Tune in today, Tuesday April 30th, to Volume 106, 7 PM East, 4 PM West.

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The major labels will lose power. Their tight grasp on the industry was based on control of distribution and media. They’ve lost control of distribution, Spotify is more powerful than every label. No label can afford to pull its catalog from Spotify, it’s their number one payer. So the leverage of their catalogs is gone. And by signing so few acts in so few genres, they’re ceding territory to independents. And their distribution deals for indies are too expensive for what they’re getting, Glassnote was at Sony then Universal and is now with AWAL. The only thing the majors have to their advantage is cash, they pay it. But so do the promoters, with much less heinous terms. So, if you can make it on the road you don’t need a major label and if you can make it on the road chances are you’re not making the kind of music the major label is interested in anyway, ergo the ultimate decline. Furthermore, radio and TV continue to decline in power, it’s all about the internet, where the majors are not in charge.

Ticketing will remain opaque, for years, because this is what the industry wants. Ticketmaster takes the heat for acts, and promoters want to lay off some of the risk with scalpers, and people are not down with facial recognition and are concerned with transferability. So change is not imminent.

Hip-hop will lose its streaming hegemony. It never had it at Amazon anyway. Streaming services will be forced to reflect broader interests.

Scale will not be the sole factor considered in business investment. When few can become billionaires, people will settle for influence over cash, human power will start to make a comeback. Algorithms can’t solve everything, sometimes you need the human touch.

Electric cars will gain traction overnight. If you’re buying an expensive gasoline car today, don’t, lease, the value is about to drop through the floor.

The goal is to be ahead of the public. People say they don’t want driverless cars, but the truth is they’ll embrace them, just like Spotify and Netflix streaming.

New music will play no part in the 2020 election, because no new tracks can gain ubiquitous traction. Expect classic tunes to be used.

Continued consolidation in the concert promotion business. Experience counts, it’s no longer the 1960s. And deep pockets are the key to success at festivals, you’ve got to lose for years before you reap rewards. Newbies will continue to get trounced, or will sell out.

Purveyors will realize it’s not about subscribers, but streams. Irrelevant of Apple’s number of paying customers in America, more tracks are streamed on Spotify, it’s a more active platform.

Streams first, revenue second. It’s just like tech, you build it, get mindshare and then think about how to monetize. And with mindshare/fans, you can always monetize.

Melody will come back, it’s just a matter of when.

Everybody won’t buy a new smartphone until the 5G rollout, when there is good service everywhere. Upgrades were for LTE and larger phones. Now there’s no incentive to trade up, it’s too expensive, but soon you’ll want to for 5G.

Having said that, hardware is passe, all the development is in software. Expect no new tech gadgets. The smartphone is a Swiss Army knife. You add to it, you don’t create standalone items.

The public is willing to donate to your political campaign, just as long as you don’t take public money. Politicians are the new rock stars. Was techies, but now it’s those running for office. People believe in them. Not all of them, but many of them. This is confounding, because legendarily politicians are whored-out people, under the thumb of corporations and lobbyists. But people want somebody to believe in. The era of paying fealty to products is declining. Your identity is based on who you believe in. Unfortunately, only pre-teens and nincompoops can believe in most of the new musical acts. What you stand for is more important than short term gains.

The baby boomers think they rule but they don’t. And only when they are in the rearview mirror will we see revolution in the creative industries. Millennials and Gen Z are not anti-money, but they are about truth and honesty, unlike their parents who said money was the root of all evil and then sold themselves out to the man for cash.

If you want to gain traction in the media, start a fight with somebody.

The individual will gain more power. The groupthink of the millennials is coming to an end. People will be willing to let their freak flags fly, stand out, be ostracized. There’s a new willingness to take social risk. Standing up and making change is the story of the youth today, and will only grow. This focus on profits and wealth will fade in importance, because most millennials and Gen-Z’ers have been locked out of the party.

Everyone is gonna take a side, to be noncommittal is to be judged negatively and ignored.

Fads will continue, just don’t mistake them for serious trends/established companies.

Good enough is fine for most people, just right/perfect appeals to a small sliver of the public, which is willing to pay for it.

Despite economic inequality, all of America is going upscale. Everybody wants name brand products and artisanal food and is willing to pay for them. It’s a small luxury compared to the big ticket items they can’t afford. Sure, some people are destitute, and probably voting against their own interests, i.e. government programs/welfare, but from the lower middle class on up there is a dissatisfaction with the life of yore. Food can’t be bland and there must be choice. The cheaper and more evanescent the product, the more people want to consume it and argue about it.

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.