognize, “Mistral Wind,” even though I own the album it’s on, I guess I just haven’t played it in a while.

And then they went crazy on us. At this point we were smiling, truly the people we once were.

And then the band left the stage.

Now I know they’ve got to play “Barracuda,” and most acts want to go out on a balls-out rocker, but when the band returned, Nancy strode to the front of the stage with her acoustic and started playing…

My body’s tingling again, because I was so shocked and it was so cool, so life-affirming and centering, it was none other than “Stairway To Heaven”!

Of course I know the band’s huge Zeppelin fans. But I expected “Battle Of Evermore,” which the sisters covered in the Lovemongers. I mean it’s the encore, you play your best material and go out.

And Ann’s playing the flute, demonstrating she’s got more talent than you think, and you’re positively stunned, you’re going on a journey, to where you once lived, a land you treaded to the point you know it by heart, but can never go back to. And here’s a band on stage recreating it, as a tribute, but done by them, EVEN BETTER THAN ZEPPELIN COULD DO IT!

Of course Jimmy could play the guitar parts, but there’s no way Plant can hit those high notes anymore, he admits this and has moved on to greener pastures, but Ann Wilson still can, and she’s levitating the whole Bowl.

And as we wind on down the road

We realize we lived through something, something the younger generation can never know. When music drove the culture, when rock was king and we all listened, paid attention, read every word we could about it and went to the show not to shoot selfies, but to have a religious experience.

And Ann Wilson is not one of those melisma masters, a TV contestant with pipes and no soul. She’s comfortable on stage, acting the front person as well as any male. She’s the lead singer, the cherry on top, but she knows the band is right behind her, to support her, to carry the whole enterprise over the top.

Of course they ended with “Barracuda,” after a powerhouse version of “Alone,” but then they were smiling, knowing their work was done, they came to conquer and they did.

Yes, this was the era. When you strove not to be a banker but a musician, when there was no higher calling, when we worshipped the people on stage, when we listened to what they had to say, because they’d been there and done that, they had wisdom.

Now if you think I’m exaggerating, I’m not.

This is not hip-hop, this is not “The Voice,” actually I thought Ann should be a judge, then again, you can’t teach what she’s got, she was born with it, the greatness was intangible, same with her sister Nancy, what environment did these two sisters grow up in that they could create and deliver at this level?

It was like we all decided to go on a trip back together, as ourselves, to explore what was there, how we felt and what parts of that era are still embedded in our souls.

We were a band of wild angels…

Rockin’ heaven down.

Heart is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They were inducted in 2013. But that just shows what a worthless institution it is, I couldn’t remember this. I guess I still can’t get over the fact that Joan Jett is a member. Who next, the Archies? Or maybe the Fugs, they were new and different. And the list of those excluded is too long to list. Herman’s Hermits had much more impact than Joan Jett, but somehow they’re excluded. The R&RHOF is a dead paradigm, it’s run by the tight pants/black leather jacket crew, you know, the wankers in the back of the room who think they know better but never went on a date. But today, those people have no purchase…in a world where no one can know everything and the joke is on those who are proud of being there first and dissing everybody else’s taste. It’s every person for themselves now, and if you find something and like it, more power to you, we’re all overwhelmed. I won’t say that makes it great, but great no longer surfaces all by itself, and too much which is great is never acknowledged.

End of rant.

I hate being wrong.

Tune in tomorrow, Tuesday September 10th, to Volume 106, 7 PM East, 4 PM West.

Phone #: 844-6-VOLUME, 844-686-5863

Twitter: @lefsetz or @siriusxmvolume/#lefsetzlive

Hear the episode live on SiriusXM VOLUME: HearLefsetzLive

If you miss the episode, you can hear it on demand on the SiriusXM app: LefsetzLive

It used to be only the classic acts’ albums tanked immediately.

Now it’s everybody. At least at first.

You debut at the top of the chart, after the execution of the launch plan. The story is everywhere, but the kids don’t care, they just know, the way you used to in the pre-internet days. The music is released, they devour it for two weeks at most, and then they’re on to something else.

At this moment, the highest charting Taylor Swift song is “Lover,” with a downward arrow, at #28. On the Spotify chart, of course. Forget “Billboard,” it’s just a way for the ancients to feel good about themselves. That’s right, “Billboard” is like D.C., seen as behind the times, irrelevant and powerless. The chartmakers check with the labels before they make any changes, meanwhile, life goes on all around without them.

The “Billboard” chart, and now the “Rolling Stone” chart, are manipulated. They take in sales and paid-for streams and non-paid for-streams and radio play and by time they’re done, it does not reflect reality. The truth is, radio today is where you go to resuscitate a track, to push it back up the chart, to get the non-fans interested. Then again, the fans of these acts don’t listen to radio, despite the format’s protestations, despite the majors’ focus on it. They stream and only stream, just like they do with TV. Ever seen a Gen-Z’er sit through commercials on a network program in real time? Impossible!

Used to be labels dripped out tracks, to try to convince you to buy an album. Before they completely eliminated singles and forced you to buy the album for the hit track. But the majors have lost control of distribution, it has become egalitarian, they can only hope that an act’s base is big enough to project it to the top and hope that some looky-loos will come along too.

This week it’s Post Malone. Next week it’ll be someone else. This is completely different from buying an LP and playing it ad infinitum because you can’t afford anything else. Listeners are fans of music more than any particular album, this is what streaming and availability has wrought. You try to make an album have legs, and even the tour doesn’t help much, because the tickets are so expensive the act is playing to fans only.

So it’s about awareness. And then trying to boost the initial weeks’ listening time. And then cleaning up with ticket sales while you work like hell to keep the music alive, which at the present time is mostly done via radio. And what lasts is often that which has never broken before, like Lizzo. She started without a fan base. She’s at the reaching new people/an audience stage now. But soon, with her next LP, she’ll be just like everybody else. There will be anticipation, her tracks will dominate the Top Ten, then they’ll fall off.

It’s not on streaming services.

Oh, it’s on Deezer, where I’m listening now, but that’s the difference between U.S. and Europe, licensing, almost twenty years later the industry still hasn’t gotten its act together, even major label stuff is unavailable, like Steve Winwood’s 1982 album “Talking Back To The Night.” Oh, you can hear “Valerie,” the belated remixed hit on “Revolutions: The Very Best Of Steve Winwood,” but most of the rest of “Talking Back To The Night” is not, his very best that is.

There was the unanticipated comeback, after Winwood had been given up for dead after the failure in the marketplace of his ’77 solo debut. It was not uncommon for stars to fade away. They burned out and did not radiate. But then “Arc Of A Diver” came out three years later and brought Winwood back to the airwaves, you could not escape “While You See A Chance,” and this being the era when no one purchased singles, on the basis of that track boomers went out and purchased the LP and became infatuated, it was a living room staple. So there was great anticipation for its follow-up two years later, “Talking Back To The Night.”

I remember it sounding less vivid, somewhat muted. Until the belated impact of “Valerie,” I remembered it as somewhat of a dud.

Until I listened to it.

You forget how many times you listened to these albums. You were a fan, you purchased the new release immediately and spun it a number of times to get it. And then maybe you moved on if it didn’t resonate at that point, but I didn’t realize how much I continued to play “Talking Back To The Night,” when I was preparing for my Sirius show last week I played it and I was stunned, I knew every lick, it brought me back to that era, but even more I loved those tracks, I was disappointed I could not share them with my Sirius audience, but ever since they’ve been playing in my head, I can’t get anything else in there, they’re on an endless loop. Especially three. Starting with “Big Girls Walk Away”:

“Big Girls Walk Away”

You hold your broken heart out
And you say it won’t stop hurting
Like there’s something I can do

The lyrics are by Will Jennings, a harbinger of what’s to come on “Back In The High Life,” they’re sensitive and insightful, but it’s Winwood’s plaintive delivery that brings them home. And the sound, with the doubled vocal.

And then the mood changes with the chorus:

Big girls walk away

The only other song I know with a similar lyric is the Four Seasons’ “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” which my mother had to buy, she loved it.

And then come the most memorable lines.

You want to play with princes
On a million dollar holiday
But you never met their mothers

She’s a party girl, actually that’s in the lyrics:

You just got so high
Party girl just keep the earrings

It’s an observation, a warning. You picture an elite level of interaction you do not have access to, on the Riviera, where money and looks are everything.

And there’s even a bridge!

The second of the trio is “Help Me Angel”

“Help Me Angel”

It’s the repetition of the title of the song that resonates, only Winwood can turn a phrase into a whole musical experience, moving up and down the scale. And then there’s the synth solo that sounds like a horn. “Help Me Angel” is not the kind of song you listen to on the couch, you move around the house, cleaning up, organizing, nodding your head.

Right before “Help Me Angel” on the LP is “It Was Happiness”

“It Was Happiness”

“It Was Happiness” is an opus, just under five minutes long, with the vibe of “The Finer Things” on “Back In The High Life.” But what brings it home is the chorus:

It was happiness, so clear, happiness
It was happiness, no tears, happiness

It’s a love story. Seen from the wrong end, when it’s over, when you’re reminiscing about the good times. And unlike the relationships in Hollywood, all over TMZ, relationships amongst the hoi polloi are private, intimate, it’s just the two of you, at least they were when this LP came out, before social media.

That’s the essence of the album for me. Of course I liked the opening cut “Valerie,” but it’s the above three tracks that resonated and shockingly still do, my opinion of the album was wrong, it might not have hits, but its got a place in my life, because of the lyrics, the sounds, when it peaks it truly does.

And then comes the title track:

Talking Back to the Night

But this is not the version that resonated with me.

Sometime in the last century, when CD boxed sets were still a thing, I implored Steve Leeds to send me the Winwood one entitled “Chronicles.” It was a four CD set. Actually, maybe it was a promo, I can’t find it online, but I listened to it incessantly, and there was a remix of the aforementioned “Talking Back To The Night,” and I became enraptured with it. It was much more immediate, in your face, punchy, funny how it was the same record but so much more impactful:

Talking Back to the Night

Now it turns out this ’87 remix was on a single album compilation also entitled “Chronicles,” so it was commercially available, but you won’t find it on American streaming services.

High above the heat of a summer New York street
An out of work musician plays a solo saxophone
He’s a preacher and a teacher
And he stands up all alone

It calls up the memory of Sonny Rollins blowing on the Brooklyn Bridge in that ’77 Pioneer ad. But the truth was after achieving fame, Rollins played for years on the Williamsburg Bridge in the early sixties, to the fumes and the wind and himself, getting it right. It wasn’t about fame, but music.

And they look from such a height
That somehow it’s all right
They’re talking back to the night
It’s all that they can do
Talking back to the night
It’s how they make it through

How do you make it through? Especially when no one’s paying attention, when you’re stuck. You can give up, some do, today you can bitch online, but in the old days all you could do was soldier on, playing, practicing.

All these memories came back to me doing research for my Sirius show.

But when I was actually on the air, what followed the “Talking Back To The Night” album was, of course, “Back In The High Life,” starting with “Higher Love.”

It’s completely different from what came before, the ‘pre ’82 Winwood has never really returned. It was four years later, it was a shock to the system. Sure, it was still Winwood. And mostly Will Jennings. But the secret sauce was…

Russ Titelman.

Russ drew players from his little black book, legendary in studios but mostly unknown to listeners, at least their identities. Like Jimmy Bralower and his drum programming. And Eddie Martinez. And Paul Pesco. Never mind horn legends like Randy Brecker and Tom Malone. And never forget the rhythm of Nile Rodgers, long before Chic was chic amongst rockers, long before “Get Lucky”…where are Daft Punk when you need them?

To dedicated Winwood fans like myself, “Back In The High Life” was sacrilegious, overproduced, but oh-so-tasty. It seemed like Winwood had sold out, but you couldn’t stop listening to it. Ultimately you realized it was a breakthrough, a harbinger of sounds to come, a bridge between the rock of the past and the future.

But based on this huge success Winwood made a rich deal with Virgin and never grasped the grail again until 2003’s “About Time,” initially released on an indie label, a pushing of the envelope, quite possibly the best late term album by any classic rock legend.

But when that didn’t resonate with the masses, Winwood signed to Sony and released the jaw-dropping track “Dirty City,” with extended Clapton soloing, but it was too late, this sound was dead in the marketplace. Once again, only the short version is available on U.S. streaming services, the nearly eight minute take is only available on YouTube:

“Dirty City”

If you want to go back to what once was, relive the sixties and seventies, but in a different light, stream “Dirty City” till the end, the playing will blow your mind.