You may not know him, but he’s a superstar in Brazil.

He was exiled from the country, landed in London in the early seventies, and then came back to Brazil for his victory lap, further success and even a stint in the government as Minister of Culture.

Now Rio is a dangerous place. You can’t walk around willy-nilly and after dark the cars don’t even stop for red lights. Gilberto’s studio is on a hill across the street from the American School, just shy of the favela. The American School wants to move, but no one will buy the land, at least not at a reasonable price.

Gilberto now lives in an apartment building with security features after his family was accosted in his previous home.

But his studio, high in the hills…

Visiting it was like a fall day in Los Angeles. We got behind the gate, every house has a wall and gate, and walked through to a staircase that brought us down to the studio, which to label it “home” would be doing it a disservice. Gilberto was elegant and wry and went into detail about his career and… He wanted to do music, but first he got a degree to please his parents, but after being on TV his career blew up and…

You may not know him, but you’ll learn from his story. You’ll enjoy the discourse. You’ll be brought to a foreign land, which is always illuminating, but ultimately learn…

The music business is always the same.

A snippet:

Gilberto Gil on the podcast, listen at: https://t.co/XhGo4yhWh6 or https://t.co/STRa8mMkLu or… pic.twitter.com/mt1riJhFWX

— Bob Lefsetz (@Lefsetz) May 16, 2018

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“I do believe you’re writing the first autobiographical newsletter.”

That’s what Tom Wolfe wrote me in the nineties, before the internet, before I became self-conscious about revealing my truth for fear of blowback.

Tom Wolfe was never afraid. He threw bombs into the villages of conventional wisdom. He hewed to his own inner voice. He was a cultural signpost.

“The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” was a rite of passage, back when collegians still read books to point the way. Word came down you had to read it, and when you did…

You not only learned about Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters, you were informed of a whole philosophy.

This was before the movie, a couple of years later we all read “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” and just after the counterculture had embraced Jack Kerouac’s “On The Road,” but it was “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” that spread the ethos of this roving band with its own philosophy.

You were either on the bus or off. And it didn’t matter whether you were actually inside or outside, it was a state of mind. Kinda like long hair. Just because you had it, it didn’t mean you were a free, left-wing experimenter.

“The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test” changed my life, as it did for so many others, because it illustrated the POSSIBILITIES! In a world that was your oyster, where you didn’t have to jump through preordained hoops just to survive.

Tech…only a few can get rich.

The rest of us are living lives of drudgery so we can buy the stuff the corporations sell us and get high at night.

That’s life in the twenty first century.

And there’s always been an overclass, an elite we’re supposed to adore and emulate. But Wolfe had no problem skewering Leonard Bernstein’s tribe’s foray into “radical chic.” Who is the person who’s going to skewer the Met Gala? Even better, the royal wedding, tell me why I should care again?

And I remember reading about the “Me Decade” in “New York” magazine on my flight to law school, learning about EST for the very first time, before the self-improvement quacks gained traction across America, before the eighties, the greed decade. Wolfe could see things, both past and present.

Like the space program. His account in “The Right Stuff” is now the de facto story, the one we all refer to, Chuck Yeager is a bigger hero than anybody who got into a capsule.

And despite the movie being so bad, “The Bonfire of the Vanities” captured an era that was puffed-up, when money first began to rule, trump every other quality, as it still does.

So Wolfe was a seer.

But even more he was a stylist, even though he’d hate that word. Because his writing was not affected, it was truth. He played with the art form, he was beholden to no strictures, he skewered “The New Yorker,” which is still too self-satisfied.

One of my most memorable moments, in a bad way, is taking a creative writing course at Middlebury from a professor who wrote sea stories, unsuccessfully. When I read in class it was like “Springtime for Hitler,” jaws would drop, mouths would be agape, nothing would be said. But one time I wrote something that John Clagett, you can never forget the names of impediments, kinda liked, but he said it needed a twist. This was 1973, had he ever heard of Tom Wolfe, of the New Journalism, which was already OVER??

Nobody in that class became a writer. John Clagett died in obscurity. They were about conformity, there’s not only no future in that, but no fun.

Tom Wolfe liked fun.

He lived to the ripe old age of 88, unlike our rock stars, he didn’t abuse his body and die young, we got to see what he could create in his later years. And the usual suspects still decry him. Although most of them are dead. Like the novel. Which is now about style as opposed to plot. That’s what’s lauded in the highfalutin’ journals, what’s taught in MFA programs, ones that say rewriting and editing are king.

No, INSPIRATION is king, and the key is to capture it and not beat the life out of it whilst getting it on paper.

If you’ve never read “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid” test you should. It’ll tell you what happened in California back in the sixties. When it was pooh-poohed as it is now. People can’t handle those who break from the pack. And although they accept Hunter Thompson, he was seen as a comedic character, a court jester who truly wanted a seat at the table, whereas Wolfe never became his subjects, never partook, was always the observer, never worried about offending someone, he was a beacon.

And to me he still is.

The goalposts have moved.

If you’d asked me about this a year ago, I’d be testifying about free speech, decrying Spotify, et al’s, moves.

But as Bob Dylan once put it, things have changed.

Yes, it appears these artists are being punished without being convicted. But this is no different from Harvey Weinstein, Al Franken, Schneiderman… This is the way it’s been going. Is it right? Probably not, but this is what happens when you have decades, centuries, millennia of sexual abuse. Kinda like the L.A. riots, does anybody trust the police since, the rappers were right. Kinda like Watergate, lawyers went from heroes to zeros overnight. So…

The court of public opinion convicted R. Kelly. He’s been skating.

Meanwhile, we’ve got a President who’s committed multiple sexual faux pas and not only got elected, but is continuing to serve. And save me your tribal diatribe, you’re a right winger, you support Trump, I get it, but do you support sexual abuse?

I doubt it.

And let’s not forget, Spotify, et al, are not banning R. Kelly from their services, they’re just not PROMOTING HIM! Just like every artist does not get an endcap at physical retail, just like every artist does not get on the Apple or Spotify homepage. You can still find his music, still listen to him, but you’ve got to want to, it’s not being foisted on people willy-nilly.

You don’t have to look back in history too far to see the same thing. David Geffen dropped the Geto Boys. Didn’t prevent them from making new music. Should Spotify, et al, be complicit in advancing the career of R. Kelly? Many of his victims would say no.

What does this impend in the sphere, what about other bad actors, or ACCUSED bad actors?

I know, I know, the hoi polloi like a rebel, but to what degree have artists fed into this, perpetrated it, is this good for society? Maybe if we send a message if you abuse women we won’t promote your music men will stop, isn’t that a good thing?

And when YouTube and Facebook didn’t police hate speech and inaccuracies, look what happened, Russia came in and spread fake news, and bad actors were all over YouTube with heinous messages, should there be a line?

I think most people would say yes, they believe in truth, they don’t want it obfuscated, and we’re a long way from the fairness rule, you can be victimized by algorithms that feed you stuff reinforcing beliefs that no one should have.

Oh, please don’t take this to an extreme conclusion, about all tracks being banned, about chilling free speech, that’s not what this is about.

And the male-dominated record industry has been based on abusing women, it was the ethos of heavy metal, the only thing that’s curbed this behavior is cellphone cameras and social media, should we ban them so men can continue to invade women with mud sharks?

And if one remembers, rap acts used to sample willy-nilly, without getting the rights, as a result of lawsuits/crackdown, they started making original beats. Was this a good thing or a bad one? I don’t know, but we need a rule of law.

Then again, that’s the issue here, R. Kelly has not been convicted.

But let’s retry all those rape cases now, where the juries believed the perp. I bet a lot would come out the other way. And the more sunlight and changed values we have, the more women are willing to come forward, to hold bad actors accountable and change behavior.

Women don’t have much of a voice in the music business. That does not mean Spotify doing the right thing, a company run by Swedish men, is bad.

Once again, I’m troubled by the conviction of men in the marketplace who have not been convicted in court. But that rule no longer applies. And at what point do you save future women (girls!) from abuse? Do you just let someone continue to rape until a court convicts them?

This is complicated, and touchy. Where is the line?

Damned if I know.

But we’re trying to find it. This is the only way we can, by making moves, taking chances.

I don’t want to live in a society where abusing women gets a pass. I don’t want to live in a society where music is the abuser in chief, under the rubric of “free speech.”

This is not Tipper Gore and the PRMC. No one is saying R. Kelly can’t make music. No one is saying people can’t listen to it. Hell, there’s no warning attached to his tunes regarding his behavior. This is solely a decision not to promote.

And the most vocal people challenging this are…

Right wingers, who out of the other side of their mouth support our abusing President.

And musicians and their support teams who fear falling on the wrong side of this equation.

Are we gonna make Spotify, et al, the new NRA? Protecting the right to “kill,” despite so many being sacrificed in the process?

Turns out schoolchildren want gun regulation. And I’d say most people want to rule out hate speech and sexual abuse.

Once again, we’re trying to find the line.

And if you’re one of those blowhards pointing to Bill Clinton…

IT WAS A DIFFERENT ERA!

That was then and this is now.

Never forget it.

The North Water: A Novel

Read this book.

You won’t know half the words, you’ll sometimes keep reading even though you didn’t quite understand what just happened, but you’ll be riveted nonetheless, I couldn’t wait to get back into my room in T.O. to dive into it, and I had trouble turning out the light, it’s that kind of book.

The kind on paper you won’t be interested in. A nineteenth century whaling story. But in so many ways contemporary. Yet antiquated. I remember in Tahiti hearing the story of the Bounty, and the professor saying there was no way the islanders wanted to be with the sailors, because the mariners hadn’t taken a shower in months, wore the same clothes, this was an era before hygiene was prominent.

So you might be a tad grossed out, but that’s kind of the appeal.

So what is “The North Water”?

On one hand, it’s the story of sailing into icy waters long before electronic navigation, when you were fighting the elements for very little pay, assuming you’re a crew member.

And the protagonist is a surgeon with a backstory.

And if it were just about the adventure, that’d be enough.

But as you continue to read, you realize it’s a thriller.

Now this book came out two years ago. I passed it by until I got an e-mail from an agent telling me he was strangely addicted. And then I read a story in the “Times” talking about the phenomenon.

You see the thing with books is you have to read them. And not that many people do. So it can take a long time for them to percolate in the marketplace, especially if they’re not typical, heavily-promoted genre books.

This is what reading is supposed to be. An entry into a world where you’re disconnected from everyday life and intrigued by what you’re encountering.

I’m not gonna give you any more plot, because first and foremost I read for plot, and if someone gives it to me in advance, why bother?

And I won’t guarantee all of you will like this.

And it takes a while for them to get on the ship.

But if you stick with it, you’ll enjoy the journey.

P.S. Now I’m in the midst of Curtis Sittenfeld’s “You Think It, I’ll Say It,” and I read the title story on my way back from Toronto and I can’t stop thinking about it. The book is a collection of short stories, which is frequently an ungratifying format, but Sittenfeld’s writing cuts like butter and there’s so much truth and humanity in the stories you won’t want them to end. This is the kind of writing that makes me feel connected, that someone understands me, the kind that made me want to be a writer.