When You Kill Time, You Murder Success

I still remember the first time I saw someone wearing a Stiff Records shirt.  If it ain't Stiff it ain't worth a fuck.  The logo and catch line immediately burned into my brain. It was a long time before I even knew what it was or what it meant.

I have always loved music.  As a kid, I listened to the radio, listened to albums my parents owned, even started working just to make money to buy my own records.

My brother and older friends influenced me on new stuff, from Bob Marley to Devo to The Ramones. This journey with music,  just as a fan at first,  started before MTV and music videos.  Back when radio influenced an artist’s success, the playlist dictating what we listened to - and it wasn't all bad. Freeform DJ’s played what they wanted in between the songs on the weekly playlists, Carol Miller or Meg Griffin popping in a random new artist that wasn't a label priority. 

Back when magazines were out weekly, and you could go and read everything from Village Voice to Melody Maker or NME.  If you went to a good record store, you could find the DIY fanzines. 

When part of the beauty of music was the discovery.  The articles, the photos, the descriptions. Music was coming out that was so original, there was nothing to compare it to.  Dancehall, ska, punk, rap, new wave...it was all new.  

Record stores became the place to spend weekend days. Venus Records, Bleeker Bob's, Barry's Stereo and Sound, and my personal favorite, Sounds. (St. Marks was the Mecca of cool: record stores, clothing shops, pizza places, St. Marks Theatre, and the stoops where you could just sit with your friends and hang out and talk).  These spots were how I discovered new music:  hours spent flipping through the vinyl bins, listening to the carefully curated music played in the store by the record store clerks.  You would be browsing, hear something and ask what it was. And then right there, you would buy that record, having discovered it just because they played it.

Through these selected purchases, patterns emerged.  What is this label?  Who is this producer?  What is this scene? 

I got into The Specials and Two Tone. My brother and I were gifted it by my dad's associate, Faith, who was British.  In this pre-MTV world, we would sit and pore through the photos, read the credits, learn the lyrics.  Know each record and song from the beginning of side A to the end of side B.  Playing those records repeatedly, playing them for friends, playing them before and after school, during dinner and before going to bed.  Buying an album was an investment, so if you bought it, you were committed.  Hard earned cash needed to be spent wisely. Through the need to be economic with my purchases I began to build trust with specific labels, people, writers, and DJ's.  

I started listening to a station on Long Island called WLIR, whose slogan was "Dare to be different". They had great DJ's, no rules, specialty shows like Across the Pond or Punky Reggae Party and Screamers of the Week showcasing hand picks songs that I would listen to and then make my Saturday and Sunday trek to St. Marks to search the bins for the songs I’d recently heard.  Paying extra for the imports that didn't have domestic distribution yet, buying 12' remix extended singles just to get that B Side that wasn't available anywhere else.  It was a true treasure hunt and if something was on a particular label I liked, I bought it.  

Def Jam.  The beginning of hip hop for me.  The 12" releases of the singles by their artists didn't even usually have art.  It was black or maroon-ish with “Def Jam Recordings“ on the back in their iconic logo,  and the front was blank with the label displayed only with the name of the artist and the name of the song. I’d have no idea what it sounded like, but would always snatch it up without question.  

Same went for 2 Tone, Go Feet (the English Beat's label), Moon Records, Sire, IRS, Twin Tone, Island, Trojan and of course Stiff.

I finally understood why If it ain't Stiff, It ain't worth a fuck. Why people wore shirts with the label art as much as they wore the shirts of the bands on those labels.  It was a silent wink from one fan to the other.  It was this club that anyone could join just based on your openness to discovery.  It was a trust made between the label, their bands, and the fans.  In a world where I could probably afford 2-3 albums a week from the money made by delivering newspapers, I learned to trust certain labels enough that if an artist was on one of them, I was pretty sure I would love it. Even in the old days of retail, there was an overwhelming number of music to choose from. So having this narrowed-down process of where to put your hard-earned money made decisions easier to make. 

Fan devotion to the labels and the artists meant artists had several albums, singles, and time to build their audience.  By signing to a particular label, working with specific producers and being cosigned by other artists gave one an edge, an audience to work from when starting. When I started going to shows regularly I saw that these artists could play CBGB's on their first tour, support a headliner on the next at The Ritz, and then headline the Ritz - all on one album cycle; only to return on their next tour to do multiple nights at The Ritz and eventually move around the corner on to The Palladium.  These were all career setting achievements.  Three to four albums in they were creating great music without the need to sell millions, having dedicated fans, selling merch. While would break through to the next level (most with the help of MTV), but it wasn't a necessity.  Artists were able to tour worldwide, building careers.  I remember in the 80's, promoters and artists realized that because of the over 21 clubs (like the Ritz), there was a huge number of fans not seeing them.  Thus began “all ages“ and matinee shows.  

 

I worked as an.A&R person from the 1990's to the 2000s.  Even in the 90's Columbia Records, we had the ability and the talent at the labels to develop acts.  The motto at the time was “As Long as It Takes”, and for a lot of acts, this was true.  For others, not so much.  No fault of the label and people there, it is the music business.  (A sad truth in business: there are winners and losers.)

But in the early/mid 90's, independent labels were emerging.  Not like the 80's where indies were owned by majors (like Sire or IRS), but actual stand-alone indie labels signing and releasing artists and breaking into the mainstream.  Of course, this only would attract majors to go and make offers to take those artists from their labels.

I learned about this firsthand when I heard an album called Let’s Go by Rancid and then saw them perform at the Epitaph Summer Nationals. The thing was, I understood what the situation was.  They were a punk band on my favorite punk label.  They made their second release for $5,000 with the owner of the label.  While they blew my socks off, I knew this band was a band I wanted to work with - but someday and not yet.  They were growing at the perfect pace where they were.  I really wanted to meet them though, to let them know I was a huge fan and if/when they ever were interested in talking to a major, I was their guy.  But there was nobody better to do what Epitaph did and what they were going to do here to develop this band. Rancid was under the radar that the time,  but Green Day had just released Dookie, and everyone was all about "find me one of those".  In an A&R meeting I played Rancid and received the "Get that" marching order.  So, while I knew this was not the time, I understood my orders and if there was anyone I needed to "chase" I couldn't think of a band more worthy of chasing.  I told many people about them, who told other people, who then also began to pursue.  The band went to the 11th hour of signing with a major before changing their minds to remain where they should have always been.  They became legendary and continue to be successful with Epitaph. Staying with Epitaph is what felt right to the band both business-wise and ethically. 

Many of my colleagues at Columbia and I would discuss how bands were getting picked up too fast or before they were ready and coming to a label that didn’t have the patience to develop these artists.  We discussed creating a label like a AAA baseball team;  where if we saw/found someone we thought had potential, we could sign them and would through the RED distribution system building these artists to give them the time and resources to get to a place where we had something to work with and upstream to Columbia.  The old 80's model of an indie idea in a major system.  If they weren’t commercial, they could keep making records until and if they got there.  Smaller budgets, more focus on development ideas.  A way we could be an indie and not have to poach artists or buy an existing label to get their acts.  We even went as far as meeting with Sal Licata - the head of RED at the time - who was all in.  Sadly, that was cut short by my dismissal from Columbia.

The major label upstream from indie labels became the norm from the mid 90's.  It became more prevalent in the 2000s and on, because the previous slow-cooker artist development was less and less frequent among the major labels.  Not because they weren’t interested, but because it took too long, and we sadly live in a world now where time waits for no one.

I was recently hired to head a label called Motherwolf. I was fortunate to be introduced by a friend to a great guy who was actively looking for someone to run an indie label.  The label’s vision is based on quality of artists, fairness, shared artistic vision, artist development,  and being artist- friendly.  

The idea is to be called a "singles" label.  But I know you can't develop on a single.  If I believe in an artist, the idea of single is great.  Even though I may believe in them, working together is a commitment and a chemistry.  So, starting off with a single is like a good first date.  See how the chemistry works.  How you fit together in the process.  Does the artist show dedication and are they hungry?  Do I want this more than they do?  If I do, the chemistry is not right.  For the artist: do they feel know what I’m doing? Do I have the right vision and resources to move them into the right direction?  If not, then each of us have the option of moving forward on different paths, no extended contract disabling them to move on.  Of course, when I decide to work with the artist, I want the relationship to continue and move forward together.

The development idea with artist-friendly deals is to help build these artists so that they find an audience, take small steps in the process to really lock in and build. 

Whether I sign an artist is not dependent on data or algorithms.  It's about talent.  It's about hearing something/someone and seeing the audience.  If we can build trust and elevate that artist, the hopes are to keep going and building more.  If a major label or a major indie discovers them and wants to take them somewhere I can't, then Carpe Diem.  If the band or artist build where they want to just take it solo, same.  

As mentioned earlier,  artist development is difficult to achieve at a major label.  Again, not because they don't want to do it, but because there isn't enough time.  I have spoken to artists courted by majors who admitted that they are scared to make the jump out of fear that they aren't ready to perform to the expected levels of a major label yet.  They know they will when the time is right, but feel they still need a little more time prior to going under that microscope.  So, the dilemma they encounter is, if they don't take the offer, they’ll miss the opportunity; but if they do sign to a major, they risk losing everything that got them here if it their release underperforms.  Remember, 4 million streams by a DIY/Indie artist are huge.  4 million streams on a major are an underperformance.   A DIY/Indie artist works at their own schedule, a major label artist (sadly many times, not all) works in an hourglass.  I’m looking to work with an artist or a major label who want that time and efforts to not rush into a situation too soon in this potentially critical time.

2022 has started off well.  With more releases out there, we are pushing the boulder up the hill; me, my trusted and awesome coworkers, and the artists.  We are all in it together, and want to “win” one step at a time.

My goal is to make Motherwolf like the best of the labels that “raised“ me.  A place where when we put out a release, someone will give it a shot, because it's on Motherwolf.  Maybe they'll discover a new genre, maybe they'll want to be part of it, maybe I’ll see someone walk down the street in a shirt with the label’s logo.  

Valentines Day. The Rose no one really knows

In 1994, when I was working at Columbia Records, i signed a band from Detroit called Sponge. If you are of the 90's you would know them or at least have heard their song "Plowed" (Yes, one of Howard Stern's favorite songs). It was a great time in the business. Records were selling, expense accounts were flowing, labels were developing artists. There was room for growth. But as we know, all good things must come to an end.

But that's not what this blog is about. That's a boring "i remember back" story that old fuckers like me seem to rehash daily, like guy I knew that would always remind me how much gas cost when they were kids. Only difference of course being, when they would talk about gas, i would know what they were talking about. If I mention Sponge to anyone under 30, they look at me with zero connection or reference. Then i have to remember, most of them were born after Kurt Cobain died. Where did the time go?

Anyway, back in 1994, I also met a wonderful young lady, who happened to be the 12 year old daughter of my friend Joe, who was a guitar player in Sponge. This young lady's name was Rosalyn. Funny, smart, and just a natural star. She was like a little sister to me from the get go. She had the luxury of growing up when her dad's band was in its prime. Got to go on tour, meet bands and just live the life. She had a natural gift for music and her enthusiasm and fearlessness, made me want to help her out. This lead to my first endeavor with her. One day, she was walking around her house singing a song over and over again. This of course because something her dad would tell Vinnie, the singer of Sponge about. They wrote and song and told me about it. I told them I would pay to have them record it and we could make a 7" from it. So, just like that, "I'm A Big Girl" with the b-side being "Femme Fetal" by Velvet Underground was recorded under the name 27 Mauve. The song would be performed as an encore on tour, sometimes with Rosalyn performing it, sometimes just the band. But, it because a fan favorite and we sold out of the 7" that were sold at shows.

It was pretty much set up to be a novelty item. But, Rose got the bug and just naturally gravitated to the guitar and singing. Her heroes at this point being Nirvana and Hole. She was all about that and punk rock. I was proud. I have always loved turning people onto music and she was ripe for influence. She of course, though a lot of the stuff i was turning her on to was shit. But, she was 14 at this point. It's expected.

I always knew something would happen with her, just what and when wasn't clear. During these next couple of years, with Saint Cobain being her religion, not only was she influenced by the music, but by the demons too. Neither I nor her dad were aware of this for a long time.

In 1999/2000, I had the ultimate highlight, situation both professionally and as a music fan experience. I spent a short time (a little less than a year), managing Rancid. One of my favorite bands that I had met in 1996 while at Columbia. Long story short, I was in the beginning of the (well documented) bidding war that ended very bad for one guy. I always kept a very good relationship with them (specifically Tim) because it was never about me getting the band. It was about them getting the best situation and when it didn't pan out in my favor, it was ok and i let them know that. Because of that, 5 years later they would ask me to look after them. It really was a dream come true for me. One of the bonus of that time working with Rancid, was being with Tim on a daily basis. At that time, he was married to Brody, who was starting a band called The Distillers. They were a 3 piece and fucking awesome. But, like Rancid (who were originally a 3 piece), i could see them needing a 2nd guitar player. One day I casually asked Brody if she would consider a 2nd guitarist and she told me she was dying for one, but wanted a girl and couldn't find one. The bell in my head rang (maybe that's why i have tinnitus)and I told her about Rose. I even told her she was coming out to visit me in a week or two (she wasn't), but i wanted them to meet each other. Brody was stoked and told me to make sure to have them meet when she came. Now, I needed to call Rose and her dad to see if she was interested and ask if i could fly her out to stay with me for a couple weeks to have her meet Brody. I got "Yes" all around, booked her a ticket, had her come out. Her and Brody met, and I think i saw her maybe 2 more times over the next two weeks. The two were inseparable and just clicked. It was awesome. Rosalyn, was now in The Distillers and recording and touring. She was 16 turning 17.

The next couple of years, i didn't see her, but kept tabs on her. I was always a phone call away, but she was living the rock and roll life. I still had no idea of her demons or how deep they went. After the 1st tour, she, now known as "Casper Rose" ended up moving to Berkeley and living with her then (most awesome) boyfriend Tim, who she met when he was in a band called Nerve Agents, who were also on the same label, Hellcat. I went up to visit her a couple times (i have no recollection why), but things seemed like they were not 100%. I would get calls from her dad or from her sometimes, when there was an issue that i could try and help out with, but she was a big girl. The Distillers ended up making their next album Sing, Sing Death House, where Rose actually contributed on songwriting on songs as felt like the band was going to pop. They had all the best going for them. But, Rose was a mess. Dope sick, addicted, every parents nightmare. They went on Warped Tour and she was literally out of control. She was literally the Sid Vicious of the band. Pure, real, a showman, but extremely volatile, unpredictable and dangerous to herself and to others. Fat Mike even wrote a song about her on the NOFX album War on Errorism called "Decom-Posuer" that basically was his observation of her. The bands motivation to move forward and her motivation of derail brought them to a parting. Rose left The Distillers soon after and honestly, for the public, her whereabouts became those of Big Foot. Many stories, theories, folklore.

For me and her dad, it was sad to see it happen, both of us knew her talent and how she was just self sabotaging her life. Nothing could be done. She was a dope addict with no motivation. The Distillers went on to do great. Even announcing a reunion (sans Casper Rose). It absolutely has been a "what if" for me. I don't think she ever cared as much as we did. But that was her at the time.

Over the next 10 years, with her dad being a very close friend, I would know what she was up to, where she was living, making sure she's alive. We would speak whenever she called me and I would always try and encourage her music. I promised her, anytime she had a desire to record, i would pay for it. She would "clean up", get motivated, call me, tell me about songs she wrote, send me demos. I sent her in the studio like 2 times over those years, the results would be inspiring, but usually organized confusion. But, what I did find was a voice and a natural gift. But, that gift and voice were wasted as long as she was a junkie. There is a lot of truth to the saying "Never trust a junkie". I just couldn't give up on her. We had so many start/stops of recovery, so many heartaches and conversations I would have with her dad. But he was amazing and also never gave up.

In 2012 (i think), she moved to Tallahassee, FL. She had to get out of Detroit, where she knew every junkie, thief, asshole in the world and was going to be found one day in an abandoned house shooting gallery. Her mom (xoxo Margo), was moving down there with her husband at the time and son and took Rosalyn. But, better weather doesn't take the junk out of the junkie. Junkies are like cockroaches, they live anywhere and everywhere. We started speaking again when she got down there. She really wanted to start playing again, and like I always promised, if she did, i would pay for it. We had more stop starts and she ended up meeting a good guy and having a baby.

Gia was born and I was sure this was the fix. It took a while, but through ups and downs, she made the decision and came to the realization that life wasn't going to be shit anymore. She checked herself into a rehab and remained there for a full year. While in there, she had self realizations, did yoga, worked on herself and did it for Gia. We would speak periodically, and she had a guitar and was writing songs. As always, I promised when she got out, i would pay for her to record.

She got out or rehab in 2016, she went to Detroit for Christmas and recorded 4 amazing songs that we released super DIY on an EP called Songs from Rehab. Musically, the EP is excellent. Lyrically, honest. It was a great return to the world. Not a "throw it out there", but a commitment and dedication. We set up social media accounts to slowly ease her back into the world. She was warmly received and reconnected with Brody though social media. That was a good closure, full circle for her. Both Moms now, still writing and playing. The Ep was a very quiet release, got a little press, put out a 7" with a great indie label in LA called Wink And Spit. The label owner (and artists herself) Kelsey was a Distillers fan and reached out to her through social media. We had no expectations for the release, I just wanted to encourage her songwriting and get her going and doing what she is gifted to do.

A year passed and life happens. You have kids, they take priority. She's a great mom and just such a wonderful human. She called me in August and stared sending me songs she was working on. They were all great. So, we made a plan to record again. So once again at Christmas, she went back to Detroit and recorded 3 new songs with her band which includes her dad, Joe on bass.

We just released the 1st of the 3. A song called Valentines Day. Again, a lyrically honest song with a beautiful melody and vocal performance. We made a video on her iPhone that Gia shot and I edited with my limited editing skills (DIY). The reception has been good so far. Hopefully more people discover it, because it deserves it.

Never give up. This has been what I have lived by. You believe in something or someone, stick with them. I believe in Rose. Since she was 12. I'm not looking to get rich, but what I can do is help her express herself and hope other people discover her too. I teach at a music school. I believe in passion and if there is something there. i want to be someone who at least can help them see it in themselves and maybe even move the ball forward.

Rose could have easily have given up. Shit, she actually did a few times, but she bounced back. From junkie to mom. Never lost her heart and never lost me. Her continuous hard work at keeping her life together and fueling her creativity. Building a great life with her boyfriend Thomas, his kids and the light of her life Gia, i couldn't be prouder of her.

Happy Valentines Day, Kid.

You're Sheer Perfection (Thank You)

When I read the rumor yesterday that someone had been found unresponsive at Paisley Park, I got mad that anyone would create a stupid rumor. But, in typical fashion, the rumor was proven right within 5 minutes of the original post.

Prince was dead.

I was about to start teaching a class to 6 young students who weren't even a thought in their parents minds when Purple Rain came out. Shit, They weren't a thought when Emancipation was released... But what was amazing was when I told them the news, it hit them as if it was an artist they grew up on, just as I did.

I taught my class and every 10 minutes, i would have to break my lecture to talk about Prince. But, it didn't hit me emotionally, it was more of the shock and the memories I had that related to him and his music. I actually finished the class early by 15 minutes, which is something I never do, because I like to hear myself talk... but I was out of things to say. It really was shock.

After that, I spoke to a couple friends, but still wasn't hitting me. Then every station was doing their tributes, monuments being lit up in purple, news reports, twitter comments, Facebook comments. There was no ignoring the truth.

This morning it hit me and I got to remembering why this individual was so important to me. It was the music. It was the swagger. It was the punk rock. It was the fuck it attitude. It was everything he was about.

I first heard Prince in (I want to say) 1980. My friend Nakato Mubanda, who was a few years older than me let me borrow Prince's 2nd album. We both lived in Waterside Plaza and Nakato and her brothers were like an extended family. We all knew each other from going to school together, hanging out on the plaza together, it was NYC in the 80's. She handed me the album and I remember looking at it wondering who this dude was and why was he on a Pegasus on the back? I put that album on and I don't think a week has gone past where I haven't listened to something by Prince. I still have that record. I think it's too late to give it back. plus, I don't know where Nakato is, but I love her and her brothers and thank her for our friendship to this day.

My love for Prince would only continue for the years. I remember buying Controversy and actually learning The Lords Prayer because of this album. It was kinda how i learned my times tables through Schoolhouse Rock. It needed to be something I could sing, I guess. Anyway, that album came with (like many of Prince's LP's) a poster of Prince in a bikini in the shower with a crucifix hanging on the shower tile. I thought this was the funniest thing ever and remember showing it to my mother thinking she would hate it Well, she didn't. So much for teenage rebellion. Only Prince could come up with songs, lyrics and imagery that would stick in your head forever. He was also that artists that could put such a poster in the album and both women and guys (straight or gay) would hang it up in their room.

Then of course would come 1999 and MTV. We all knew Little Red Corvette by heart and 1999 of course. But it was that double album that we would all learn word for word and play at every party. This songs introduced people to Prince, but he wasn't about only the hits. We all knew what D.M.S.R. stood for and that was an album track. Every song on this album sounds just as fresh today as it did in 1981. The man was brilliant. How many artists could write a song about the millennium 18 years the would become the anthem for the turn of the century?

Then there was Purple Rain. I remember being in Nova Scotia visiting family that summer. I had just turned 15 and the movie was coming out the following week. I made my dad take me, because there was no way I was going to miss that film the day it came out. It was a musical version Star Wars. I just watched it and felt like, what the fuck just happened. You could feel something happening to everyone there and it showed as the year went on. Prince was now a household name. The album was a classic. It was still Prince. He never changed for anyone. it was sexual, controversial, heart felt, funky, guitar heavy and pop. Nobody could do that and cross so many musical genres and gain such die acceptance from everyone.

I could go on and on about the obvious... but I feel like everyone has the same types of memories. Some additional highlights that involved Prince included... He was the only artists I camped out all night to get tickets to his 1988 Lovesexy Tour at Madison Square Garden (i snuck in a tape recorder and taped it), I got to see his purple BMW parked outside of the Record Plant everyday while Tim Palmer was mixing the debut Sponge album. During that time, found out that Prince would go in around 10pm, write, record and mix a whole album by the following morning. I actually got to see him there once. We were told not to look at him, but I was all "fuck that, I'm looking", so I did and when he saw me I immediately looked at the floor. Yes he had that kind of vibe.

I got to see him play two surprise shows at the House of Blues, one private event at Roseland, traded tapes with other fans of rarities, live shows and demos (much like the Grateful Dead fans would trade live shows), made many friends just because of our love of Prince.

I think I own every 12" he ever put out and every CD. With Prince, it wasn't about the hits. It was about the b-sides as well. There are so many songs that people may or may not know about. For example, the B-side of Mountains, from Parade was "Alexa De Paris"...an instrumental that he plays drums on that just will blow your mind. I would have posted it, but you won't find it online.

All the songs he wrote for other people that were huge, the artists he nurtured, the careers he made and the musicians he discovered... his legacy is one of a legend indeed.

I will forever miss him. Even though I wasn't into the later stuff as much, he was still and will only be the only Prince.

What other artist could be identified by a single name, a symbol and a color.

If you need me, I'll never leave
I know, that you know, without you there is no me
There is no me
Without you there is no sea
There is no shore
Love is to weak to define how much I adore
You, child
You, child
The last words you hear

Goodnight, Sweet Prince.

Oh Debbie...Hi.

I saw this documentary called Blondie's New York, that aired last week on the Smithsonian Channel (yeah, i never heard of that either).  It was about the making of the album Parallel Lines.  It featured the band and producer, Mike Chapman now, talking about making of the album, the writing and the recording.  Things like this are so awesome.  They usually have the artists sitting at a mixing console, soloing tracks as they talk about them.

Hearing Debbie Harry's vocals on "One Way Or Another" solo and her describing the recording and Mike Chapman describing his perspective really takes you back into the studio in 1977.  I could watch stuff like this all day. 

Parallel Lines was a total coming of age album for me.  I was 9 when it came out and Debbie Harry was my 1st crush.  Her voice, her look (even today) is still one of the sexiest women out there. 
From the moment "Hanging on the Telephone"* starts with a UK telephone ring tone, I get transported to when I first heard the album.  It still sounds just as fresh as it did 36 years ago.
*"Hanging on the Telephone" was originally written by The Nerves

Of course, this made me feel nostalgic and sad that bands like this don't exist anymore.  So while I spent all this time listening over and over to the album, my mind subconsciously ventured to another band favorite of mine from the 90's, Letters To Cleo.

I can't believe I never drew the comparison.  Not that Letters to Cleo were trying to be Blondie, they just shared a lot of the same musical DNA. Which would easily explain my immediate attraction to the band.

Blondie.  6 members.  Guitar and Singer relationship, killer drummer and key bookends to seal it all up.

Letters to Cleo.  5 members (ok not 6 like Blondie, but stick with me).  Guitar and singer relationship, killer drummer and key bookends to seal it up.

Singer.  Both women, Deborah Harry and Kay Hanley are tough as nails, beautiful and very distinct voices with as much attitude as sex appeal.

Both Chris Stein and Mike Eisenstein (Hello?  "Stein"?) are amazing guitar players and songwriters that complemented their romantic halves.

Stacy Jones and Clem Burke, both amazing drummers who both went on to play with other artists and hold amazing drummer reputations and great hair.

I'm not looking to short change Nigel Harrison, Jimmy Destri, Frank Infante, Scott Riebling or Greg McKenna but I don't want to go too into the history that I have looked up and know way too much.  I'm a fan, what can I say...

Musically, both bands crafted great pop/rock songs.  Both had great lyrics with a great sarcasm and truth.  Romance, great chorus and just great musicianship.  Their live shows also carried this vibe and you couldn't take your eyes off of their charismatic singers.

I had the pleasure of getting to know Letters To Cleo and call a few of them friends!  Even their Manager, Creamer who I love even though he's a Red Sox fan... That's a whole other blog. 

Kay even performed one time with Sponge on Conan O'Brien as a guest while they were on tour together.  Even with her just standing in the back singing back ups, she stole the show. 

Letters to Cleo never reached the level I feel they should have, but that's not their fault.  If the label was like Chrysalis was in the 70's and 80's, I have no doubt they would have gotten there.  The business was just different. Their records to me are timeless.

Blondie keeps doing it, Debbie Harry is still hot.  The songs are forever and albums like Parallel Lines are what make me LOVE music.

I have had a great week just listening to both catalogues of 2 great bands.  If reading this gets you to revisit them on YouTube, pull albums from your catalogue or even Spotify. 

If you trashed all your old albums,  I hope you take the time to go to a record store, buy a CD, LP or even to iTunes and put these bands into your rotation for a week.   It will leave you with a smile on your face.

Blondie are New York and Letters to Cleo are one of the only things I will ever admit to loving from Boston.

Paint A Vulgar Picture

After being someone who worked in the music industry for half my life, the one thing I dreaded becoming was the guy that would look at new bands or labels and say things like "back in my day".  I'm only 44, so my day wasn't really that long ago.

The speed that things have changed (not for the better) is incredible.  I don't care about the music and whether it's shitty or just unoriginal replicas of music from the past.  Ok I do care, but that's not the point of this post.  My issue today is how the opportunity of growth and development for an artist or band has become a thing of the past at a major label.  Now before I hear all about the indies, etc, that also is not the point of this.  I'm more talking about the boutique labels that existed as placed to grow and nurture before the big money and hits came.  Labels that existed within a label or were distributed by a major system, but didn't have the major label money to spend to develop those bands.  Sure the costs today are higher and the demise of record stores are also part of that, but there is always a way to adapt and adjust while still carrying on with the same marketing strategy.

Labels like IRS, Stiff, Reprise are ones that immediately come to mind.  But more important to me, Sire. Sire was home to The Ramones, Talking Heads, The Smiths, Madonna... The list is endless of great artists and bands. Sire was special mostly because if their large range of musical taste.  What they brought was almost always quality stuff that was new or important (even if we didn't know yet).  The commitment they had to artists was what mattered.  I didn't work with any bands that were on the label, nor did I work there (so those people might have a different thoughts), but I base my opinions on how I saw it.  Some of these bands broke into super stardom, some never got as big as they should have, but they did make a careers worth of material to be a band as a career (for the most part).  But specifically, Sire put out albums that made a mark and were important in their quality and what they will mean to people in the future.  Benchmark albums that get cited in the "most influential album" lists. 

I just got the brilliant new album by Against Me!

Transgender Dysphoria Blues is an album that belongs on Sire.  The only problem is, Sire dropped them 4 years ago.

Against Me! Had the luxury of putting out 3 albums independently and 2 on Sire.  The first release came out on (very small indie) No Idea.  Got a place to grow and build a fan base with Fat Wreck Chords for 2 albums.  Following those releases, they then made the bold move to Sire for the next 2 releases.  I'll be honest, I would always get mad when punk bands did this move to a major.  And I'll say it.  This was always because I was jealous that it wasn't me doing it.  That's the truth.

The move to Sire was to grow bigger, get more opportunities, sell more records.  Makes sense.  Sire made sense. Shit, if I was managing them, I would have done it too.  Only at this point the business was changing and the major label system wasn't changing with it.  The life span of a new or developing artist is not very long.  The numbers needed to keep a band working on a major are also amazing.  Because a release that sells 50,000 copies is a huge success on an indie, but a flop on a major. 

Against Me! did exactly what what it was supposed to do.  They made 2 great album and got bigger.  They grew with the opportunity.  They were following the Sire model.  Only, Sire wasn't that Sire anymore and that model was long broken. I'm not blaming those that were there, it's just the system and the loss of artist development vision.  They tore the trees from the field for not growing fast enough.  Sure, sometimes things happen faster, but that's a fluke (Offspring).  They failed to let them grow even though the roots were strong.   The billboard debuts for both records showed they were on their way.  New Wave entered at 57 and the follow up White Crosses at 34.  The touring was growing and the merchandise was insane, radio was playing them.  So why drop them?  It became a numbers game and the cost of keeping them wasn't worth it.  If this was the case back in the day, The Ramones would never have gotten to Road to Ruin, The Smiths would never have gotten to The Queen is Dead and Talking Heads would never have been able to release Fear of Music.

It looks like it became a blessing in disguise because on January 21st, 4 years after White Crosses came out, Against Me! debuted at number 34.  The album was released on Total Treble Music, the bands own label.

I'm happy for them, because this is a true rock and roll record.  If say punk album, but the word has been butchered so much, it would devalue it.  They never gave up and instead Laura Jane Grace and the band put it all into this, almost rebirth of Against Me!

Transgender Dysphoria Blues is an album about depression, living as someone you aren't, all the things that come with it and changing who you are and the what comes with that.  I think it's a important album for anyone who is struggling with any of these issues to know they aren't alone and hopefully gives them strength to live a full and happy life.  It's also an album for people to feel the pain some people have when dealing with these issues as well.  Learn how they feel and how to be supportive.

I hope as an indie, it gets the attention it deserves, but I can't help but wish it had a chance with the support of a Sire of yesteryear.  This album would fit right up there next to classics like Meat is Murder and Music for the Masses or Remain in Light

When The Smiths released the album "Strangeways Here We Come", the song Paint A Vulgar Picture always stood out to me.  Mostly because of the music and melody, but also because of the lyrics.  I kind of got what Morrissey was saying, but not really until I got into the business.  The story behind the song, is basically when an artist dies, the record company finds a way to parade the catalogue and anything they can to make a buck from what's over.

Catalogue is the meat of a label to make money.  It makes sense.  Exploit the catalogue, hope to please fans and make new ones while getting as much from your investment than you can.

But to sell a catalogue, you need to have a catalogue.  Having a greatest hits album with only 2 albums worth of catalogue is not a career.

By not developing artists anymore like they used to by investing time and money in something they believe in is killing it off, shortening careers and aborting the possibility of what could be.   

Just imagine if the business was then how it is today.  I'm sure you can make a list of bands who  would never have made it.

I would post a link to stream Transgender Dysphoria Blues, but I would rather you plopped down $9.99 and supported the independent artist, rock and roll and future careers.

Here's to the the underdogs and here's to Laura Jane Grace. 

Gabba Gabba Hey

I may have said this before, The Ramones are my favorite band of all time.

There isn't a band/artist I listen to more.

When 3 of the 5 original members died, I couldn't have been sadder.  Joe Strummer came a close 2nd to breaking my heart.  I look back at moments when I could have said something to any of them (Dee Dee lived near me in Hollywood and I would see him all the time), Joey, I would walk by or see at shows in NYC and Johnny, who I recall sitting next to me at a restaurant long after they broke up in Los Angeles.  But, one of my issues in life (and my career), is that I'm a fan first and get super scared and intimidated when I'm in the same room as people I admire.

I just spent the evening watching End Of The Century - The Story of The Ramones for the 8th time.  Every time I watch this brilliant documentary, I get sad all over again.  Sad from the story itself, sad that they are gone and never to play again and sad that I never said the things I wanted to say when the opportunity presented itself.

The words that were written in their huge catalogue and the melody and most important, the influence they had just kills me.  This happens so often when pioneers and talented people that are responsible for a sound, for an emotion from the listener, never gets it's due.  The Ramones, Fishbone, Bad Brains,  Schooly D, the list goes on.  It's so frustrating to me.  I can only imagine how it feels for those artists.

I hope one day to have an opportunity to tribute The Ramones and let people see these songs and these performances for the beauty and genius they brought to rock and roll.

Until then, we have the catalogue, the DVDs, T-Shirts, the bootlegs and the books...

Thanks Joey, Dee Dee, Johnny, Tommy and Marky for giving everyday of my life a soundtrack.

I miss you.

Here's the whole film for your viewing pleasure.

Fuck art. Let's dance

Being a stay at home dad, you find yourself to be really busy doing chores, housework, running errands and being a chauffeur. 

I mentioned earlier that the saving grace are headphones. 

I spend a lot of time listening to music.  I try to check out new bands, but I swear, a lot of them suck.  There are some standouts, but the majority suck.  I feel like labels and bands have gone to do things like Facebook.  If you don't refresh fast enough, you are forgotten or you move on to the next "big" thing.

That's why I find myself back to the classics or albums I grew up on and making playlists of those songs.

I always loved the labels that created a scene.  Labels that when they put things out, you bought it because there was a trust between you and the label.  There are some that still try that, but I don't trust them as I would others.  Third Man (in theory) would be a modern version of that kind of label, but I feel like I just don't care about a lot of the releases and that it's more about Jack White and what he does than the artists.

When I look back, I think of labels like 2 Tone, Def Jam, Sire, IRS, Sub Pop , Creation even Fat Wreck Chords and Epitaph and Hellcat for a while... These labels were such a trusted brand, fans were proud to wear T Shirts , Jackets and buttons of the LABEL.  The label was as big a star as the artists on it.  I love that.

I recently saw a documentary about one of my favorites Stiff Records.  They were so great for the diversity in what they released.  It didn't have to sound like everything else, sometimes it sucked, but I trusted them.  I saw they tried to recently revive it and it was retarded.

I see a lot of these names getting revived and hope to see them make it work.  It would be nice to go to places for substance and build that trust again.

If I ever get a chance to do something again, it would be to create and build that kind of label.

Here's the Stiff Documentary in pieces...

One Night in Vegas...with Hepcat and some payasos

I had the pleasure of spending one night in Vegas working with one of my favorite bands, Hepcat.  I first heard Hepcat in the early 90's while living in NY.  Their debut album Out of Nowhere came out on Moon Records and was one of those records that just leaves you in awe.

Years later, I would marry the person who had been managing Hepcat for years.  So, by association I became part of that family.

Hepcat went on to record 3 more albums, tour the world and then take a long (of a few) hiatus.  The beauty of a hiatus is that you can really start to miss a group, so when they return, It's special.  Some bands never take the time off and burn themselves out, ruin all they worked for by making bad decisions and just losing that special element.  Bands like Fishbone continuing without the original members that made them Fishbone was a mistake.  I get it.  It's their livelihood, but at who's expense?  The brand?  the audience?  it's such a hard thing to criticize and hard to understand.  Everyone has their own reasons and opinions.

Back to Hepcat and Las Vegas.  After another 2 year hiatus, the band came back to perform at an event called Punk Rock Bowling.  I didn't see any bowling, but I know it was happening.  I did see some punk rock.  Rancid headlined and always deliver, Cockney Rejects performed and were great as well. I heard them the 1st time on the compilation called Oi The Album in 1981.  The songs are still great.

I saw a lot of new punks with their hot topic clothes and their very well manicured hairstyles (and IPhone), I also saw the old punks that really shouldn't look that way anymore, but maybe dust off the old tshirt, old jacket and relive the old days.  I have to say, myself and Hepcat aged the best.  We can all wear the same kind of clothes and not look like "Payasos".

Having a traditional ska and rock steady group in the middle of a bunch of punk bands was a true example of how the scene was back in the good old days.  I don't think the new bands would get it as much today.

The other observation I had was how the hierarchy of punk still exists.  Who gets on stage to watch and where is still such an important status symbol.  I hate to say it, but the best view and sound is still from the floor.  I never understood why everyone was so hell bent of standing behind the drums.  You can't hear shit and you really can't see the show itself.

I was on stage for Hepcat, because I had to be.  Here's some video from where I stood.  oh the sound is awesome (sarcasm)!

I hope to see more Hepcat shows in the future.  These guys are all class.  Thanks for letting me be part of the family.