Music Conferences

Another evite.

CBGB Festival: Music Conference

Good Lord, is nothing not sacred? I mean, I can’t figure out the trajectory from the Ramones and Johnny Thunders to the head of Viacom Music. Maybe I missed something.

It’s funny that the music industry will pay more attention to CBGB’s as a brand than they ever did to the bands that played there. But a brand is something their lawyers can understand. Music? That’s a little iffy.

Anyway, fuck music conferences, all of them. I never attended one. I’m not gonna go hear some shyster babble about how he made his millions off other people’s music. I’ll just go hear the music.

Ya know, they reduce music to a business model, and they wonder where the sales went. Well, people don’t feel a business model. But they feel the real. Alas, real doesn’t fit into the business model. A conundrum. We’ll discuss it at the next conference. And can you turn down that damn music? I’m trying to think here.

Raji’s

(unpublished essay–2011)

Heard the Small Faces “Wham Bam Thank You Mam” over the weekend and it’s been going thru my head, and just found myself wiki-ing Steve Marriott to see when exactly he died. I remembered he was an old geezer at the time, one of my heroes. Well, that was 1991, and he was the ancient age of 44. I was 34 then. Funny how ten years seemed a much longer time when you’re 34 than when you’re 54. But there was that whole musical revolution between us, too. He was a hippie, me a punk. But goddam was Steve Marriott cool. I remember being hit kinda hard when he died.  I suppose all the Humble Pie I’d grown up on. Then a couple days later when Johnny Thunders died it was more of a thank god he’s finally gone, that pathetic junkie. Harsh, maybe, yeah. But he was. I’d known too many junkies and junkies-to-be Continue reading