Nuts or Not, Just Call Me Mack!

I have always believed that I was likely a reincarnated songwriter from another era. That's the only way I can explain lyrics like, 

"The leaves on a willow

They don't want to be sad

The tears on my pill-ow sure don't want to be had

The day in a leap year

Just where does it go?

That's where you will find me

If you can't take it slow"

I don't know where they come from or why I even thought of them. They're nothing like my pop writing style.

Last night I decided to finally investigate this theory and do an internet search on songwriters that had died in the year I was born -1959.  Then I figured that if I were to truly make a correlation, the songwriter would  have to have died when I was conceived, which would have been in March.  After several frustrating attempts I came up empty handed, almost settling for Buddy Holly. Buddy died in February and while it was near March, I realized that I'm as close to Rock and Roll as Newt is to the Oval Office! It was a nice thought.  I let it go. It was actually starting to creep me out anyhow.

Then, as  I was reading the bio of the great Etta James, it had mentioned that her most notable recording, "At Last," was penned by a songwriter named Mack Gordon.  I looked him up and that's when the creeps started really creepin! Mack Gordon died in March of 1959. He was very successful with numerous Academy Award nominations and even a win for "You'll Never Know." Funny thing, as a songwriter I have always felt that if I were to ever be recognized for my writing, it would be an Oscar over a Grammy (thanks MLK, I too have a dream)! I also found out that Mack was born in Poland and he was raised in NYC (which is also where he died). A Jewish songwriter raised in New York City...there's something new! NOT! Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm more Jewish than Catholic and that my favorite place on the planet (of course) is New York City.  It gets better.

Over the past few years, I have been writing with a really talented composer by the name of Kenny Werner. Kenny is truly a master of his craft.  The songs we have written together have been primarily big band and 1940's style ballads. I have no idea how or why I write these songs, as they are so very different from the pop-style of writing I have written for years. If one were to compare the songs I've written with Kenny to those written by Mack Gordon, you  probably wouldn't be able to decipher which songs Mack wrote, or which ones I wrote!  Additionally, after perusing Mack's lengthy catalog, there are a couple of songs with French references (there were no Polish or Spanish or Hungarian or any others) like, "Spring in Paris," and "Mam'selle."  Just two weeks ago, I wrote lyrics to one of Kenny's compositions and ironically enough, I called it, "Mon Chéri!" I have no clue why I wrote that lyric, as I've never written a song with a French reference in it before. 

I imagine that as you get older, you slowly find the missing pieces to the puzzle of your life (or in my case, someone elses life), and it all starts to make a little sense.  I couldn't help but think back to that incredible night, circa 1989, when I had dinner with Sammy Cahn at a mutual friends home in Hancock Park. There we sat, side by side at the perfectly polished black grand piano, me on the left...Sammy on the right. I was out of my wheelchair and on the bench with him. For a good hour we went back and forth with each others songs. I would play one of mine, and the legend that was Sammy Cahn, would respond with one of his. It's one of those Hollywood Moments that dreams are made of. I felt so connected to Sammy...in a way that was more like comrades as opposed to two songwriters from completely different generations and styles. I had already begun writing those old standard style songs when I played Sammy my song, "I'm Counting on You Counting on Me." He loved it, and countered with, "Half Past April, and a Quarter to May" - a song I remembered from my childhood. It was from the movie, "Jack and the Beanstalk" with Gene Kelly. I can feel the goosebumps now, as I did then...and as I ponder this whole scenario, it really does all makes perfect sense. Whether I am or not, the reincarnation of Mack Gordon makes no difference.  The only difference that matters is the one I make while I'm here.  Hopefully I'll be able to complete the mission I'm on in this lifetime rather than in the future when some Joe Shmoe (see I told you I was more Jewish than Catholic) discovers me during their "google search"!   

Nuts or not, for now I guess you can just call me Mack! 

A Well Dressed Elephant In The Room

by Alison Hay

I’ve just read yet another of many articles on how the pressure of the fashion industry will have contributed to the downfall of John Galliano.

While it is indisputable that heading a company that scores billions a year carries a huge amount of pressure, and that onus is typically all upon the shoulders of one person who is a creative being at heart, it’s not the whole story.

True that fashion is a rarefied field that not only encourages, but also exalts Diva behaviour as ‘genius’. Couture is the frontispiece for a brand, that few can afford, but its job is to garner publicity, advertising a lifestyle and image for the real cash cows, the perfumes and sunglasses within reach of the lowliest who want to buy into the glamour they see in the newspapers, to own a bit of Dior, or Burberry, whatever it is. Therefore, the head of couture must do what he sees fit to grab that over saturated market share of attention. This week saw a man dressed as a shrub on the catwalks.

Galliano had his track record of doing so; employing male strippers who lap danced his collection on the most well clad laps in the land, dressing models in faux homeless looks in shredded newsprint and dangling pots and pans – his prize was protesters outside Dior headquarters and more, more publicity. It was his job to shock. He did it within the box that he was urged to flourish in.

I’ve just seen a collection of the new season of advertising campaigns for the largest fashion houses; Prada, Burberry, D&G, Versace…the photographs produced are the work of an extremely select cartel of photographers – mainly Testino and Meisel. They are the usual rounds of sullen, emaciated teenagers representing the rest of the world, in so-what clothes of mind jarring colour combinations set against a vaguely interesting backdrop and I remember thinking, all that budget and that’s the best they can do? Atmospherically lit and with poses just odd enough to catch the eye for 1.2 seconds but for the best in the photography world to come up with such uniformly predictable fare surprised me a little. It seemed as if they had been set some fairly safe parameters. I’m not asking to be shocked – most of us are beyond that these days with such a barrage of media at our fingertips, just creatively engaged a tiny bit, but these are multi-national brands that manicure and closely protect their images, obliged to project an other-worldliness drenched in expense, but not so far out of touch with the matrons of Beverly Hills and Fifth Avenue that they couldn’t achieve it themselves given the same resources.

Anyway, so there is the very fine line – stay in the boundaries but jar just enough to get an edge and a head start over everything else out there. This is the Golden Rule.

In addition to this careful cultivation of attention grabbing is the fashion world itself.
For a little while, I had a bird’s eye view of the melee that surrounds the granddaddy of them all, Paris Fashion Week and was privy to front row seats and backstage backbiting. Actually, anyone can be if they have ever seen Isaac Mizrahi’s ‘Unzipped’ or any number of documentaries on subjects such as Valentino, Lagerfeld and Vogue chronicling this mad world.  People will go to desperate lengths to be seen, to clutch a part of this perceived magic. In the eye of the hurricane is the designer himself, treated like a God, revered, adored, with every word uttered immortalized and feted. It really is as ridiculous as you could possibly imagine and as true as any spoof has portrayed in a light of messianic megalomania catered to by an army of sycophants. Anyone who survives more than a few years in this unreality surely has to have such an altered perception of the real world that they couldn’t hope to be back in it and survive.

Let’s say you get up on a Monday morning and shamble in to work and announce to your minions, who breathlessly await the next pearl to drop from your lips, “Today is all about tea leaves," after which you have a little lie down on a silk brocade chaise formerly belonging to Louis the something while brought your own designer label champagne and your phalanx of assistants, after chorusing, Yes! Yes! He is Genius! scurry off to bring you designs based on the leaf itself, the texture of the veins on a leaf, garments made from actual leaves, fabrics dyed in the world’s rarest tea and a collection based on the loosely wound rags of people who pick tea for a living in the mountains of India which will retail for around the same price as it would take to house and feed the tea workers of India for a decade. You must be a God. And Gods are not required to behave as mortals or be troubled by the opinions of peasants who are certainly not dirt beneath their feet as what is beneath their feet are rose petals from buds specially selected in the regions of Grasse from blooms named after themselves, in delicately cultivated shades that match the £5000 a metre, hand embroidered, dip dyed curtains in their bedrooms.

This is not good for a person.

The elephant in the room, as far as Galliano is concerned, is his homosexuality. No one dares address it but I think it is the key to his current troubles. While it is hardly out of the ordinary for a Couturier to be gay, getting to the top of this coveted field often takes decades of increments by inches until one is entrusted with the reins of a precious brand, that steamroller of money and industry that is cosseted and protected. Many of Galliano’s contemporaries have been at it for a long time; Lagerfeld, Valentino, Armani, Mugler and the late Saint Laurent. They came from a different generation, one whose social mores had discretion about sexuality even in such an open and acceptingly rewarding industry. They are mindful of the myth and controlling of their image in obsessive ways that border on psychopathic compulsion.

Valentino clearly feels that even his yacht owning has to speak of the lifestyle he projects as his brand. Lagerfeld has such a conceit for perfection that he is never seen without his enormous sunglasses, collars so high they look as if they are about to strangle him for hiding his aging crepe neck and incongruous driving gloves to conceal his liver-spotted old claws.  Newsflash, Karl; we suspect you are old and wrinkly. Put something comfortable on.

Galliano, in contrast, had a relatively meteoric rise to grandeur, going from sleeping on park benches to being found backers by Anna Wintour and launching his first collection in a matter of months. He was the latest Enfant Terrible and like McQueen, untrained to withstand what it takes to BE the brand when taken on by Givenchy and then Dior.

But Galliano did not do his growing up as a tailor’s apprentice or work his way through one of the great Houses. He did his growing up in the London club scene. As any of you know who have been a part of this milieu, London queens are about as tough as it gets. When it comes to being bitchy, one has to be more than just on one’s toes to get the best of them verbally, and it becomes a way of life, a way of thinking. The put down and the insult have no boundaries as long as your target is crushed and your audience is appeased. Born out of insecurity, of which Galliano had a great deal having been mercilessly bullied at school, it becomes a weapon and way to fight back, a club to finally belong to when you have spent a difficult  lifetime defending who you are. Then it becomes a habit that you are lauded for, the verbal whiplash that you are so practised at that you gain your own notoriety and coterie of acolytes.

Often it is said that Galliano couldn’t possibly be anti-Semitic, being of Jewish and Gypsy descent himself and that is a reasonable assumption, as too is the notion that a gay man would be abhorrent at Hitler, being undoubtedly aware that Hitler treated homosexuals with no more reverence than the millions of Jews he ordered to be gassed.

This is beside the point.

A good example of irreverence towards heritage would be a London socialite at the top of the tree who, when a launch invitation came through the post with instruction to ‘dress provocatively’ came accompanied by two Nazi Bikers – and he was Jewish. He did it knowing he was untouchable morally, being famously Jewish himself and because it caused the hoped for stir. Notwithstanding that the English have a history of thumbing noses at being politically correct, as Galliano would be familiar with and have used many times to his own and his brand’s advantage, the subject matter was unimportant – the shock was all that mattered, as a device for getting attention and remaining among the elite who refuse to follow convention and carve a career and a fortune out of doing so.

Galliano was merely looking for the easiest root to shock and insult. To a man used to years of being offensive in the name of sport, which is frequently dressed as wit in gay circles, it was just a short cut to belittling someone he regarded as unworthy of his ideals and lifestyle. He was the product of a habit and most of his life had been applauded for being as scathing as possible.

His error in judgement, which was clearly clouded by rampant addiction, was visiting that mindset upon someone who was not cowed by his glory or desperate to be included in the world of Couture and now he is paying a hefty price for that, snubbed by the industry that encouraged him to be a God and shock for a living but, you know, only a little bit.

SOLD-OUT - The Real Cost of a Concert Ticket

So I'm out to dinner with a concert promoter.  He can't understand the adversarial relationship between promoters and acts.  According to him, the promoter is the band's BEST FRIEND!

Think about it.  Who else is going to invest so much money in the band's career?


That's what we've come to.  The labels are bankrupt, if not financially, artistically.  The acts they build can't sell tickets and they don't want to invest much.  Let's make it simple.  If you make Top Forty music, the label will put money into you, but fans won't come see you live, because they don't believe you're real, they know your record was made by committee, the same people who make all the other Top Forty hits.

No, fans want to see credible acts.

And the only people paying these acts is the promoter.

Classic acts can't sell a record.  So the promoter is their only source of revenue.

Most new acts can't sell tracks because they're not exposed on radio or TV, they depend on the promoter's bucks.

So why is there such an adversarial relationship between acts and promoters?  Why is the person paying treated with so little respect?

The act is paid a guarantee, oftentimes exorbitant, and dictates ticket price.  The promoter knows you can't charge $49.50 plus surcharges for a lawn ticket, but in order to meet the act's demands, that's what you end up with.  And the customer says no and the act won't help the promoter sell tickets by dropping the price.  This is a business?

Actually, it's fascinating looking at the landscape.

There's the occasional instant superstar, like Lady GaGa.  But most of the instant arena acts don't last.  If you think Justin Bieber will continue to sell tickets, then you've never heard of the Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus.

And it's so hard for acts to develop.

Maybe, just maybe, the concert promoter is about to become king.

Last year was instructional, sure, Live Nation's income took a hit, but so did Sarah McLachlan's credibility.  Play to empty seats and suddenly no one wants to see you again.  Like my buddy Don Fox says, let the acts play to empty seats, that'll revolutionize this business.  You'd be surprised who doesn't sell out, despite the ads trumpeting the unavailability of tickets.

He with the money ultimately wins.  When are concert promoters going to realize this?  When are they going to learn to say no instead of yes?  Robert Sillerman rolled up the old promoters into SFX fifteen years ago.  Isn't it time to stop overpaying to keep the ball rolling?

Sure, Live Nation's stock would nosedive if they started saying no, but that's the best way to realign this business.  This promoter talking to me tonight used the NHL as an example.  The league shut the doors, they just couldn't make money with the financial system in place.  The players said they could construct their own circuit.  But they couldn't.  They could play in Europe for less and they ultimately came back to the bargaining table with a realistic concept of what they were worth.

We need to do the same in the concert industry.  Promoters need to stop paying so much to make so little money.

And promoters must be able to promote.

This promoter tonight talked about making a guarantee.  TO THE CUSTOMER!  If you don't like the show, you can leave before the third song and get all your money back.  At these prices, we've got to give people insurance.

And we've got to lower the prices.  Because who can afford them?  You can go to one show a year.  And that's not healthy for our business.  Suddenly, concert attendance is like going on vacation, a once a year event.

We don't want concert promotion to go the way of recorded music.  Somehow the labels didn't realize that it was best to get everybody paying a little for a lot, especially when they participate in 360 degrees of revenue.  Allow people to check out new bands and they might go to a show, and buy a t-shirt.

Actually, that's what's truly happening now.  Word on the new acts is spread online.  You can hear their music for free on YouTube.  Tickets are cheap.  You go because you want to be part of the collective, you want to be first.  This is the way the business used to be, before grosses were trumpeted in newspapers and greed killed the paradigm.

You've got to set the promoter free.  He's got to be your friend.

Why should an act trust Doug Morris or Jimmy Iovine or Lyor Cohen yet abhor Michael Rapino and Randy Phillips?  Michael and Randy are paying the acts more money, and will continue to do so long after their record contracts have expired.  And good luck getting those record royalties you're due.

Bill Graham promoted shows.  And people came to his concerts because he was promoting them.  That's the power of a great promoter.

It just can't be a banking deal.  Because acts are relying on the promoter to sell tickets.  Without radio or TV, who else can do the job?

-Bob Lefsetz

THS Footnote: When Ticketmaster and Live Nation merged last year, there was much hope that seeing a concert by your favorite act wouldn’t cost you a few days work anymore. But as Emily Dickenson wrote, "Hope is the thing with feathers" ...although I don't think the metaphor was meant "to fly away"!

2010 Most Expensive Concert Tickets

U2 $250 

Roger Waters $250 

Eagles $250 

Neil Young $250 

Jimmy Buffet $128 

Tom Petty $105 

Crosby, Stills, Nash $99 

Rush $97 

Robert Plant $95 

Dave Matthews $75 

Heart $75 

ZZ Top $69 

Steve Miller $69 

Lynyrd Skynyrd $64

GaGa's Got It!

Lady Gaga. Now that's a rock star.

A rock star is not someone with money who flies in a private jet. That's a banker.
A rock star is someone who speaks from the heart and puts her fans first.  Who won't do anything for a buck.  Who uses her bully pulpit to highlight injustices and lobby for change.

Come on, in an era where everybody is greedy and handlers tell you that you can't make it without tying up with corporations GaGa leaves money on the table?

In order to succeed in this business, for more than a few moments, you've got to stand for something more than money.  Or else you're seen as a chump in the endless parade we laugh at.

Oh, we're laughing.  Don't you read TMZ?  That's the Internet era.  We make fun of the famous, they need attention, they were the drama queens in high school who didn't get the acclaim they deserved.  And too often are of limited talent.  Meanwhile, the faceless fat cats behind them laugh all the way to the bank.  The execs keep their jobs, curating the endless parade of wannabes.

Wanna know why classic rock is classic?  Because in that era rock stars were leaders.  You listened to them if you wanted to know what time it was.  And they were beholden to no one but themselves, not even the label.  They had contracts wherein they could record the music themselves at a location picked by them with a producer of their choice and deliver an album that the label was required to release.  Those were the good old days.  Before the execs started believing they were the talent.

Sure, GaGa is on Jimmy Iovine's label, but when was the last time Jimmy took a stand for anything but money?  Good business breaking Beats headphones but is that what the world really needed now?  No, the world needs leaders, and Jimmy is championing wannabes on "American Idol".  That's heading in the wrong direction.

Who is going to hold Wall Street and the corporations responsible?

THE ARTISTS!

They're the ones with the power.  Which they've abdicated in this decade where you can do it all yourself and all they can do is complain that they're not making enough money.

This is not the first time GaGa has taken a stand.  She also voiced her opinion against the "Don't ask, don't tell." policy.  And lo and behold, it was eviscerated.

It's not about results today, it's about results eventually.

But everybody wants their money today.

It's not about that Target exclusive today, it's about your CAREER!

That's how you truly make money in this business.  When you're no longer signed to a label, when radio isn't interested and you're supported by fans.  Who keep you alive on the road, who buy your new music.

GaGa knows who her fans is.  She's been playing to her Little Monsters since Day One.

Maybe because she's so much like them.  Not classically beautiful, struggling.  She didn't forget where she came from.  And they love her for it.

You want to make it?  Stop complaining you can't get paid.  Stop complaining how hard it is to make it.  GaGa got dropped from a previous label.  She struggled.  It all wasn't peaches and cream.

Meanwhile, now that GaGa's paved the way, can't some of the other artists out there take a stand?  You think you're alienating people but what you're really doing is bonding your core to you, and we all know it's about the core.  Stand for something or you don't stand for anything.  Pick your issues.  And know that you've got power.  And it's your turn to lead.

Bob Lefsetz

Notes

By Bob Lefsetz

I want you to watch this, you'll learn more about the music industry than you will in four years of college. You'll see why Jimmy Iovine wins.

JIMMY'S VIDEO


He's smart.

And he's a motherfucker.
What did John Hummer so famously say? "Before they close Napster they'll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers." Well even though he played in the NBA, Hummer couldn't win in this street game. You don't fuck with the music industry. They're not gonna give up with a fight. It's not about the music, it's about the MONEY!

Jimmy rewrites a bit of history here, but what he exudes more than anything is confidence. And if you're an artist, if you want someone to fight for you, you want the most confident guy on the block. Jimmy's confidence and track record ensure that he continues to win. Will he continue to win in the recorded music realm?

I believe he's been in it so long that he doesn't know what he doesn't know. All these guys who grew up in the pre-Napster era think big, too big. It's about marshaling money to open lanes and drive music into the heart of America. But so many Americans are no longer listening. The days of the country being glued to MTV are done. Now everybody is living in their own niche.

Not everybody...

Jimmy's got experience and rights on his side. Rights ensured that he beat Hummer. But so busy teaching everybody a lesson, the music industry lost touch with its audience. It's now about trust and honesty. And if you ask me, Beats headphones don't sound that good. I'd go for Sennheisers any day.

But Sennheiser thinks quality is enough. Give Jimmy credit, he created a whole new genre, upscale headphones when the market for such was moribund.

That's the power of music, that's the power of Dr. Dre.

Listen to Jimmy tell the tale of breaking Lady GaGa. When he talks about beats you realize he knows a thing or two about music.

But he's old school. Old school is about using leverage to convince. Bending rules.

New school is about leading with quality and building behind that, however slow it might go.

Whereas Jimmy wants it fast.

Now it sounds like I'm decrying Jimmy, giving him shit.

But that's not my intention. I just want to paint the other side. Because watching this video Jimmy Iovine scared me. He did not tone down his personality for public consumption, this is the real guy, mess with him at your peril.

(Meanwhile, the video may be a year old, but in the new era everything lives on online, just waiting to be discovered. Watch to the end where Jimmy talks about the industry giving advantages. New services are not going to succeed on their merits, the music industry, the old rights holders, are going to decide who to enable. And they're gonna go too slow and they're gonna get it wrong more than right and they're gonna charge too much money but to say that Jimmy's got no idea what's going on in the modern tech world would be wrong.)

P.S. The volume on this video is low, don't let that deter you from cranking it up and listening.

THE TIRE IRON AND THE TAMALE

This is SO good, I want you to stop what you're doing right now and read it.

It's all about people, not money. Would Jimmy Iovine stop and help the disadvantaged if there was nothing in it for him? I doubt it. But I don't want to single Jimmy out, too many of today's winners are so busy winning, they can't stop and help those who are losing.

And sometimes it's just not your fault. You get sick. You have an accident. Then you learn who your friends really are.

I've got no statistics. But I will tell you I've always found those with less are the ones you can count on most. Sure, rich people can throw down their money, and that's great, but society is based on humanity. Can you really reach down and help your brother?

This is an amazing piece of writing. Irrelevant of where you stand on immigration, read it.

More Banter from Bob...

The Oscars

By Bob Lefsetz


Where's Steve Stoute when you need him?

So they hire Anne Hathaway and James Franco to appeal to the younger demo but end up with a traditional show that youngsters don't care about. No wonder the Oscar telecast is in trouble.

To a youngster a movie is "Iron Man 2". A roller coaster ride outside the home where you can make nerdy jokes with your buddies or feel up your girlfriend. The concept of film as art is completely unknown to this demo, because producers have pandered to them for so many years. Where are the flicks detailing teen angst? Abortion... Oh right, that's a no-no. Or unrequited love? Instead we get lowest common denominator tripe and that which is so broad it can play around the world, with subtitles in not only Hebrew and Arabic, but Swahili and Tongan. And even the most casual fan of art knows that if you try to appeal to everybody, you end up appealing to almost nobody.

In other words, the best moving pictures are on television, where it's all about the story and special effects take a back seat. There are fewer prima donnas and with lower costs and more production there are more risks. This bodes poorly for theatrically distributed movies. Even Harvey Weinstein realizes the jig is up, he's now producing for television.

And would "Social Network" have won if Harvey had produced it? Or even the aforementioned "Iron Man 2"? Insiders don't believe the best film wins, but the best promoted. And outsiders just don't care.

In other words, the Oscars are no longer mainstream.

They retooled the Grammy show. They got rid of the classical and made it all about pop performances, what the people want to see. But the awards themselves are still confusing. If Justin Bieber and Eminem are such stars, how come they don't win?

I'm not saying they deserve to win. But the interesting point is the public's perception.

In music, youngsters believe most music is overproduced commercial crap. But with distribution barriers so low, there's a burgeoning indie scene. Mumford & Sons not only gets on the Grammy telecast, they have one of the best-selling albums in the country. Whereas most people haven't seen "The King's Speech" and still won't. That's a circle jerk for elitists, it's got nothing to do with me.

Then there are the Golden Globes... At least they know how to throw a party. That's why people tune in. The awards are a joke, with only a handful of hangers-on voting. But you get to see the real performers, as opposed the gussied/trussed up automatons walking the red carpet. If people want to see clothes, they'll tune in to Kim Kardashian. Hell, her clan outgrossed so many of tonight's winners.

And then there are the MTV Movie Awards. They realize it's a joke. That film is all about hype and cross-promotion and prestige is for pussies. They give the people what they want, not by pandering to them, but acknowledging that they're in on the game. What exactly is the Hollywood game again?

Oh, it'll be on the front page tomorrow. Assuming the ancient newspapers have not gone to bed before the winners have been announced. Once upon a time, baseball was the national pastime. Now it's football. Why? Because baseball got ever slower and forgot about the children, playing the World Series at night. The movie business is now baseball, there's still a lot of money to be made, but it's a sideshow as opposed to the main event.

Anne Hathaway made the most with thin material. James Franco was two-dimensional. Billy Crystal's brief turn showed us that a real host realizes it's about entertainment, being warm and connecting with the audience. Is there anybody out there who doesn't think if Billy came to dinner they could ease right into conversation? What would you say to Mr. Franco?

And Sandra Bullock. Everybody in creation knows about her marital mistake yet the writers have Anne Hathaway say she's a beacon pointing the way? Huh? Talk about laughable moments.

And Francis Ford Coppola makes the biggest and bestest movie of the modern era, sorry James Cameron and Steven Spielberg, but he doesn't even get a chance to talk on camera? We could learn something from a guy who made "The Godfather", which still plays seemingly every day and is part of the national fabric, which "King's Speech" will never be.

And "The Social Network" couldn't be more now. But kids didn't go to see it. Because they haven't been trained to see this kind of picture, one that challenges them, one that makes them think. And the problem is not the kids, but the industry. Just like a music industry that purveys beat-infused crap and wonders where the audience went.

The music business has been decimated by technology and is now being rebuilt by passionate people who don't put the bottom line first. Next came the news business. Now comes the movie industry.

It's out of touch. It wants to be lowest common denominator and high brow at the same time. It talks out of both sides of its mouth. And as a result, no one takes it seriously anymore.

Oh, senior citizens still go, like lemmings to the mall in "Dawn Of The Dead". But fewer baby boomers are addicted, because they remember 1969, with "Easy Rider", "Midnight Cowboy" and "Alice's Restaurant", and just won't go to see crap.

Yes, the kids will see crap. But if there was a way to have the same experience at home, without prying parents, they'd give up the overpriced cinema in a minute.

You think the public is not smart? Then why are they abandoning 3-D at such a speedy rate?

You can never lose betting on quality. Especially today, when people know something is good instantly via modern communication techniques. And this year's winners were all good, it's just they were not in pictures that appealed to the younger generation.

Just like hit music is no longer something you live or die for, but something you bump asses to in a club, movies are disposable. And we suffer for it. Because when something is truly great, it's transcendent.

And never believe you can't be mainstream and great. Look at those Michael Jackson albums, "Off The Wall" and "Thriller".

But Michael could sing and Quincy could produce and they used the best players available after sifting through a ton of numbers to get the right material.

You can do it. You can create great mainstream art. But it's hard. And failures are usually complete. You either make history or are forgotten.

The Oscars have lost touch.

And if Harvey Weinstein is proud and laughing right now I'm crying and disgusted. I remember being addicted to the movies. Not only going every weekend, but every night! That was the thrill of living in L.A., the sheer plethora of films to see!

And the artists shooting for the stars. Speaking to me.

Now they shoot for the gutter and they don't care about me.

Oh, sometimes they do.

But infrequently.

I'm looking for that amazing visceral experience. And now more than ever it comes online from a younger generation putting excellence in front of remuneration, unlike their parents.

Yes, tonight's telecast was your father's Oscar show. Why would you want to watch that?

Finding the Hole

 

By Bob Lefsetz

Lou Pearlman saw a structural hole in the music business. He foresaw a desire for cute, young boys singing melodic songs, dancing all the while.

Was anybody producing anything similar? Was melodic music dominating the charts?

No, as the nineties wore on, beats were the key. Rap was king. If you wanted to compete in the music business, you went into the rap business, after all, that's what radio wanted. And if you listen to anybody established in the business, you don't pour money into something radio doesn't want.

And U.S. radio didn't want the Backstreet Boys. What traction they got was overseas, singing the songs of foreign producers and writers. It was costing Lou Pearlman money.

Then suddenly, boy bands blew up. And Lou Pearlman made a fortune.


This was before Internet downloading. CDs were expensive. But the company kept the lion's share of the money, and you could sign wannabes for next to nothing. Good-looking boys with good voices were a dime a dozen.

In other words, how risky was Lou Pearlman's venture?

If you listen to anybody in the business today, they still say the same thing. That everything starts with radio. Sure, it costs you money, but radio reaches many people quickly. And it requires beats, that's the Top Forty radio sound, so you should make dance-oriented, bottom-heavy music.

But few of these beat-oriented acts do good road business. And the savviest know that most of today's revenue comes from the road. So, you should focus on what puts people in seats.

Jam band aficionados will tell you it's all about the players. Get some long-haired twentysomethings who can noodle and the college audience will find them, it's a sure thing. But there are two problems... One, the field is already populated with a throng of acts. Two, despite being established for forty years, most people aren't interested in jam band music. This doesn't mean that you can't make good dough improvising to a rock beat, it's just that it's not easy to break through the clutter, and it's almost impossible to become ubiquitous.

But there is a hole in the business today. Interestingly, it's analogous to the one Lou Pearlman saw a decade and a half ago. People want melodies, songs they can sing along with.

That's what separated the Backstreet Boys from New Kids On The Block. The material was good.

But as soon as Justin Timberlake grew up and went solo, he started making beat-driven music. Britney too. Why? Because the acts wanted to shed their adolescence, because they wanted to be hip, they wanted to be where everybody else was.

But if you make that music, you're dependent on hits. As big a star as Justin Timberlake is, he won't do much road business if he doesn't continue to release hits. Just talk to Mariah Carey. With hits, people want to see her, without them, not so much.

So what if we get together a group of good-looking people (that always helps.) And we have them sing melodic tunes. Even better, what if they write this material themselves, giving the act substance, allowing adulation to be more than skin deep?

Then we've got the Beatles. Yup, that was the formula.

And the Beatles sounded like nothing on the radio. But soon, the sound that dominated the radio before them disappeared.

Please read Malcolm Gladwell's article "The Sure Thing" in this week's "New Yorker" (January 18, 2010). In it, he debunks the myth of entrepreneurship. Entrepreneurs are not big risk-takers, they're very conservative, but they exploit the structural holes to achieve success.

Gladwell references a book by two French authors, "From Predators To Icons: Exposing the Myth of the Business Hero".

I first encountered this book in a "BusinessWeek" review (http://www.businessweek.com/magazine/content/09_52/b4161107212914.htm)

This is the key element:

"Captains of industry get ahead not by means of productive risk-taking and innovation, Villette and Vuillermot argue, but by 'predation': ruthless exploitation of market imperfections and rivals. The distinction between 'good bosses' and 'crooked bosses' is a fiction perpetrated by corporate propagandists. 'The businessman spends his time getting around the laws and ordinary conceptions of morality.'"

I know a lot of rich people. They didn't accumulate their wealth by being nice.

Oh, there are exceptions, artists in particular. But show me a man with a hundred million bucks, and I'll show you a scumbag. At least someone who bends the rules, someone whose actions would horrify the hoi polloi.

You don't get rich by accident. But we don't want to scratch the surface too deeply, because we can't handle the truth. Those we revere...if you knew the details, you'd love them no more.

So, having a eureka moment, thinking I'd finally found a book that stated what I believed, I continued reading the review. Which trashed the book. Because, after all, aren't CEOs heroes? Aren't they entitled to that incredible compensation?

Yes, according to "BusinessWeek". The opposite would be too much to swallow. Like finding out Milli Vanilli didn't play on their records. Or Jimmy Page played lead guitar on many British Invasion hits.

But Gladwell is on the same team as the French. He thinks they've got it right. That American CEOs are overpaid to take risks which rarely pan out. You'd be better off investing with the well-financed entrepreneur, who is much more conservative.

Explain Warner Music's investments in Bulldog and LaLa to me. Both disasters. The first predicated on an unproven theory, that the wealthy will overpay to be one of a thousand up close and personal...hell, isn't a thousand too many to be up close and personal? The latter on the fact that people not in the music business can figure out an online distribution platform, even though they've got no experience. Both were losing propositions.

Contrast that with Spotify.

Spotify sees a looming disaster. The day that CD sales fall through the floor and the labels are looking for alternative revenue. By raising a boatload of cash, and furthermore signing the labels on as partners, Spotify can hold on, until its time comes.

That's what John Paulson did. The hedge-fund manager who made four billion dollars in 2007, betting against mortgages. He made more billions in 2008. Everybody said houses only increase in value. But Paulson's research said otherwise.

Every day I get e-mail from people saying they've solved the music industry's online distribution problem. I laugh. They've got no money and no rights, and without both, you've got nothing.

Look at it this way. Rykodisc was successful because it had CD manufacturing capabilities when almost no one did. They released atmospheric CDs, almost anything with sound sold in the CD boom of the mid-eighties.

Razor & Tie. Kidz Bop was and still is a license to print money. Get regular kids, not pros, to sing the hits of the day... Production costs, almost zilch. Market via TV and you've got a juggernaut.

Isn't it interesting that both of these companies were independents (and in the case of Razor & Tie, still is).

If you talk to the owners of Razor & Tie, you'll see that they're risk-averse. They won't pay more, they'll pay less. They realize they're giving you an opportunity. But they specialize in creating their own opportunities.

Everybody is watching the major labels. Why? Their success was built on controlling the distribution pipeline, but that monopoly's been broken. As for banking on radio, "bank" is the appropriate word. They spend a fortune for very little in return.

As for competing with Front Line?

Irving doesn't want to pay for developing acts, he wants established acts. Meaning the new music field is almost completely open to entrepreneurs. Irving will claim otherwise, but find anybody over thirty in this business and first they look at the purse, they want to see how much money they can make quickly. Hell, this is how the major labels got into trouble, by focusing on today, not tomorrow.

AEG competes with Live Nation by paying a fortune for guaranteed sellers. Phil Anschutz has got a deep pocket and he doesn't have the struggling real estate and clubs of Live Nation. AEG found a hole and is riding to success right through it.

There are a lot of holes in the music business. A hole is something you see that the mainstream does not. If you want respect, if you want instant accolades, entrepreneurship is not the right road. You're betting against the mainstream. But the mainstream is so calcified in the music world that the landscape is ripe for innovation.

Michael Rapino says his club business stinks. But maybe you can figure out a way to grow the club business, and leverage that.

But your best avenue is to come up with hit music. It's the cheapest way. And hooky, melodic songs sung by people with good voices never go out of style. That's the huge hole in the music business today. Exploit it.


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