Legends Never Say Goodbye

As we lost the great musical architect, Mr. Jerry Wexler, last week, a significant chapter in the story of the music industry has closed. This is not to say we merely move on or carry the torch into the future with no regard for the past, rather to acknowledge the visionaries that came before us and respect their wholehearted dedication and admiration for the artist community. Early in his career, as a writer for Billboard in the late 40’s, Jerry Wexler blazed a path for a groundbreaking new genre, one that he referred to as “rhythm and blues.” This new sound not only crossed the racial barriers of this country, it destroyed them in the eyes of the record buying masses.

After teaming up with fellow music aficionados Ahmet Ertegen and his brother Nesui at Atlantic Records, Wexler began what would later be known as a masterful career, propelling talents like Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, and Wilson Pickett to instant stardom. He found another musical/production partner in Arif Mardin, and their teamwork spawned some of the most forward thinking, soulful music this nation has ever heard (the Memphis soul sound for example, the tonality and structure behind Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis record). He treasured soul, and his ear for the music that drove his passion was unparalleled.

Mr. Wexler was a part of a team that loved music, the notes and the artist. They would spend countless hours figuring our how to get the sound “right” or whom to pair their artists with in order to make the records pop. Of course they wanted hits, to argue the opposite would be blissfully ignorant, but those hits formulated as the result of a profound respect and admiration for music. Men like Ahmet Ertegun, Jerry Wexler, and Arif Mardin lived and breathed music. They collected and tirelessly sought new records, they constantly attended shows, and were there to support and develop the artist, not just sign a contract and move on to the next client. Their work is evidence of this great love affair. They were true music men, and the fact that they ran a business, well, that happened by default. Again, not to say they did not intend to make a buck, but the motivation was not the buck, it was the note, that one magical note that would bring a smile to those people huddled around the record player.

The industry that was formed as the result of people like Mr. Wexler has morphed into something unrecognizable. There are few men left, which, at the end of the day, are there for the discovery, for the thrill. Does the art suffer? You bet it does, but that is for another essay. Here we say farewell to these great men, but these great men will never say farewell to us. Their music, their passion, their ear and their dedication will always be with us, humming through the notes that made up their lives.

America, Born?

These United States of America were conquered and colonized. This fact, seemingly simple, yet insidiously profound, may in fact dictate our foreign relations. We are at the core a nation of stolen landscapes and evangelicals. We brought alien diseases and plagues to this continent while attempting to "civilize" a people more deeply connected with their environment and spirituality than their would-be conquerors.
Our federal doctrine of law, while brilliant in theory, is based on a system of beliefs originally alien to this lands original inhabitants. Perhaps this was both the beginning and the end to true freedom. What we have, these many years later, is differing levels of freedom that has been fragmented into classifications of race, religion, and other characteristics.



Continued on 8/14/08:

The written laws are a reflection of the beliefs and values held dear by the authors. How can any such doctrine truly include and consider those whose heritage and lifestyle exist wholly separate and outside of the inherent cultural considerations of the lawmakers? Not to say that our founding fathers had no such right to dictate our laws, for their intentions were grand in scope, and mighty in reaching. We need to believe they had the greatest concern for all citizens, and this is seemingly so, according to the majority of written accounts of those times. However, and this is merely a point of consideration (something to ponder), these laws were written in accordance with the current state of the country. Has our nation not changed, and evolved (some would argue the opposite I realize) drastically since their pens met that sacred paper?

The Greatest Project

My wife and I met a Holocaust survivor; Susy, at our temple in Northern California. She and her husband Bob have been married for 50 years. He was in the army in World War II, and was the first soldier that Susy came into contact with (after surviving one of the longest death marches in Poland). She says she knew, upon making eye contact with him, that they would get married and have a family together.

Her story is almost as amazing as she is. Her radiance is wholly unmatched by ANYBODY I have ever met, at any age, and she is well into her 80’s. When I first got a chance to speak with her after Shabbat services I was so enchanted by her I asked if I could write her story for her family. I told her I was a writer, and that it would be an honor to immortalize her tale for generations of her family to come. She was hesitant but thanked me for the offer. I understood her apprehension. This was a personal story that would transport her back into a time of pure hell. I could not blame her. She did not want to re-live that horror.

A few weeks later her husband Bob approached me, and said they found some old tapes; ¼” analog tapes from 1981 that he and Susy had recorded her stories on. Susy sat down with a few drinks and Bob fired away the questions, as she kept her composure as best she could while telling these horrid tales. He asked me if I could do anything with them and I said of course, that we should do an analog to digital transfer in my studio as soon as possible, as the tapes will be corroding soon. I offered to make CDs with manually tracked ID points, mastering (noise clean up, leveling, etc.) and that Alexandra could do some wonderful artwork. They were excited to say the least. I took the tapes home to begin the process. We were told not to play the tapes for ANYBODY. Only Alexandra and I could listen. We agreed of course, and there I was: In the studio, listening, working, and just letting the magnitude of the story take hold.

That has been an experience beyond words for me. For all the music production work I’ve been involved in, this actually felt like the greatest project for which I had the honor to take on. Though I was merely trying to preserve (and improve – sonically) a story told by somebody else I know, this will live on for years in their family. Their children will be able to hear it long after Susy has left this earth. What a gift to be able to share the experience.

I have been pondering all the ridiculous things I stress about, the silliness that finds me arguing with Alexandra occasionally, and the crap that I consider important. I realize what Susy went through to have a life, and how joyful she is. What right do I have to get down on myself when times get rough? Really, look at what this woman, and MILLIONS of others lived through. I am fortunate to be strong in my faith, and it has brought my own consciousness and marriage to a wholly different level, beyond anything I could have imagined previously.

I do not preach that which serves me to others, but I wish it upon all my friends and family: Embrace your heritage, live it, and remember those who lived before you so that you may have the chance to carry the torch, and keep the flame burning. I am thankful to call her my friend.

"Addicted To Oil" Thomas L. Friedman Reporting - strong thoughts

I recently watched a documentary entitled Addicted To Oil, Thomas L. Friedman Reporting (2006). Admittedly, I am not familiar with Thomas Friedman, but some of the blatant omissions (or challenges) in the supposedly informative film left me wondering about his intentions, and his credibility.

The first issue was with a scene in which Friedman interviews a high level GM executive on the EV-1 project. For those unfamiliar with the story of the EV-1 (stood for Electronic Vehicle 1): GM manufactured a few hundred purely electronic vehicles in the 90's for the state of California. This was a sort of trial period, and even certain celebrities got on board (Mel Gibson for one, who complained about the overly bureaucratic and complex process to purchase an EV-1). The state built a basic infrastructure, with plug-in charging stations at select BART stations. The sales of the vehicle were a success. There was a waiting period as the direct result of too many orders too soon.

Shortly after the release of the vehicles the state of California passed a stringent bill that set new, seemingly unattainable manufacturing standards for GM with regard to emissions and the amount of vehicles to be built. The company decided to pull the plug on the EV-1, despite glowing reviews from owners of the cutting edge cars. Not only did the company pull the plug, but they took back ALL of the working vehicles by refusing to re-up all current leases.

The owners of the EV-1 were so dedicated to the little cars that they protested outside of a lot in which the vehicles were being kept under lock and key for over a YEAR. They watched as the cars were trucked out, and later destroyed by a car crusher deep in the desert.

Well, this executive told Thomas Friedman that the cars were a "commercial flop" and that "nobody wanted to buy them." This was far from the truth, and yet Friedman, a supposedly accredited journalist, merely accepted the answers in stride and the film continued. Now, I'm not an accomplished investigative journalist (not yet) but even I know this guy was bullshitting. Why no challenge from Friedman?

To add insult to injury, the film went on to discuss the values of Hydrogen! We all know of the obvious benefits, but what about the fact that the cost will make gas seem cheap? That is just skimming the top of the hydrogen issue - more on that at a later date.

This is the sort of thing that can turn a "documentary" into propaganda for a large corporation. Now, I am no conspiracy theorist, but the standards seem to have dropped to the point where people no longer question anything. Have we truly become sheeples, as Mike Savage (he's terrific) would call most of us?

Lets get in the big game again. No more idle speech about "change". Lets get into action.

We found this little gem of a sign on our way back from Placerville this weekend. The bait shop hugged a small canal that fed the delta - lots of restaurants and bars on this tiny strip of pavement. There were tons of motorcycles and live music kickin on a Sunday afternoon! We loved that. Luckily, my brother-in-law remembered the sign and we got some shots.

I think this would make for a great showcase on Leno.
More to report on the weekend real soon. We drove quads throughout Happy Valley, on this mountain that has been in my buddies family since 1906 (actually my brother-in-laws dear friend).

Self-Promotion

IF THIS IS YOUR FIRST VISIT TO THE BLOG PLEASE SCROLL PAST THIS RANT BELOW. The writings beneath this piece are a better looking glass into what Living In The Void is truly about.

With in-boxes saturated with useless drivel, it has become increasingly difficult to promote your art. When it comes to close family and friends you can not blame them if they don't read your articles or take the time to give you feedback. They too are inundated with junk, forwarded messages having little to do with their believes, yet some of our peers continue to forward things along without a thought.

This time around however, trying to get my own peers involved in my craft (writing, forthcoming book, poetry) has become almost impossible. I dread to picture the types of things they are spending their time reading, and admittedly, I feel dwarfed by the garbage out there. Perhaps our current political, financial, and global situation is a reflection of these daily futile distractions. We spend our time on gossip pages, social networks (I too am guilty there) and online gaming.

Still: I will not give up. This book will be published, and I will continue to fill in-boxes with my own words. It is ultimately up to the recipient whether they want to read the prose of a good friend, or the musings of a multi-millionaire gossip whore.

We may find ourselves truly blessed with great friendships and humble mentors during the zig zaggy course of our lives. I have been fortunate in having experienced both. That same blessing, my mentor, past away. The news paralyzed me. The services commemorating his life were in New York City and then Istanbul. Unfortunately I was unable to attend, and that hurt more than anything. I do however, cherish the fact that we managed to form an honest friendship in the months before he past on. When I worked for him (Arif Mardin, when I worked at Atlantic Records) I could barely build up the nerve to truly engage him in real conversation. Talk about life, the real stuff, and he liked to do that.

We were always so busy that we never got the chance then, yet this man found the time to help me during some heavy storms. He is a legend to readers of Rolling Stone or fans of Aretha Franklin and Norah Jones. But he was the best friend to me. I know I wasn't one if his closest friends, though I know he cared for me greatly. We were divided by so many years in age, and hey, he had alot of people to love and take care of! I'm saddened he wasn't there to help us through the perils of last year. But, then I thought, he was. Honestly, when things got so bad I wanted to end it I thought of him, and how he believed in my talents, and how he loved to read my stupid poems and music reviews. Then I looked at my beloved wife, and I knew I had something to offer.

We all need humility and care of that mans level.



Michael
-there's a rant bout our Independence below. I wrote it on the fourth.