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A couple of years ago, two buddies at Harbin insisted that I read “The Poet” by Michael Connelly. I was soon hooked; Connelly is a terrific writer. I spent that winter devouring most of his books, especially the entire Harry Bosch series. Harry is an L.A. police detective. If you’ve lived there, as I did for 30 years, you may know every location Connelly describes in his stories. The first one, “The Black Echo”, starts in a drainage pipe at Mulholland Dam, at the Lake Hollywood reservoir. I used to rent a pretty cool house right there; I could bike a few hundred yards from my driveway in Deep Dell up to the ⅓-mile path around the lake. Often Harry would go to Musso & Frank’s, my regular hangout in Hollywood four times a week. And his house was on Woodrow Wilson Drive in the Hollywood Hills, across the Cahuenga Pass from Universal Studios. The stories themselves are perfect representatives of the genre. Connelly is our Raymond Chandler; If we were in the ‘40’s, classic movies would be made from these books. I haven’t seen “Bosch”, which is a streaming Amazon series now, because of my remote current location in an area not yet civilized. I learned that the fun of the mystery is in trying to out-guess the protagonist. Who did it? What’s cool is that there’s always a second (or even third!) revelation in store.
Then it was on to Lee Childs’ ridiculously popular Jack Reacher series. I was already a huge fan of Lincoln Childs (no relation), who co-authors the genius Pendergast series with the equally excellent Douglas Preston, and was curious how two writers with such similar names could co-exist on the best-seller lists. The answer was easy: they write in very different styles, and their characters are very different. Whereas A.E. Pendergast is a wealthy sophisticate (unusual for an FBI agent!), Jack Reacher is a badass on the road, traveling with only an ATM card and a toothbrush. He’s an ex-Army M.P. major who’s become a wandering adventurer. He’s 6’5”, 245 lbs of street-fight toughened muscle. Why anyone would mess with him is hard to fathom, but he manages to show up in places where some evil fiend will deserve Jack's judge, jury and executioner justice. The first book, “The Killing Floor”, comes on like a rocket. In the intro, Childs describes how he wanted to create a character who wasn’t conflicted or alcoholic, but incredibly sure of himself. Tom Cruise has optioned the series for movies, and, although it’s a stretch for Childs’ readers to accept the 5’6” actor in the role, he did bring the requisite ferociousness to the part in the first film. (A second is due in the fall.) For me, another winter and another series completed. Recently, I found a solution for my Steig Larsson jones. His “Girl” trilogy inspired four movies (“The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” was done twice) and was a worldwide phenomenon. The books were his first novels. Larsson turned them all in together, went back to his office (like his male protagonist’s, he was a crusading journalist), and died of a heart attack. He never saw the enormous success, and we were left without hope of more. (Actually, a pretty good sequel was done by another Swedish writer this year, was a #1 book and will be a movie.) My epiphany was the discovery of another Scandanavian writer, Jo Nesbo. Beginning in the mid-’90’s, his Norwegian Harry Hole (pronounced “Ho-lay”) detective stories started getting attention. The third, “Redbreast” (‘99), is the beginning of a trilogy. I’ve just finished it, and I’m hooked again. This Harry is conflicted and alcoholic, but still smarter than the other guys in the room. There’s that delicious second and third reveal that keeps our hero and us guessing to the end. “Redbreast”, like Larsson’s novels, brings up the complicity of some of his countrymen with the Nazis during WWII, which, of course, always invokes deep fears. The political complexity seems to relate to our present situation of rising nationalism. “Redbreast” was voted the best mystery written by a Norwegian, and Nesbo has deservedly gained international acclaim. There’s a fascinating flip between the war’s eastern front, when some Norwegians thought it best to ally with the Germans against the Russians, and the present, when old scores are being settled. I look forward to the next two books, and many more. Nesbo inserts a wicked sense of humor that pops up, unexpectedly, amid the carnage. There's also interesting shifts of subjective and objective viewpoints, and the occasional hallucinatory passage, especially when Harry goes off the wagon following the loss of someone he cares about.
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I’ve got to tell you about a most delightful series, "The Victorian Trilogy", highly recommended for fans of classic sci-fi and steampunk alike. I waited impatiently for a year for "The Map of Chaos", which finally came out during the summer of 2015. These books use H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine", "War of the Worlds" and "The Invisible Man" for inspiration, and are sublimely wry social satires from the Spanish author Felix J. Palma. The whimsical style isn't for everyone, but I love it. Here are some promo blurbs for the three books:
“Set in Victorian London with characters real and imagined, "The Map of Time" boasts a triple play of intertwined plots in which a skeptical H.G. Wells is called upon to investigate purported incidents of time travel and to save lives and literary classics, including "The Time Machine", from being wiped from existence. What happens if we change history? The author explores this question in the novel, weaving an historical fantasy as imaginative as it is exciting—a story full of love and adventure that transports readers to a haunting setting in Victorian London for their own taste of time travel. “"The Map of the Sky" begins in 1898. New York socialite Emma Harlow agrees to marry well-to-do Montgomery Gilmore, but only if he first accepts her audacious challenge: to reproduce the Martian invasion featured in H. G. Wells’s popular novel "The War of the Worlds". Meanwhile in London, Wells himself is unexpectedly made privy to certain objects, apparently of extraterrestrial origin, that were discovered decades earlier on an ill-fated expedition to the Antarctic. On that same expedition was an American crew member named Edgar Allan Poe, whose inexplicable experiences in the frozen wasteland would ultimately inspire him to create one of his most enduring works of literature. When eerie, alien-looking cylinders begin appearing in London, Wells is certain it is all part of some elaborate hoax. But soon, to his great horror, he realizes that a true invasion of Earth has indeed begun. As brave bands of citizens converge on a crumbling London to defend it against utter ruin, Emma and her suitor must confront the enigma that is their love, a bright spark of hope even against the darkening light of apocalypse. “When the person he loves most dies in tragic circumstances, the mysterious protagonist of "The Map of Chaos" does all he can to speak to her one last time. A session with a renowned medium seems to offer the only solution, but the experience unleashes terrible forces that bring the world to the brink of disaster. Salvation can only be found in "The Map of Chaos", an obscure book that he is desperate to uncover. In his search, he is given invaluable help by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Lewis Carroll, and of course by H. G. Wells, whose "Invisible Man" seems to have escaped from the pages of his famous novel to sow terror among mankind. They alone can discover the means to save the world and to find the path that will reunite the lovers separated by death…” I couldn’t resist these books, having grown up with H.G. Wells novels and movies. And I’m glad I didn’t!
I saw the first trailer for Woody Allen’s “Cafe Society” at the Cameo in St Helena yesterday.
It’s set in Hollywood in the glamorous ‘30’s. We all loved the magic of “Midnight in Paris”, and i’m hoping this bit of nostalgia in half as good. It opened the recent Cannes Film Festival.
I was lucky to see Ike & Tina Turner on the road in ‘62 when they and other R&B big bands came through Springfield, Oregon, near my university, in their tour buses. James Brown and Bobby Blue Bland were also mighty, but the sexual power of Tina and the Ikettes was something this 18-year old from Portland had never seen before. These artists influenced me to the extent that I ended up three years later actually playing two of the same venues as Ike & Tina, in my own 10-piece R&B band.
To this day, I have several of their singles in my “A” rotation. In the ‘80’s, my friend and A&R man Carter signed Tina to Capitol. You know her troubled history with Ike from the film, ”What’s Love Got to Do With It?” The movie ends with her rediscovery by Australian manager Roger Davies, who brilliantly brought her from Holiday Inn shows to superstardom. It was sweet to witness this long-overdue success up close. Ironically, it was the second wave of English music of the early ‘80’s that kicked it off. Tina cut some songs with U.K. writer-producers who idolized her, and it was off to the Grammys. The night she swept those awards, I arrived at the Shrine in a limo, accompanied by three lovely ladies. It felt that we’d both come a long way. Shortly after I started my record business career as a salesman for Capitol in 1970 L.A., I went to see J.J. Cale at the Ash Grove, a tiny club on Melrose. He was on Blue Thumb, a label we distributed. My ambition at the time was to become an A&R man, so I was happy to pay attention to new music I was being exposed to. The opening act was a young woman I hadn’t hear of, but when she played I knew that she was going to be important. It was Bonnie Raitt. Just as I started having dreams of signing this future star, she announced that she had just done a deal with Warner Brothers. Ah, well, I thought. That’s a good label; she’ll do well. Fourteen or fifteen years went by, and I enjoyed hearing Bonnie’s records, many with Little Feat’s Lowell George or some other prestigious writer-performers. But no hits. Then, on a plane from Houston to Minneapolis with Ron Stone of the major management company Gold Mountain, I learn that Bonnie has signed with them, and has made a new deal with Capitol! So, after all this time, I’ll be able to work a Bonnie Raitt record! And what a record! The great producer Don Was had done magic with her. “Love’s Sneakin’ Up On You” was an easy record to promote at Rock radio, and the new video channel VH-1 put it over the top. Top 40 couldn’t resist any longer, and Bonnie got her first gold album. Of course, she was a road warrior, and was doing shows and promotional visits to radio stations. While in Detroit, she stopped at the office of a national tip sheet, MMR; coincidentally, I had done an interview with MMR that week. Bonnie autographed a copy of that page with “I Love This Guy!”. MMR framed it and sent it to me as a surprise; it hangs proudly in my office. Later, I found myself standing next to her at the post-party after a perfect concert at the Wiltern Theater; she was presented with her gold “Nick of Time” album record, which she passed to the folks at VH-1. She was grateful, gracious and adorable. In 1982, I was in my first tour as head of Rock Promotion, when the second U.K. music invasion popped. Depeche Mode, The Fixx, The Clash, Tears For Fears, The Cure, etc. Capitol had Iron Maiden, Thomas Dolby and Duran Duran, thanks to its being part of EMI Music worldwide. (This relationship had paid dividends before, with the Beatles.) I caught the wave, and had success with these artists at radio, especially Duran Duran. Their managers, the Birmingham-based Barrow brothers, invited me to their rental in Malibu one evening to hear some new music. They threw in a new singer in the U.K., one whose first record hadn’t come out yet here. It was Sade. I was stunned with the perfect groove, the sultry voice, the amazing arrangements and musicianship…. It was a quiet storm of the choicest ingredients, in a totally fresh and soulful mix. I was sad to hear she would be on Columbia, but, as with Bonnie Raitt years before, I was sure she’d be in good hand; I couldn’t imagine anyone not getting this extraordinary new talent. Driving up Sunset, I was hoping Tower Records would have an import, but it was too soon. I’d have to wait months. It was worth it. Thirty years later, and I haven’t tired of the singer and band known as Sade. Her sidemen are essential co-creators of the Sade sound. So again, years go by. I’m now long gone from L.A., living at Harbin Hot Springs. But my L.A. friend Levi Chen came up with concert tickets for a just-added show for Sade’s otherwise sold-out tour. I flew to Burbank, and, with Levi and his entourage, drove to Riverside for the show. The staging and production were superb. ButI don’t have to describe it, because you can see that very show on a Blu-ray disc, “Bring Me Home/Live 2011”. We were 25 feet from the corner of the stage, an ideal vantage point! (In the video, I’m the one standing up.) Yeah, that was moment! Honorable mention: Norah Jones, Me’Shell, Diana Krall, Adele, and all the greatest classic jazz singers that you can hear in contemporary dance club remixes on the “Verve Remixed” series. And Madonna, for "Ray of Light", which helped me begin again. Here are some DVDs I recommend:
Bob was and is a Detroit son. He heard early rock’n’roll and its root influences, rhythm’n’blues and country music, in a working class environment. He left his job on an auto assembly line and started performing in 1960. In those days, you could become a regional star over time and not be known elsewhere. And that’s what happened to Bob. Bear in mind that, up to this point, the media out of New York was enamored with English rockers; the Beatles were still releasing solo albums, the Stones and Pink Floyd were really just getting going, and new artists like David Bowie, Jethro Tull and Elton John were getting all the attention.
Fifteen long years later, Bob debuted his excellent new group, the Silver Bullet Band, in front of 40,000 fans at Detroit’s Cobo Hall. It was strictly a local phenomenon. His manager and co-producer, Punch Andrews, arranged for it be recorded. At Capitol Records, where Bob had just returned after a string of albums that failed to break, I had the good fortune to have just been given the job of running a new Rock Promotion department. (We called it “AOR”, reflecting the name for what had been progressive FM radio but was now being formatted, consulted and growing with the influence of the music revolution of the time.) Punch had the idea of editing two of Bob’s regional hits together into one killer medley: “Travelin’ Man/Beautiful Loser” was the first 12-inch, 33-1/3rpm single released to Rock radio, and it spread the airplay. In St. Louis, the radio station KSHE and the concert promotion company were connected, and they saw the value in trying to duplicate what happened in Detroit; it worked. The midwest embraced the success; “Live Bullet” went gold, Bob’s first. The word spread. Bob and Punch were quick to capitalize on the buzz; “Night Moves” was released in ‘76. It was a golden year for rock music, with Bruce Springsteen also bringing his New Jersey version of “street” on “Born in the USA”. Both Bruce and Bob proved to be consummate road warriors, and their bands were tight and soulful. The “Night Moves” single was Bob’s first national hit; the album sold four million in its first year, and continues to be regarded as a classic. After that, it was an unbroken series of hits for Bob. Everyone at the label loved him; interestingly, Capitol at the time reflected a blue-collar, heartland mentality more than other labels. I was delighted when Bob was made a member of the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame, and he continues to record and tour and win accolades. It’s easy to imagine the discouragement he must’ve felt in those first fifteen years, and I’m happy that he’s so honored now. But, perhaps it’s because of that struggle that his songwriting, even in the mid-’70’s, had such maturity, melancholy and wisdom. How did he know, as in “Against the Wind”, to write, “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” …? Or, in “Like a Rock”, the nostalgia we’d feel for our youthful vitality…? If anything, Bob’s songs mean more to me now than they did when I had the privilege to promote them 40 years ago. And in terms of raw talent, I believe Bob Seger’s voice to be the very heart and soul of rock’n’roll, the one voice I find to be indispensable. |
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