Just like I pictured it!

Does anybody get that reference anymore? “Living For The City” came out in ’73, and my old friend Johanan Vigoda, Stevie’s lawyer who played the judge in the middle of the track, passed a while back. Funny how the most important events of your life are ultimately plowed under by the passage of time.

Now I grew up fifty miles, an hour and fifteen minutes, from the city. And my mother was and still is a culture vulture, she went in to see a play or go to a museum seemingly every week, sometimes more often, and my parents would take us kids, believing culture was the most important thing, that a big house was secondary to eating in good restaurants and going to the symphony and there was unlimited money for movies and concerts, just don’t ask for a car or another big ticket item.

And we’d take school trips too.

But I always feel like an impostor.

Which is weird, since I’m now 66 years old. Scary number, I know. I don’t feel that old, then again when I look in the mirror…and everybody now talks about their health but I’m still worried the cool police will collar me and eject me from Manhattan, no matter how much I try to fit in. And I always wear shmatahs, I refuse to wear a suit, it’s what’s inside that counts, I don’t look quite like a homeless person, but I don’t get any respect.

Then again, when I was growing up New York City was dangerous. Especially Times Square, which was anything but Disneyfied. My favorite depiction is a joke by Elayne Boosler. She’s out on a date in the city and the guy asks her to take a walk by the river, she says he should have told her in advance, then she would have left her vagina at home! Hell, my mother even had a chain ripped right off her neck.

But today the city is safe.

But I still don’t feel I belong.

One of the reasons I live in L.A. is it’s a giant suburb, albeit with much worse traffic. You can have a house and a lawn and a car, it seems familiar, whereas in NYC you’re piled on top of each other. At least you used to be, when artists and poor people could still live in Manhattan.

And, of course, writing about my hometown I pulled up the Springsteen song. The music makes it haunting, there’s no music in writing.

And after listening to his new track, “Hello Sunshine,” and being unimpressed, I pulled up “Human Touch.”

It was so different. Do artists lose it? Oftentimes they do, because they don’t need it, they don’t have anything left to prove, certainly not all night. Now Bruce is tied to the E Street Band and has to do multiple hour shows for the faithful, but it didn’t use to be that way. He used to be an outsider, kind of a greaser, who only came alive on stage, and he was a secret until Jon Landau outed him, his first LP was a disappointment and then the magic flickered on the second and when you saw him live you believed you were experiencing the night of your life. It wasn’t about entertainment, but soul fulfillment.

I was talking to Tom Bailey of the Thompson Twins last week. He said he’d been shopping in the Beverly Center and he had to leave, because of all the bad pop music. He told me music used to be dangerous, we thought it could change the world, now that’s the internet.

And when I was living on the net 24/7 in the nineties because of a free subscription to AOL, not having to pay by the minute, I checked out every nook and cranny, and chatted with women. And when I thought we were simpatico, I always quoted “Human Touch,” and it never worked. But that’s how I felt.

I ain’t lookin’ for praise or pity
I ain’t comin’ ’round searchin’ for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that human touch
And a little of that human touch

It’s hard getting divorced. They were there, in your house, in your bed, and then they’re gone. And you have the rebound relationship that seems destined to be forever until you realize it doesn’t come close to the one with your ex and then you’re…

Alone. Listening to your records. Dreaming of what could be.

And “Human Touch” and “Lucky Town” were rejected by both fans and the marketplace. I understood the second album, I experience that all the time. You break the ice and then you’re all revved up and want to continue. But it’s too much for the audience and you learn this and…

Bruce stretched, played without the E Street Band, but his fans couldn’t accept it. Funny about fans, Todd Rundgren recently said if you do what you want they’re pissed you’re not staying in your lane and if you keep giving them what they want they chide you for not developing. It’s a no-win situation, so you’re best off listening to your inner mounting flame and doing what you want.

And then I pulled up “Tunnel Of Love,” which I wrote about in 1990 when I was hung up on this woman who told me I failed her intimacy test. I didn’t even believe it at the time, but it hurt nonetheless, and she never did find a significant other but then she kept inviting me to things and it was so weird but I ultimately got over it.

But I wanted something darker, and there’s only one place to go, “Darkness At The Edge Of Town.”

And I played my favorite cut, “Candy’s Room,” and the passion wowed me and I suddenly remembered I played it in the dark for my ultimately to be wife on our very first date. I haven’t done that in years. But I used to. That’s how much the music meant to me.

And I realized there was an urge along with a darkness in these classic Boss songs. That’s what made him, broke him through, you could see his pain, and his release when he performed. Used to be everything didn’t work out. Now it still doesn’t, but no one talks about it. Everybody’s a winner.

Thinking about this darkness and edge then I decided to play the Stones, “Beggars Banquet.”

“Street Fighting Man” was a revelation.

Well now, what can a poor boy do
Except to sing for a rock ‘n’ roll band?

There was no place for a street fighting man in London, so Mick and the gang were gonna make their mark via music.

Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
‘Cause I’m in need of some restraint

Mick’s not being ironic in “Sympathy For The Devil.” At the time we hated the cops, and the discarded, the looked-over, were the saints. Everything was up for grabs, you questioned everything, you thought for yourself.

And I love “Parachute Woman”…land on me tonight!

And “No Expectations.”

But what really got me was “Factory Girl.”

Waiting for a girl who’s got curlers in her hair
Waiting for a girl she has no money anywhere
We get buses everywhere
Waiting for a factory girl

You couldn’t cut “Factory Girl” today, the backlash would be massive.

Today you sing about wanting a model. But most people are never gonna date a celebrity. It’s the person without a profile who’s gonna be your savior.

Waiting for a girl and her knees are much too fat
Waiting for a girl who wears scarves instead of hats
Her zipper’s broken down the back
Waiting for a factory girl

Identity politics. It’s for the educated, and the rich, who have the time to ponder all this, everybody else is just trying to get along, in a dead end job where sex and alcohol soothes the pain.

Waiting for a girl and she gets me into fights
Waiting for a girl, we get drunk on Friday night
She’s a sight for sore eyes
Waiting for a factory girl

I remember in law school, we’d get drunk every Friday night, as a release from the pressure and the boredom, and when we had enough we’d fight. But she’s everything to him, and to the rest of us thrilled we’ve got somebody.

Waiting for a girl and she’s got stains all down her dress
Waiting for a girl and my feet are getting wet
She ain’t come out yet
Waiting for a factory girl

The Stones’ comeback was not complete, not cemented until “Sticky Fingers,” with the instant smash, the party starter, “Brown Sugar.”

It had the iconic riff, but you could never understand the words, even if you owned the LP, there was no lyric sheet.

Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields
Sold in the market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver knows he’s doin’ all right
Hear him whip the women just around midnight

You couldn’t tell this tale of Brown Sugar back then, and you still can’t today. This is when the Rolling Stones were still dangerous, when you went to the gig to testify to your outsider status, to meld with the music, the only thing that made life tolerable.

And that’s why the Stones and the rest of the limit pushers can still tour decades later, even if those too scared to go the first time around make up most of the audience.

The Stones are now safe.

And Tom Bailey talked about how even hip-hop has been almost totally co-opted at this point.

But back when…

I can see that you’re fifteen years old
No I don’t want your ID

It’s amazing “Stray Cat Blues” has not been deleted. If Kate Smith has been banned from ballparks, maybe the Stones should be too.

But, like I said, today the Stones are safe.

Back then rock stars charted their own course, would never tie up with the man.

It’s no hanging matter
It’s no capital crime

Only it was!

Musicians were outlaws. There were no billionaires, they were as rich as anybody. And they woke up late and destroyed hotel rooms and paid for the damages and kept on going.

No wonder we were drawn to these acts and their songs. They were a way out of conformity.

And when you listen to these tracks, they still are.

New York City Playlist

The bowling alley is a Shell station. Friendly’s is Jersey Mike’s. Korner Market, which sponsored my Little League team, is a flower shop.

But what’s worse is I didn’t recognize my own house, the split-level I grew up in.

I was cruising down the street, I made the turn where my mother’s Falcon did a 360 on the ice, and I couldn’t believe Coral Drive, the cross-street, came up so soon. Where was 153 Farist Road?

That’s when I realized they’d cut down the trees. So there was no line between my old house and the neighbor’s.

And the house seemed so small. Especially in these days of 3000+ square feet. There were three bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. My sisters shared one. I had one. And my parents were in between. And once my sister Jill wouldn’t come out of the bathroom and I had to go so I ended up kicking the door and putting a hole in it, which remained, for years.

This was the bathroom I used to soak in on Saturday nights, when I was home alone. I’d pull the speaker off my Columbia all-in-one stereo and put it by the bathroom door and listen to WOR-FM, that was the original free-format station in New York.

And they enclosed the porch. There were curtains. It was almost like I never lived there.

And the hills were small. Everything’s big when you’re a kid. I drove past Bobby Hickey’s house where we used to ski in the backyard, the vertical drop was maybe ten feet, but that didn’t stop us. It looked almost unskiable today.

And at first the Little League played down the street, very convenient, and then they switched fields to Melville Drive at the edge of the projects. I used to ride my Raleigh there, I was surprised how far away it was. And when we won, Mr. Russo took us to Dairy Queen. But that was on Black Rock Turnpike, on the other side of my house. So, after the victory I’d immediately hop on my bike and if I was lucky I’d get there just when they were ordering. We won a lot. One year the Town Championship, the year after runner-up.

And when I lived there everybody was a first owner. They built the houses in the fifties and sixties and young families moved in. Now most of those parents are dead. And new families are in residence. But the old edifices remain. Some worse for wear, many with additions, so it’s the same yet different.

The high school changed its name, and its mascot. Now they’re the Mustangs instead of the Crimson Eagles, it’s like our entire history has been wiped out.

But I did not look back on those school days with fondness. The bullying, the tests, I’m amazed we made it through.

And those schools were built the same time as the houses. They all consist of this red brick.

But down by the shore they’ve torn down the old houses and built mini-mansions. Because now people have more money. Used to be we were all middle class, rich meant you drove a Cadillac. Now there are the haves and the have-nots.

And there’s a pizza place on seemingly every corner. I know, I know, there’s pizza all over the world, but it’s best in Italian communities, like Bridgeport.

And we went to the oyster bar and they had nine varieties. Out west you’re lucky if they have two. The best was the Large Pemaquid from Maine. It was gigantic, and tasty.

And the cars had rot. We used to call it cancer. The salt eats at the bodies. Not every automobile, but more than a few. No one’s driving fifteen year old cars in Connecticut.

And there’s no traffic, on even the busiest streets. You can cruise everywhere, at least on the weekends.

And it’s so green! I always heard this from visitors, but now being ensconced on the west coast I was stunned how the average front yard looked like a golf course.

But most of the trees hadn’t changed yet, they hadn’t flowered. It was in the fifties. I’m not gonna use my short sleeve shirts.

And it was gray and rained. A revelation if you live in L.A. The heaviest downpour doesn’t last in Los Angeles. It’s raining cats and dogs, and then a couple of hours later, it’s bright and sunny, just when you got into a good book, or a Netflix series. You can no longer justify being inside and lazy.

And they’re serious on the east coast, where you went to school is important. In the west you make it up as you go, you can reinvent yourself. Prior to Facebook you could move away and never hear from those you grew up with ever.

And my mother is in her nineties. And most of her friends have died. And when she goes…

I’ll probably never go back to my hometown.

You’ve got to build it from scratch.

And you have to know each and every member and how to reach them.

Remember the MTV era? Instant heroes who soon became zeros. The faster you make it, the faster you lose it.

In other words, if you’re depending on the label, the corporation, to bring you to the top, you’re in trouble.

I know this is antithetical to everything you’ve been taught, but the mentality of the music business exists in the twentieth century, while we’re living in the twenty first. Grass roots. Credibility. Honesty. All these things are going to grow your career in today’s era, and it’s gonna happen slowly. You might never break through to the big time, but your fans will support you. Fans will house you, promote you and give you all their money. All they want in return is respect and access. It’s the best deal in history. One e-mail, one tweet can motivate them into taking action.

No candidate is better known than Joe Biden. But he’s living in the last century, he had no mailing list, except for the one from when he ran for Vice President, and they say those mailing lists are only good for two years.

Biden said he raised $6.3 million in his first day of fundraising, more than Bernie’s first day, which netted the Vermont Senator $5.9 million.

But the devil is in the details. Biden raised the money from 97,000 donors. Bernie raised his cash from 225,000. It’s about fans, not grosses. Which is why you’ll see big bands limiting ticket prices, selling tickets to fan clubs, doing everything to maintain their base which will sustain them through the thin times.

Furthermore, Biden got $700,000 from fat cats, at a fundraiser. And in today’s era, all the little people hate the big people.

It’s happening in music too, it’s just that the big people don’t want you to know it. The imprimatur of the label, the push at radio, these are things the true fans have no sympathy for. The labels and radio are in the hits business, the fans are in the career business, and there’s so much more money in that.

The press is behind Biden. As are the corporate donors, lobbyists and the Party. You’d think he’s a winner until you look at the actual voters. This is how the Republican fat cats lost control of their party, when Trump swooped in and appealed to the little people who felt ignored.

A big publicity campaign won’t tell you who you’re reaching, won’t give you hardly any information at all. And today it’s all about the data. Spotify will tell you where you’re hot and where you’re not. But even more important is the rank and file, the fans. They want to hear from you, but with so many media messages your effort gets lost and stops before it reaches them. No one catches everything, it’s impossible. Even the biggest of publicity campaigns don’t reach everyone.

It’s all about targets. Efficiency.

And there’s a nerd in your fanbase who will coordinate all this. Someone savvy, who’ll do it for the love.

You’ve got to be organized, you’re managing yourself. If you’re handing off responsibility to someone else, you’re missing the point. Fans want you, and they can tell when it’s fake.

Of course it’s a lot of hard work, but the dividends are paid in the future.

Bernie could only raise this much money because he ran in 2016, he had an infrastructure.

The era of the vapid instant superstar is done. It only resonates with the media and the brain dead. True fans want to feel like they belong, they want to channel their energy, they want to know they’re important.

So we’ve got two music businesses today. Actually three.

One is the oldsters who made it before the internet coasting on their hits, never to have another one.

Number two is the Spotify wonders. Propped up by the machine. Hyped. Sure, some of them will sustain, but most of them will not. Come on, you know that fans want to own the act themselves before everybody else does, they want to say they were there first, they don’t want to be a number, they want to be known. They want to say they saw you in a club. That they bought a t-shirt from you at the merch table. And when you break through, they’ll still support you.

Number three is the vast majority. Those who the machine doesn’t want. Those who do not rap or sing pop to an 808 beat. Their time is coming. Stop bitching about recording revenue, everybody can hear your music essentially for free, that’s a good thing! You used to have to depend on radio and sales for traction, now your music is just a click away and there are so many ways to monetize, be encouraged, not discouraged.

The media can’t cope with numerous genres. It’s all about winners. But in the internet era there are tons of winners. And the more different you are from the hitmakers, the greater the chances that you’ll succeed.

But it’s a slower process than before.

And you have to do most of the work yourself.

But your fanbase will support you through thick and thin. And no one is as rabid as a fan in spreading the word, they’ll drag friends to a gig, which is why you’ve got to be great every night even if there are only ten people in the audience, because one person today has more power than any newspaper if they believe.

The world has become inverted. We’re going from the macro to the micro. And the truth is there’s plenty of money in the micro. And if you hang in there long enough, you can go macro. The machine is throwing things against the wall. You’re making music containing your heart and soul, humanity emanates from the grooves, it’s not for the good times, but for all time.

The old game is dying.

You’re in charge of the new game. But you must use the new game paradigm. And that starts with ones and twos, fans. Know who they are and activate them, it’s the only way to win in the music game today.

If you want to sell perfume and have a clothing line that’s a different path.

But if you’re a musician, your time has come.

There are no do-overs, just like there’s no crying in baseball. You start at GO! and you never pass by again, if only you knew then what you know now.

You were much better looking than you ever thought you were. You look back at the pictures and marvel how skinny you were, your flaxen hair, you wonder why that person was so insecure.

You wanted to be popular but now you realize that’s not your personality. You don’t want to be phony and you’re not a member of the group and you don’t like to diss people, all you are is you. You had one close friend, maybe two, it’s been this way your entire life, own it, it’s all right.

Where you were born and who were your parents counts. Opportunity depends on it. But the truth is there are many pathways for the disadvantaged, assuming you do the work. The best colleges and universities are need-blind, meaning if you get in and have no money they’ll pay, but the truth is the entitled don’t want you to know this. All that time you wasted watching TV and posting on social media could have been used to get ahead.

Everybody’s got an interest, it’s up to you to follow it. Playing it safe means you’re never gonna get where you want to go. Be a dentist and you can buy tickets in the front row, but you can never get backstage, which is fine unless you want to be backstage, part of the action, because you live and breathe it as opposed to wanting to boast about it.

Not that where you went to college matters. It all comes down to you baby.

And they don’t prepare you for what comes next. You’re supposed to find a job, doing what you have no idea, you’ve just got to pay your bills, and maybe your student loans. And you can waste five or six years figuring it all out to find that you’re on the wrong path, and then it’s too late to change.

Kinda like having a family and children and a house and a car. No one told you to do all that, if you want to pursue your dream you’ve got to sacrifice. No one wants to sacrifice in America anymore, that’s someone else’s job.

And it’s true half of getting ahead is showing up. You’d be surprised who can’t. And if you’re not a kiss-ass, work alone, because organizations are all about kissing up. People like to be flattered, and it’s a veritable network of relationships and just doing your work is not enough. If you’re not looking for a new job the minute you start the old one the joke is on you.

As it is if you don’t go to college. It’s an entry fee. People just want to know you have a diploma. Find a school, figure it out.

And if you want to take the path untrodden…be prepared for hardship. If you’re lucky you’ve got parents who will support you, otherwise you’re gonna realize it takes money to survive. The corporations don’t only make billionaires, they force people to be poor. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer and the poor can’t pay their bills and since they have no money, politicians won’t listen to them. It all comes down to money, never forget that, it’s the great motivator, what gets people interested.

And the truth is your career won’t keep you warm at night, which is why you should have a spouse and children but they push you onto the hamster wheel. I know, it’s a conundrum. That’s the essence of life, everybody keeps telling you how to do it, you feel inadequate, and it’s not until you’re old and tired that you realize no one had a better idea than you, they were just faking it, or bullying, you could have competed, or maybe you are now.

You can’t do anything you want, you can’t be a basketball player if you’re 5’5″, but people will point out players who were but ignore them, trivia knowledge gets you nowhere unless you’re on “Jeopardy.” The record company doesn’t want an employee who knows music history, they want one who can get their record on the chart!

But you can find your niche. But know it’s a jungle out there. You’re on your own.

And don’t marry someone if you think you’re gonna get divorced, the aftermath is too painful. Then again, the most perfect marriages break up, because you don’t know what happens behind closed doors, and those who don’t argue…someone is holding their tongue.

And it becomes overwhelming. And you’re too young and then you’re too old. You get carded and then you don’t. The older generation runs the world and then the younger one, it never seems to be your time.

But you don’t know it then. You’re either a slave to the grind or barking up trees with no limbs. It comes down to people. You’ve got to know the right ones. Sometimes it’s only one. Spend time with losers and you too are a loser. Not that everyone poor or going nowhere is a loser, being a good person counts for a lot, but a lot of the losers are delusional or sour grapes, they’re gonna make it, they would have made it, except for…

But we’re all animals at the core, and we’re here to reproduce, and your children will make your life worthwhile, assuming you pay attention to them.

And if you don’t have children your career has got to work.

And you think your life is in front of you before it’s suddenly behind. Your parents die and then friends die and then you realize it’s you next. All the things you were gonna do, the places you were gonna go, it’s too late, time’s up.

But you don’t know all this until it’s too late. You’re drifting, and then you’re hanging on for dear life.

Some people will tell you the truth, but you don’t listen, you only realize their wisdom in hindsight.

Like your health is everything… Meaningless when you’re in your twenties, everything when you’re over fifty.

And speaking of meaningless, life is, achievement is, it’s all a game that means nothing. You can keep playing it, believing if you win you’ll be respected and feel better, or you can hew to your own desires, assuming you haven’t been so brainwashed you don’t know what they are anymore. People tell you what to do all day long, it really comes down to what you want to do.

And nothing happens if you don’t take action. You’ve got to engage.

And the path to where you wanna go is fraught with danger.

Then again, Julia Child didn’t make it until she was in her sixties, or was it seventies, or fifties…it doesn’t matter, because she’s not you.

And speaking of not being you, stop reading the business books, the self-help books, because you’re not Ray Dalio and you’re not a standard patient.

You’re just you. And they don’t want you to be you. So you’re fighting your whole life to be you.

And then you realize at the end it’s all about moments, laughs, good times, doing things for others…nothing makes you feel better.

But you don’t see this in the media. And in the internet age you can see everybody striving and you believe you’re doing it wrong, you’re not.

Everybody’s got their own special gift, respect others and find yours.

But time keeps rolling. Try to keep your eyes open. Try to capture your own personal zeitgeist. You only go around once, reincarnation, all that hogwash was created by people who were scared, who couldn’t believe this was it, all of it. But once you embrace that it’s one and done you’ve got a new perspective. Funny how life is. There are rewards in being a member of the group, but also restrictions.

Life is a riddle, you’ve got to figure it out.

Accept you’re gonna do so too late.

But that does not mean you should not keep keepin’ on, trying to solve your own personal puzzle.