Michael Jackson

The King Of Pop has passed away.

I found out the other day, when I called my friend, a young R&B singer. I could hear she was in tears.

"What's wrong, are you ok?" I asked. What could it be? Boyfriend problems? Fight with her mom? Whatever it was, I was ready, morphing into the 'understanding friend,' like Clark Kent becoming Superman.

"Are you watching the news?" she asked. I feared the worst. It's probably a disaster of some kind. That's when she told me that Michael Jackson died.

There was a small sense of relief that it wasn't a terrorist attack, but this momentary elation quickly waned as the implications started to hit me. I thought back to the day John Lennon died, when I was eleven years old. I cried that day. And while I didn't feel that same emotional reaction in this case, I could sense the magnitude of millions feeling that loss.

When "Thriller" came out in 1983, MJ had been someone I and my peers mistakenly thought of as a 'disco' artist. There was no way you could get me to listen to one of his albums. But leave it to Michael Jackson to achieve the impossible.

For the song "Beat It," he and producer Quincy Jones brought in Eddie Van Halen, who was my favorite guitarist and arguably the most influential hard rock guitarist of all time. By doing so, they made a statement that hard rock and R&B could go together, forever altering the course of pop music. They also got legions of stubborn teenage male rock fans like myself to pay attention to Michael Jackson.

Suddenly his earlier work, such as the "Off The Wall" album, started to resonate with me. Was it going to replace Ozzy and Judas Priest in my cassette deck? No. But was it worth putting on once in a while? Absolutely. Besides, girls liked it.

Then I heard his work with the Jackson 5. It was understandable why Michael had been labeled a 'boy genius.' His singing at eleven years old was on par with his label mates, which included The Temptations, Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder.

Anytime "Rock With You," comes on, I'm taken to a different time period. A more innocent one. A time where all of us were a little less cynical and less jaded. Great music has that quality.

Strangely enough, it was just last weekend, at an event, that I met the drummer who played on "Rock With You," John "JR" Robinson. He and others who've worked with MJ all agree that yes, he grew into someone odd, a mysterious figure with many unanswered questions. But more importantly, he was one of the great American entertainers, on the level of Fred Astaire and Charlie Chaplain, and a musician worthy of all the great musicians who've backed him up over the years. And while many of today's superstars rely on 'auto-tune' devices, digital editing and lipsyncing, Michael was the real deal. When those Jackon 5 albums were recorded, you had to just go in the studio and sing.

Sadly, there is darkness looming over the legacy of this exemplary artistry like a fecund rain cloud. Whether the numerous accusations against him are true or not, this was a man in need of serious psychological help. It is widely reported that no one could say no to him. In Erica Jong's novel, "Fanny," she describes a man who is a good person at heart, but whose behavior has "always gone unchecked. He never learned self-control, self-rule, or moderation."

I guess if there's a bright side to this, it's that, unlike Lennon, his death was not cause by an assassins bullet, but by him reconnecting with the artistry that we all associate with him. MJ was prepping for an upcoming tour. He knew that, unlike a Billy Joel or Paul McCartney show, his concerts could not subsist on just singing of the songs. The audience would not accept that. We need the 'Billy Jean' dance, the 'Beat It' gang fight, the "Thriller" Zombie routine and the Mafia stealth of 'Smooth Criminal.' In short, he had to get up there and be 'Michael Jackson' again. Unfortunately, his failing health and lost youth could not withstand it.

When I see the guy in the photo here, I see someone on top of his game. The little boy from The Jackson 5, all grown up and doing a whole new thing and ready to impact music for generations to come. This is the MJ I'm going to remember.

Whether we admit it or not, we have all been influenced by Michael Jackson.

Bay Area Blues Part II: "It's The Weather"

"How about this sunny day?" I was asked by a friend while visiting the Bay Area.

This was followed by a friendly nudge as he opened his arms and shrugged his shoulders toward the sky. Then he told me how he could never live anywhere else, especially the East Coast.

"Why not?" I ask

"It's the weather."

I like good weather sure, but my life doesn't depend on it. And I don't like every day to be the same.

In California, life often feels like the movie "Groundhog Day." Sure, the sky is pretty, but it's diminished by the slowness and sense of repetition. Some see the constant nice weather as the answer to all life's problems. I see numbness, denial and fake smiles in the sunshine.

In the major cities of the East Coast, there such a vast amount of activity and stimulation taking place at any given time, that it's rare to fall into the lazy 'funk' one feels in the Bay Area. This is especially true in New York, where takes less time to get from point A to point B, stores and restaurants stay open late, public transportation is affordable and runs all night and bars and music clubs stay open most of the night. As result, it's easier to get things done, it's more fun and I feel inspired here, regardless of the weather.

A nice day in New York doesn't happen as often, but it means something. Sure, we deal with blizzards, bone chilling cold, overcast skies, tropical humidity and all points in between. But out of nowhere, we'll get a crisp blue sky, nice temperature, and a golden sun. Suddenly everyone is out in the parks, reading, tossing a ball, rollerblading and hanging out. And it feels like something special, not just a typical day. The rest of the time everyone is working hard and playing hard.

Whenever I'm back in the Bay Area, I'm stuck by how many folks I run into whose personalities haven't changed one bit. Comedian Rob Schneider, who grew up the Bay Area, rose to fame on TV's Saturday Night Live playing a character that reminds me of some of the people I grew up with, most of whom still talk like that.

I can hear them now: "What up Al? The Al-man. Big A. Playin' the guitar. Ner ner ner ner" (Picture the last part accompanied by an impromptu 'air guitar' performance). Despite most of these guys now approaching middle age, they act like they're still in high school. I'm convinced it's partly because of the weather.

My theory is this: a clear changing of the seasons is a loud reminder that time is passing. On the East, we go through a cold, snowy Winter, a hot Summer, and the joyful balance of Spring and Fall in between. When it is all said and done, and before the cycle repeats, there is no question that another year has gone by. This is natures way of motivating you to grow up, set personal goals and move forward with your life.

Out West, every day feels roughly the same, you have less awareness that the months are turning into years and life is drifting by you like the San Francisco fog. I'm not saying there aren't any underachievers on the East Coast or that there aren't goal oriented folks out West. I'm just saying that, from my viewpoint, there are far too many in the Bay Area who'd better wake up and smell the Peet's Coffee before it's too late.




PS I should point out that Peets, a Berkeley institution since the 60's, is still my favorite coffee.

I Left San Francisco (And Took My Heart With Me)

(aka 'Bay Area Blues Part I')

I'll never forget the days just before I left the San Francisco Bay Area for New York City. "You'll be back" I was told by a once promising Bay Area musician. He later ended up quitting music altogether.

Others said "Give it a year. You'll be over it." After a year, I had no intention of ever leaving.

That's when they said "Give it two years. You'll see." After two years, I still had no plans to leave.

"Wait 'till you've been there five years" they said. Five years went by. When they asked if I ever thought of moving back, I just laughed.

I'm now in my eleventh year in New York, and have no plans to ever move away.

I understand New York is not for everyone. I've seen many come and go. Before the dust even has a chance to settle they're gone. They realize New York doesn't work for them and I can respect that.

What I'm amazed at is how so many from the Bay Area still bristle at the mention of New York and ask how I can live here. Many of them have never even been to New York. They complain about New Yorkers being abrasive, but by trying to impose their will on me, they're the ones who are behaving abrasively. They are just doing so with an even temper.

I'm not trying to make this a love letter to New York. Nor is it a hate letter to the Bay Area. If you like living in the Bay Area and feel fulfilled there, then I'm happy for you. Me? I can't list enough things that I don't like about it.

New York has three crucial things the Bay Area is missing: character, energy and connection to the rest of the world. Let's start by looking at the latter.

If you grow up in the Bay Area, as I did, you don't realize how isolated it is. The nearest large metropolitan region outside is the state capital, Sacramento, which is about two hours away by car. After that, there is Fresno, which is about a three hour drive. Sorry to say this, but if you go your whole life without ever visiting Sacramento and Fresno, you are not missing much. Seattle and Los Angeles, on the other hand, are important cities with a lot of character and well worth visiting. But with an approximately 8 hour drive, they're so far away from the Bay Area, they're not exactly neighboring cities.

In New York, our neighboring cities include Philadelphia (two hours West), Boston, (four hours East) and the nation's capital, Washington DC (four hours South). A bit farther, but closer than the distance from the Bay Area to LA, we have cities like Montreal and Pittsburgh. A flight to Europe doesn't take much longer than flying to The West Coast so as a result, we have a lot more visitors and residents visiting abroad at any given time. For these and many other reasons, we are very connected to the rest of the world.

Next, let's talk about character. In New York, people have more of a connection with their heritage. An Italian can be a real Italian. An Irishman can be a real Irishman. And a Jew can be a real Jew. In the Bay Area, at least when I was growing up, everyone was somehow expected to blend in and be the same. Although as a Jewish American, I'm ultimately more comfortable being neutral and non observant, I respect those who are more in touch with their roots and feel they should be free to be so. Even if we choose not to wear our heritage on our sleeve, I'm grateful to those that do and feel it is good for all of us to be reminded where we come from. I think this has to do with the fact that the East Coast has been settled a lot longer than the West Coast and has thus retained a lot of that old world character.' This cultural awareness is reflected in the restaurants, in the architecture, the artwork and in the overall dynamic of the city.

While the concept of America as a 'melting pot,' makes sense, the ingredients in the pot shouldn't lose their flavor as they seem to do in the Bay Area. Growing up in California, I was thrown into the cesspool of the public school system. There was an obvious difference between Anglo-American, African-American, Asian-American and Hispanic-American students, but the more subtle differences within each of these subgroups was masked. I agree in the concept of equality and no ethnic group being superior to any other. However, I think this minimal cultural awareness was a contributing factor as to why I and so many others I grew up with in the Bay Area ended up confused and damaged. Moving to New York and understanding how cultural background shapes each individual was very enlightening and healing. Nowhere is there a better balance of ethnicity and Americanism than on the East Coast and especially in New York.

I concede that the city of San Francisco itself has a strong sense of character on the level of any East Coast city. I admit enjoying visiting there for brief periods of time. But the fact is, the average resident of the Bay Area cannot afford to live in San Francisco. Instead, they are forced to reside in the sprawling nothingness of interchangeable suburbs, where the most exciting thing happening is on cable TV and at the local Chili's Bar And Grill. Yes, it's expensive to live in New York too, but I can't help but feel that the surrounding areas retain more of the character of the city than those on the outskirts of San Francisco.

Finally, let's talk about energy. It is generally agreed upon that New York is faced paced by nature, while The Bay Area is slow, often described as 'laid back.' I agree with this and believe that it gets in the way of individual progress and goals. It is no coincidence that most successful people from the Bay Area originally came from other regions and brought the character and energy of those places with them. Just look at the most successful musicians in the Bay Area: Metallica moved there from LA. Joe Satriani came from Long Island, New York. Carlos Santana emigrated from Mexico.

I just want to say that I recognize this as my own personal experience and respect that there others who may see things very differently. And it's not that there aren't some things I like about the Bay Area or that I like every single thing about New York. But for years, the Bay Area has felt like a record label that continues to exploit its back catalog: the Summer Of Love, the Beat generation and the Free Speech Movement. These once important events are now aging relics from the Sixties misused by too many in my generation and others as an excuse to coast through life as deadbeat stoners with no purpose.

Bay Area: you haven't had a hit in years. Get over it.

Great Metal Quotes

Thought I'd share these two metal quotes I came across. Both are examples of how metal and humor, two once diametrically opposed forces, are finding common ground:



"Yeah. The egg is the metal. And the devil is us - something completely new that the egg didn't even think it was going to become. We're the devil within the egg."

-Holy Grail (young metal band, recently signed)


www.laweekly.com/2009-06-04/music/who-the-hell-is-holy-grail/2



"Chuck Billy's hands are made for smashing skulls and I’m pretty sure his massive head features jaws that unhinge and can swallow indie rockers, yuppies and other non-thrashers whole. It’s disarming that he’s smiling all the time."

-MP Johnson (independent reviewer)

freaktension.wordpress.com/2009/05/11/review-testament-at-the-rock/

Erica Jong

Meeting ones heroes is a lot like playing
"Russian Roulette." From a safe distance, these men and women have played a huge role in your life. Seeing them in the flesh can enhance your admiration for them or diminish it. There are great artists that are wonderful people and others who are complete assholes. They're all human, have good and bad days and can always be caught at a bad moment. So no matter what, you are taking a big risk by meeting them. As a fan with fans of my own, I understand all sides of this equation.

Therefore, I was a bit nervous going in to see, up close and in person, someone that I'm a huge fan of. This happened a few weeks ago in a quaint bookstore in New York's Soho neighborhood. It was here where I met one of my all time heroes, author Erica Jong.

What can I say about Erica Jong? I'll start by saying that for me, she defines what it is to be an artist. Much of how I now approach music, art, writing and life comes from Erica, who was in town to read from her new book of poems, "Love Comes First."

I attended this reading with a close female friend, whom I'll call Jill. As we took seats in the cafe section of the bookstore, I was amazed that we were able to grab seats right in front of the podium where Erica would be reading. The amount of chairs was about enough for a classroom. I realize that authors don't have the draw of other celebs unless they write something like "Harry Potter" or "The Da Vinci Code." But her writing is as relevant now as it ever was. "Where is everyone?" I said out loud.

Although it was far from a capacity crowd, within ten minutes, most of the seats were filled. At this time, we saw Erica walking around, mingling with reps from the bookstore, and I could feel the energy change in the room. It was a thrill not unlike my first Kiss concert when I was ten years old. But instead of a concert arena, it was a brightly lit bookstore cafe. Instead of four hard rock superheroes, it was an attractive, elegant sixty-something woman. As she approached the podium to polite applause, I thought "She's real."

Erica did a brief talk about poetry, what it means to her and its place in the world. Then she launched into one of her new poems. It was as if she took out a trumpet and started playing beautiful, piercing cascades. I found myself unwittingly captivated.

While Poetry in general has never attracted me on the level of novels or essays, I was drawn in when I heard Erica's words woven together like mini tapestries. She had a rich timbre and dynamic inflection. Just as music should be heard live in order to fully appreciate it, the same can be said of poetry.

After the reading, Erica opened up the floor to questions and comments. Jill wanted to know Erica's thoughts on feminism in the 21st century, while my question started something like this:

"I love your work. Sometimes I feel weird about it because I'm...you know, a guy!"

This got a chuckle from the crowd. I elaborated that I was a bit young to appreciate Erica's work in the early 70's (I was a toddler). But here's what I wanted to know: back then, were there other guys like me that were drawn to her work despite its reputation as being literature for women?

"Yes, absolutely." she said. She thanked me for my comments and explained that in the 70's, it wasn't unusual to hear about guys who were into her books. Some read them to better understand women. A few confessed to knowing they would get lucky on a date if they saw one of her books on the girl's nightstand. And though in the minority, there were others like me: straight guys who identified with her characters and situations, even though they were from a woman's perspective.

I feel her books are for anyone and speak to everyone. They describe universal, human themes. They are not 'girly' like so many women's books that get turned into movies and TV shows, such as "Sex And The City" and "Confessions Of A Shopaholic." Erica deserves credit for opening doors for this type of writing to be possible. I can appreciate that even if this so called "chick lit,' is not for me. Reading a page of that stuff makes me want to drive to a pro wrestling match in a monster truck.

I have my own unique relationship with Erica Jong's work. It is a different one than that of the legions of women who credit her with giving them a voice. I respect that relationship too. It was a girlfriend in the 90's who first turned me on to Erica. Since then I've passed her books on to other girlfriends I've had, sometimes saying to them with mock seriousness: "It is your duty as a woman to read this book."

I never read Erica Jong to get inside the mind (and pants) of a girl, but I confess, it hasn't hurt. Reading her has taught me that yes, women are wired differently than men. But we also have a lot more in common than we think. And while a better understanding of the opposite sex has been a good thing, there is much more to Erica Jong than that.

What initially attracted me to her writing was that she was able to convey very deep ideas as if she was talking directly to me. She never wore her academia on her sleeve, despite having a vast literary knowledge. Her work was peppered with quotes from DH Lawrence, Shakespeare and other classics as well as others I hadn't heard of yet, such as Sylvia Plath and Pablo Neruda. She illuminated her relationships with these authors' creations, showing their work for the relevant art that it was, not just required reading for lit students.

Erica made being educated sound cool. Studying an art or science which connected to your heart was a reason to go to college. Not because your parents have a gun to your head, which was how I had felt, the end of my high school days approaching like the hour of execution.

Entering the metal world had been my escape. But that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate literature and creative writing. Erica's words helped me find the courage to embrace these interests, despite the unspoken disapproval of others, baffled that I didn't share their interests in wallowing away the hours with video games, shallow tv shows, fast food, substance abuse, cheap talk and other examples of cultural desolation.

Erica seemed like someone it would be a pleasure to talk to at a bar or on a plane. She was human first and foremost and conveyed her experiences honestly and directly, regardless of what anyone else thought. She was passionate and sensual. She also wasn't afraid to talk about the fact that she liked to fuck.

Are you a little shocked by that last sentence?

Imagine that feeling, but multiplied by hundreds and experienced by millions. Such was the case when Erica's first novel, "Fear Of Flying" hit bookstores in 1973. The book sent tremors around the world and went on to sell over 20 million copies. She was simultaneously deified and crucified in the press. She was embraced, and later rejected, by the emerging feminist movement.

In her following books "How To Save Your Own Life," and "Parachutes and Kisses," she brilliantly chronicled these experiences through her character "Isadora Wing." In my opinion, these sequels are even better than the original, great as it is. But like much of her other work, they were overshadowed by the aftermath of "Fear Of Flying."

Never had a female author written so openly about her thoughts and experiences with sex. This was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it broke through barriers of what was acceptable literary territory for women. On the other hand, it gave her a misguided and unfair reputation as an author of 'erotica."

Never mind that her writing is filled with brilliant metaphors, colorful scenes, and great storytelling. Never mind that her books are as riveting as any bestselling suspense novel, but with depth, humanness and life lessons. Never mind that she is a poet of the highest order. Erica has and continues to be tagged as a 'sex writer' and even in some cases a 'pornographer.'

These labels are so absurd, it makes you wonder if some of these accusers have even bothered to read her work. This is a classic example of great art falling prey to close mindedness and limited attention spans, causing it to be overshadowed by the flashy qualities make it stand out. These qualities are small parts of a much bigger picture, but so many people are trapped in their predjudices and ignorance that they can't see past it. A similar example can be found in the late great musician Jimi Hendrix. Many critics only saw a guy who set fire to his guitar and played with his teeth.

After the reading, we got in the short line to meet Erica one on one, and she signed a couple books for me. I didn't want to talk about myself too much, but I told her how she helped me find the courage to tackle music beyond heavy metal. She seemed genuinely appreciative. We also had a nice talk about music, and I gave her a CD of my jazz trio. She told me she likes to listen to jazz, especially the work of the late trumpeter and vocalist Chet Baker. We each took pictures with Erica and told her how great it was meeting her.

Being face to face with Erica Jong has only enhanced my admiration for her. It was one of those encounters that was everything a fan could hope for and more. I'm really glad I decided take the risk of meeting this true hero of mine.

"IF YOU DON'T RISK ANYTHING, YOU RISK EVEN MORE." -Erica Jong