Where Have All The Good Times Gone – Spotify

I heard Bowie’s version on Deep Tracks the other night.

I was driving in the dark, on the twisty roads in the hills, and it sounded so good.

It never sounded that good before.

I bought “PinUps” and was sorely disappointed. You see I’d gotten in early, for an American, I’d been in London and Ziggy was blowing up and I bought the album and saw the band at Boston’s Music Hall before most people had any idea who he was, in less than two years he played Madison Square Garden, I was there too, but this was when it was a badge of honor to be in the know and you followed bands on the way up, Bowie ascended faster than most.

And to be honest, I found “Aladdin Sane” a disappointment. But can I say my favorite cut on that LP is the closer, the slowly-building anthem “Lady Grinning Soul”? No one ever talks about that one.

And “Diamond Dogs” was a gutter move, playing to the masses, an almost lowest common denominator endeavor that made you wonder if Bowie would ever return to form.

And then came “Young Americans.” A totally different sound, a surprise. And I still cannot listen to its biggest hit “Fame,” although I will tolerate the title track. The groove of “Fascination” hooks me, but my absolute favorite is the second side opener “Somebody Up There Likes Me. It’s the longest cut on the album, at 6:36, it starts off with a flourish, announcing the arrival of the king, and then Bowie starts to croon with emphasis, a unique combo of Englishman and James Brown, and as the track unfolds you cannot help but get on board, as Bowie gets ever more intense, throws in everything but the kitchen sink, and then you’re smiling and thrusting your arm in the air and…

That is not “PinUps.”

The problem with “PinUps” is the renditions are faithful. I thought he’d redo the originals, make them his own, but they were mostly pale imitations of his influences, sans magic. This was no Joe Cocker or Bryan Ferry reinventing what once was, this was a throwaway, which I’d paid good money for, making it so I couldn’t buy something else, and although I’m a completist, or was, before the internet, needing to own everything, I rarely spun it and was angry about it until the other night.

But the truth is even the Van Halen cover is better, that’s become the standard these days. Also kind of a cheap shot, the Dave influence, but the originals made up for the obvious remakes, then again, the band started with “You Really Got Me,” and both were Kinks songs.

The Kinks…

They were on Warner Brothers before the label became iconic. They had giant hit singles on the radio when few people bought albums, as a matter of fact, all I had was the “Greatest Hits.” Then they stopped touring and really didn’t come back until 1970 and “Arthur” and “Victoria.” And ultimately Clive Davis made them a hit act, touring arenas, on Arista, but that was something different, that was after all the “plays,” that was after Ray Davies went on his personal hejira that most people were not paying attention to, but if you were…

Now my favorite sync on “The Sopranos,” other than Alabama 3’s opening cut, was the Kinks’ “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.” This was not the original, but a live rendition, from the U.S. version of the album “To The Bone,” which has disappeared into the ether, it’s on no streaming service, meaning you can’t hear the incredible title track either. Tony wasn’t like everybody else, that used to be the goal, individuality, and Ray Davies was and is an individual.

Now the original “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” is the b-side of the single of “Sunny Afternoon,” which does not get the props it deserves, it’s as modern today as it was back then.

And “Where Have All The Good Times Gone” was the b-side of “Till The End of the Day.”

Well, lived my life and never stopped to worry about a thing
Opened up and shouted out and never tried to sing
Wondering if I’d done wrong
Will this depression last for long

The same depression that seems to have driven Avicii to suicide.

You don’t hear about depression in today’s hit music, everybody’s a winner, how are you supposed to identify?

YOU CAN’T!

That’s why music has lost its hold on popular culture, why it is not the driver, you resonate more with the people on TV.

Well, once we had an easy ride and always felt the same
Time was on my side and I had everything to gain
Let it be like yesterday
Please let me have happy days

LET IT BE LIKE YESTERDAY! How many times have you wished that???

Ma and Pa look back at all the things they used to do
Didn’t have no money and they always told the truth
Daddy didn’t have no toys
But mummy didn’t need no boys

When you’ve got nothing, oftentimes you’ve got everything. Not worried about possessions, keeping up with the joneses, you’re living on your wits, truly honestly, the more comfort you get, the more you get distracted.

Well, yesterday was such an easy game for you to play
But let’s face it things are so much easier today
Guess you need some bringing down
To get your feet back on the ground

Kinda like “Positively 4th Street.” This is a diss track. But not for the person’s personality so much as their airs, their veneer needs to be punctured so they’ll float back to earth. John Lennon did this, most famously re Paul McCartney. The English didn’t want anybody to be too big for their britches, especially if they came from nothing, like most musicians.

And now it’s no different from how it once was, in that everybody keeps wondering where have all the good times gone, people think technology killed society and they just want to go back to what once was, only in this case no one in their twenties is offering this insight, this wisdom.

Won’t you tell me, where have all the good times gone, when pop musicians had a brain and offered insight far beyond their years.

“I’m Not Like Everybody Else” (Sopranos version)

Easy To Slip – Spotify

Easy To Slip – YouTube

Well I don’t want to drift forever
In the shadow of you leaving me

But I did, for a decade.

I was overstimulated. Interacting at the Forum, talking on the phone, out to a dinner party, and after watching an episode of “The Americans” I planned on reading my book, which I’m wholly into, “The Perfect Nanny,” by Leila Slimani, translated imperfectly from the French yet the feeling sustains, but it just didn’t resonate, the only thing that did was music, so I lay on the couch in the dark punching through the HQ songs on Deezer and everything was resonating, which was quite a surprise, because get wound tight enough and nothing does.

And I listened to an old Tears For Fears record, “Elemental,” which sounded surprisingly good, never underestimate the power of a guitar and a tune, and then I went with the Flow and heard “Happy Together” and read about all the covers and synchs and then for some reason I needed to hear Little Feat.

Now oftentimes when I get this urge, I pull up Bonnie Raitt’s “I Feel The Same,” with Lowell’s magic infecting the track, or maybe even James Taylor’s “Angry Blues” where Lowell is subtle, but provides the essence, but tonight I wanted the real thing, so I went to the artistic breakthrough, “Dixie Chicken” and…

It sounded so good.

And I started to wonder if this sound would come back, if enough time had passed for there to be a rock renaissance, for a younger generation to get hooked on the lost sound and mutate it into something new like the English rockers did with the bluesmeisters, after all, this is what Greta Van Fleet is doing with Led Zeppelin.

And I’m thinking about Lowell George, how he died at 34 and missed so much, the fat man in the bathtub walked the edge and then fell off, it takes a lot to kill a man, but mix a cocktail of the wrong stuff and you can die overnight, makes me wonder, do you know, like Steve Jobs saying “Oh wow, oh wow!” before passing or do you go to bed thinking about what you have to do tomorrow and then…PPFFFT, it’s all over?

I don’t want to go that way, I want to see the end, like in a movie, the climax, maybe I’ll be disappointed, maybe I’ll be fulfilled, but I want to know.

And the problem with listening to music in the dark long after dark is you can’t turn it off, you’re alone, but you’re in a cocoon, just you and the music, this how I got through after the breakup with F., after law school, with a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream I’d lie on the floor all night with the headphones on blasting, and then maybe inspired start making phone calls to the east coast when the sun came up, freaking the recipients out.

But by time K. disappeared, I was no longer drinking. But I still listened, I’ve always been listening, it’s the only thing that roots me, on one hand I’m a loner, but with the right tunes in my ear I’m no longer flying solo.

All the people that you can’t recall
Do they really exist at all

Like all those faces from the two years in Utah. I didn’t fit in, other than my love for skiing. I’d already graduated from college, I hadn’t dropped out, and when I flew through the bumps I sang a song, not to myself, but everybody, and friends picked it up and started singing it too, even though they’d never heard it, it’s from Little Feat’s second album, “Sailin’ Shoes,” the title cut of which Robert Palmer covered so well, the song is entitled “Easy To Slip.”

It’s so easy to slip
It’s so easy to fall

Like Lowell, I was riding the edge, the bumps had changed, you used to be able to ski through the troughs, now you bounced off the tops, truly, it was a skill to be achieved, to execute, miss a turn and it might not be death, but a serious fall, maybe injury.

And let your memory drift
And do nothin’ at all

Maybe it’s not only me, maybe it’s my entire generation, the baby boomers. We were on a fast track to nowhere, it was all about experience, not all of which took place off the couch, you’d fire up the stereo, maybe fire up a doobie, let the sound wash over you and think, HOW DID I GET HERE?

That’s the riddle of my life. This is not what I contemplated, this is not what my parents foresaw, and I’m not exactly complaining, just wondering, what was it that put me on this course?

Maybe growing up in the suburbs in a Jewish family, being a middle child, going to Middlebury because I loved to ski, getting into my first long term relationship with the help of my shrink, then meeting the person who was convinced I was the one.

And then was convinced I wasn’t.

That’s how it happened, just not that smoothly, took years. But there was a very quick denouement, I was totally surprised.

So I light another cigarette
And try to remember to forget

But you can’t. The memory fades, but still lingers.

And it was exacerbated by her desire not to get a divorce, which crossed with my perseverance was a bad combination, I only give up when the game is over, when my marbles are taken away, they talk about learning from failure, pivoting, I just stay the course until the path ends, when there’s no more trail, and then I’m broke down and busted on the side of the road wondering where to go and what to do next.

It’s so easy to slip
It’s so easy to fall

Your parents are right. One bad move, one bad choice, and you can mess up your whole life.

Then again, at this late date, I’m convinced everybody loses ten years along the way, when things don’t work out, and if you haven’t had them yet, they’re coming.

And the funny thing about “Easy To Slip” is it’s an upbeat song, in sound anyway. Maybe that’s the essence of being a musician, of being a bluesman, despite what surrounds you you find joy in playing, most of the musicians of this era picked up their instruments BEFORE the Beatles, it wasn’t about the riches and the fame so much as the music.

Which ruled the world.

And everybody wants to rule the world.

Until you realize that’s a fool’s errand. Until you realize we’re all just grist for the mill, passing through.

That’s one of the bad things about aging, the memories, they haunt you, they prevent you from marching forward.

Then again, they provide a tapestry of feeling, baked into this song are all the times I sang it hiking the waterfall by Route 100, banging the bumps on Wilbere Ridge…

Well my whole world seems so cold today
All the magic’s gone away
And our time together melts away
Like the sad melody I play

And the irony is today was so warm, just like the melody in “Easy To Slip” is not sad, it’s a conundrum, but nonetheless I got overwhelmed and the only thing that could root me was a record, just when I doubted the power of one. And I slipped down into the rabbit hole of memory and my life was there in relief, the good and the bad, and her.

I’m still trying to figure out exactly what “Easy To Slip” is about, what it means, what inspired Lowell George to write it.

And I’m still trying to figure out my life.

Science fiction or reality?

After today’s presentation I’m leaning towards the latter.

To tell you the truth, I’m so high on carbs, having eaten so many slices of pizza, I’m grinning from ear to ear. For connoisseurs, you know that it’s hard to get a good slice of pizza in L.A., just like it’s hard to get great Mexican food on the east coast. Oh, they serve it, it’s just a little off. Kinda like pastrami, it’s all good on the east coast…on the west, pick and choose your outlets. But these slices were from Jon & Vinny’s on Fairfax and they were thin and burnt, just like in New Haven, and even though I’m trying to stay away from bread, I found it irresistible. A good cherry on top of the sundae of the presentation.

So a who’s who of the entertainment business showed up at the Forum this morning for a detailed presentation on the Sphere. You know, that globe you’ve seen in trade shots, that futuristic thing you tell yourself will never happen?

Well now I think it’s real.

And the truth is, despite all the blowback about the web, I interact with more people online than I ever did in the old days, but there’s a certain something about being face to face. Kinda like a camp reunion. You see everybody you know you haven’t seen for a while and it’s fun. That’s why you want to live in L.A., that’s why you want to live in the big city, you can telecommute from anywhere, but you can’t get up close and personal with the people. The hang was fun. And productive.

So, the experience has been the same from time immemorial. The only thing we’ve added is amplification and a roof. Act gets on stage and the audience listens. Where you’re sitting is key. Too close and the mix is bad, too far and the sound is muddled.

But not in the Sphere.

They had a demonstration. Of the beaming technology. Every seat gets personalized sound. Dolan said in-ear monitors, wedges, were not needed at all for performers in the Sphere.

Anyway…

They bounce the sound to the individual, at the same volume no matter where you sit. And it sounds too good to be true, and then…

We stood in the back, we heard the guitars. We moved up, heard these same guitars at the same volume. Stood on the right, heard the saxes, stood on the left, only four feet away, heard the guitars only. Sounds futuristic, but it’s here NOW!

I know, I know, you don’t believe me, and I didn’t believe it either, until I heard it.

So the Sphere is a giant dome, the first to break ground in Vegas in the fall, up and running fourteen months later. The second up in London a year after that.

But you’ve got to understand, these are not just concert venues.

They are EXPERIENCES!

For far too long, Silicon Valley has wagged the entertainment industry tail. We’ve followed, not led. None of our own has broken barriers.

Until now.

Maybe it takes a billionaire, which Jim Dolan is. He says he had the vision almost two decades ago, but now the technology is here.

Not only the sound, but the screen.

It covers the whole dome in pixel density far outstripping HD.

And there’s smellavision and they can even spray water on you and you start to think about failed technologies like 3-D and the earth-shaking system introduced for “Earthquake,” but then you realize, if only the sound works, it’s worth it.

So this is a breakthrough. Aligned with the times.

Just going and hearing is no longer enough. People want experiences. Something they can talk about as opposed to something they can own. And what the Sphere is is a platform, for creativity. Imagine IMAX on steroids. MSG has a fund for creativity, pitch ’em and they might say yes. What can you do with the technology?

And it’s not only music, but trade shows and new immersive experiences we depend on Hollywood to create.

I’d love to be a skeptic, but I’m convinced.

Creatively.

As for financially?

He who takes the big risks gets the big rewards.

Or the big losses.

But this is a giant leap forward, and it’s EXCITING!

With The Beatles

We had “Meet The Beatles!” before the band appeared on “Ed Sullivan.” The single of “She Loves You” on Swan backed with “I’ll Get You” too, actually we had that first.

They called it “Beatlemania,” and it truly was. “I Want To Hold Your Hand” exploded out of transistors right after the New Year and the band was on everybody’s lips, back when we were young and impressionable, when distractions were limited and you could easily gain everybody’s attention, assuming you had the platform and the goods.

I know some boomers were old enough to buy the album themselves, but the bulge was comprised of a younger set, without driver’s licenses, they bugged their parents to purchase “Meet The Beatles!” with the desire only a child can exhibit, mixed with nagging, and sure, parents wanted to shut their kids up, but even more they wanted to deliver for them, in an era where an LP cost between two and three dollars. We’d heard about a “jet set,” but we not only weren’t members, we didn’t know anybody who was, we were not famous, that was a tiny group of people, and as far as being rich…those were people who drove Cadillacs, we couldn’t contemplate a lifestyle beyond that. Which is to say satiating your children’s desires used to be so much cheaper, so much easier to achieve.

And when “Meet The Beatles!” came home you might have played it on the console stereo in the living room, but if you were lucky you had a record player in your bedroom, a box containing a speaker with a heavy tonearm that turned the vinyl gray with repeated plays, and which oftentimes sported a taped-on nickel or dime to ensure there was no skipping.

And we played the album, over and over again, for two reasons, we had so little product and we had so few distractions. We’d sit there in front of the box, as close as possible, and soak up the sound, believing the more we knew it the closer we were to the source, the magical Beatles.

And unlike its English iteration, the album contained “I Want To Hold Your Hand,” opening side one. And no listening of the track today can simulate what once was, a fresh sound that exploded out of the speaker that sounded like nothing else.

And at this point, you hear “I Saw Her Standing There” much more, with its reference to the object of desire being seventeen. Truth was we thought that was too young back then, she would still be in HIGH SCHOOL! Then again, didn’t people drop out earlier in the U.K? It was all exotic, England went from the backward Mother Country to the primary influence overnight. We soaked up the clothing and the accent, anything to get closer.

And at this late date, most of the focus is on the Beatles’ later work, from “Rubber Soul” on, when they were experimenting, testing limits, when the lyrics and the execution were more mature.

And for a few decades there, we had little access to “Meet The Beatles!” You had to own the LP and a record player and the desire to spin it, hearing the clicks and pops evidencing history. And you didn’t.

And then there was the seventies renaissance with “Breakfast With The Beatles” and in the eighties the albums came out on CD and suddenly, the Beatles were a staple of our society, they sustained.

But…

You rarely heard those initial two minute tracks.

“Little Child” was even 1:46, it didn’t seem like someone implored the band to condense their message, it’s just that they spun off diamonds, they were thrilled they had anybody’s attention, they didn’t want to overdo it, they wanted to nail it and bask in the accolades.

And everybody had their favorite Beatle. Paul, the cute one. Or John, the brainy one. Or Ringo, the playful one.

Or George, the sensitive one. He stood on stage picking the notes, he was essential but gained less attention, less focus, and then there was “Don’t Bother Me.”

It was raw and dark in a way that nothing else on the LP was.

Sure, “This Boy” was sensitive and quiet, but it sounded like something that ultimately seemed to come from the “American Graffiti” soundtrack, it looked back, not forward.

And “Till There Was You” was literally a cover, which we all knew, because prior to the Beatles the dominant, universal sound was Broadway Original Cast albums.

But “Don’t Bother Me”…

In retrospect, the vocal was different, but at this time, except for Ringo, we thought they all sounded the same. But the track and the intonation…they stood out.

Since she’s gone
I want no one
To talk to me

This we understood. Our ultimate goal was to be popular, and most people were not, so they sat in their bedrooms contemplating their loner status. They didn’t want to confide in their parents, they were not best friends, they had all these feelings they couldn’t express, but they were in the grooves of this record.

So go away and leave me alone

How many times did you say this to the ‘rents? We just wanted to be left alone, to wallow in our thoughts, we felt if we stewed in our own juices long enough we’d cook ourselves into a better mood. Then again, we had to get up the next day and go to school, there was a reset button, a veritable “Groundhog Day,” a chance to get it right the next time.

I can’t believe
That she would leave
Me on my own

Indignation, it’s the human condition when you’re a teenager, feeling your way. You’re not resigned to your spouse, to your job, you’re jumping through hoops and when one is taken away, you feel it. It’s personal. Despite people saying it’s them and not you, deep inside you doubt that, you KNOW it’s you.

I know I’ll never be the same
If I don’t get her back again
Because I know she’ll always be
The only girl for me

You’ve got to be damn old until you realize life is a process, with ups and downs, and that you can survive almost anything and end up better off. It’s all personal before this. And loss seems permanent. You’re convinced you’ll never find anyone as good, and since this was probably the first time you were in love, or got to second base, or third, or even home, it was all the more visceral, the comedown back to where you once were was EXCRUCIATING!

But till she’s here
Please don’t come near
Just stay away

It’s like you’re truly wounded, if someone touches you, talks to you, it’s gonna hurt too much to endure. You’re willing your way back to the past, when the only way to go is forward.

So the dark, brooding Beatle wrote a dark brooding song. He was more sensitive, he wasn’t always winning. That smile gave Paul everything he wanted. John was too smart for the room, he was ready with a quip, it paid dividends. Ringo was the butt of the joke and the life of the party and…

George was left out.

That’s what it felt like.

And the winter seems endless at that age. Now life passes too quickly. Then it couldn’t pass fast enough. You sat in your bedroom after school, on weekends, and played your records again and again and again, you knew them by heart, they were best friends. That’s why girls screamed at gigs, they were so invested in the act, they couldn’t believe the band was there in the flesh, so close, yet so far, to scream was to be in the moment, for soon you’d be back home with your memories, and memories fade.

The guitar intro seems to be saying…

I’m gonna tell you a story.

And when the track starts to fade out two minutes later…

You’re left wondering what happened, what came after, how George was feeling. Could this mega-successful act be just like you and me?

They were and they were not.

The Beatles were the first with this level of success.

But we’re all human under the skin.

And we get in touch with our humanity through art.

Most art is disposable.

And then there’s that stuff that lasts, that permeates our skin, seeps in and becomes part of us.

And its saturation is not based on premeditation, but inspiration. Doesn’t matter if it’s ragged, perfection is irrelevant, it’s got more to do with a FEELING!

When I hear “Don’t Bother Me” I’m brought right back to the winter of ’64. Sledding in the backyard, skiing at Mt. Snow, watching Jim McKay on “Wide World of Sports.”

It’s as if “Meet The Beatles!” is a younger brother, or a cousin, a blood relative.

And at this point, fifty years hence, “Don’t Bother Me” is my favorite song on the record.

He gets the least attention, but George was an integral part of the band. He played the leads, which we all started to pick out shortly. He was the youngest member. But he seemed to have thought about it, and with “Don’t Bother Me” he started to speak his truth. Ain’t it always darkness that leads us to the light.