Untitled

We often cope with depression in our own privacy. Anything else would seem like self-pity. Or even self-indulgent.

In Stanley Park, one of Canada's most beautiful places, Andrew Koening, an actor known to many (Star Trek, GI Joe, Growing Pains), the son of Star Trek's Chekov and a former co-star to Alyssa Milano who has done so much for this world (including #Haiti), committed suicide in a place he loved.

He was an environmentalist and was also politically active. He actually cared about the world. He touched even Sarah Silverman's heart.

* * *

Depression is hard to shake. It gets the best of us. It torments the most honest soul.

Today Alyssa Milano made a call for anyone experiencing this - to not be alone. I respect this woman so much, i wanted to write this. Outside of television, i first experienced Alyssa Milano on Twitter. Before any company donated, Alyssa donated $50,000 to #Haiti and challenged any corporation in America to match her. She was there before anyone knew what to do.

* * *

So i guess one needs to lead by example to make her call worthwhile.

I am going to try and do my best to articulate things that have made me very sad, and sometimes i wish i can even be angry but i can't. There's never been a time or place for it.

There is no start or end to sadness. There is no hierarchy. Feelings just randomly hit you.

But i suppose if i were to start...i have lost so many loved ones.

* * *

My youngest brother didn't even live until 30 years old. I watched him die. I held him when he was a baby. It makes it hard for me to experience anyone in our family or among my friends be selfish. My brother was the best i knew. I can't recall him ever complaining in front of me. I lived with him for the last years of his life. I would have gladly traded my life for him to live more. His last email to me, nearly 2 years ago, was Happy Birthday. He passed away on our mother's birthday. His last words were Happy Birthday mom. Before he died, I was in New York like i am now. I am reminded everyday of how i felt back then. I am not the same as i used to be. This is how i am reminded most. I had such a happy day on my birthday two years ago, top of my world (even dancing) and never got that back ever since. One friend actually said i use his death as an excuse for not moving forward as much as i can, and i dont know if this helped or made me even sadder.

* * *

In many ways it was a good, in other ways it was bad, i didnt find out right away that my lover from long ago disappeared while travelling. I didnt know for two years, the news didnt reach me somehow. I haven't dated a lot since my marriage. She was one of only two people i dated. To this day, no one knows what happened to Nicole Vienneau. When you lose someone like this who was so close...it's unbearable. You hear her voice, you recall everything you did, what she did for you. You replay so much in your head. I investigate how a crime could happen, what evil may have occurred to cause her disappearance. There's no closure yet, not for me, her mother, her fiance or her brother. I fight our own government who so far has refused to hand over all information they have for Nicole's family. Information sent to Canada by her family's own lawyers is being with-held by our government due to "privacy laws" of all things. It's taken nearly a year to get some of the case files via the Freedom of Information Act. I am on this case every month. It's never-ending. It takes a toll at times...especially when we must consider what horrible things may have happened to her to solve this case.

* * *

So when someone bitches about their own life, i get mad quietly to myself. I get sad quietly to myself. You have a life.

* * *
Before this i lost two mentors - CEOs i worked with - to heart attacks. They left behind children. I was so upset i couldn't even go to their funerals or revisit offices where we spent so many hours together to create successful visionary journeys.

Four loved ones lost in four years is much.

Before this i lost the first teacher i ever loved. Her name was Rosemary Lanoue. She was my Grade 3 teacher who died in a car crash on highway 401 driven by a priest at our school. She was 25. I think that was my first experience of heart break. I wasn't Catholic then but i showed up everyday with a Rosary praying to Mary thinking there was a connection to Rosemary. God didn't answer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FScv89J6rro

* * *

Outside of this, i had two major adult hardships. The power of love was painful. One was the separation of my daughter from me - someone i love so much who now lives an ocean away. This is one major reason why i moved from Vancouver, a place i lived my entire adult life for 18 years. I would be reminded too much of our separation. I started writing again - for her - to deal with these circumstances. Everything i write is a time capsule for her.

No one really cares for my personal life. It's not their family. No family member or business partner realizes how lucky they are to even be on the same continent as their children. When i hear people gripe about kids...it's hard. I want my kid here. I only get to see her once or twice (if i am lucky) a year.

Though less than before, i still get separation anxiety. Anyone with her name is special to me. I leave a path for her to find if one day somehow i am cut off.

* * *

It took me years to overcome a situation with a great love. We had known each other for four years - hanging out nearly daily. Then one day, our situation became dishonest and many would say manipulative. It took two years to even recognize it. But so much bigness helped us heal to the point where i think our respect is stronger today. I've known her 10 years. I've known my daughter's mother 21 years. I've known some friends 35 years (and many 10 or more).

Whenever i see any friends hide things from their boyfriends, friends or girlfriends...i can only urge, it's not worth the price if you truly care. People inevitably find out. People closest to you, know you well enough, even if you are not transparent openly. You can't hide the truth. I've lost friends since - whether i like to admit it or not - because deception, or exploitation, is hard to repair. The only time i succeeded took four years. And i knew her long enough, deep enough, to make it worth that painful journey.

* * *
In the past two years, after my brother died, a few people have been extremely harsh on me for the sake of self-interest. I dont get down about it anymore. But closure was never had. I felt cheated, financially and emotionally. These are things i cant really address in public because i dont feel right about calling out people who stooped or hid the truth.

* * *

And yes, in my childhood, i was gravely impacted. I feel I lost my childhood taking care of my brother and sister in a single father family. I went to court during those medieval times when a child was asked to choose between two parents. Only me - no other siblings. There were rumours of who wanted whom and whom was unwanted...these are things a four to six year old shouldn't know.

I grew up fast, before any Catcher In The Rye, and became adult when i was six. And there's not a day that goes by when i dont realize how that period impacted me for life.

* * *

So this sounds too much to take right?

It is. Humanly impossible.

But why am i alive?

I am not afraid of death. I've risked my life enough times to know.

To be honest, i've seen and met enough people who have had it worse than i. Life is precious. Though painful as some experiences can be...life is precious and there are people who lead by example, who inspire by example, who build bridges, who have such a big outlook, the petty is not on the radar. Only that life that is precious.

I feel pain, nearly every night, nearly every day. But i also see inspiration nearly every second day if not everyday. It's not always the person in front of me or next to me...but the power of the internet can access people like Alyssa Milano.

I stay in touch with friends who are around the world being a good ambassador for humanity. Getting things done. Among them...people who lead by example, who dont waste life.

They click, they inspire, they commit to a better world.

That keeps me hanging around. When you lose loved ones, you also feel an overwhelming commitment to live a life a lost one didnt have.

But sure, the pain still stays. Some say it never goes away. And people - selfish people, greedy people, self-centered people, and even angry people - make this pain more painful. We deal with so many people who violate and leave you holding the bag. People who exhaust so much time, money and emotion.

There are better people than this.

So the key thing i find is to withdraw from those who cause pain and gravitate towards people who make things worthwhile.

This is also why i am in New York. This is why i do what i do. And it's also for that singer who makes words and music matter because they create what cannot be seen.

Death of An Album (A Contrarion Truth)

The album is futile.

The CD is dead.

(in rock speak that means still alive but not really)

It's hard to believe once in history 90,000 people gathered in Chicago to blow up albums ~ July 12, 1979.

A major Artist sees what an Indie Artist might not know.

Inspiration-wise, a single generates more exposure and listening sessions than an album. And financially online (here's the change), a single (in $) can sell more than an album of 12 songs. Even a single from that same album.

I first saw him in a New York basement. He put people in a trance. He had no album.

"Every once in a while, an artist comes along who changes everything...this person fills a void within the fabric of our culture--a hole we didn’t even know was there."

~ Eric Lewis prompted one critic to write this. He was then featured by TED and BET Honors (this month). Still no album.

http://www.ted.com/talks/eric_lewis_strikes_chords_to_rock_the_jazz_world.html

An album might be priced higher, and valued priceless by its Artist, but a single from it generates the core income and audience (even to sell/promote an album).

Six years ago, singles at one download store with 1 million songs generated 2-3 times more income than album sales. Since then, album sales have declined significantly, and income from singles increases every year. I used to think it was because albums took too long to download (even for Radiohead's In Rainbows), but now i am not so sure.

Thom Yorke was first thinking of releasing singles only by download (not an album). I admired Radiohead's elastic pricing of pay what you want, but didnt have enough time for an album download sitting when In Rainbows was released on October 10, 2007. And i am big fan who would've paid. I was traveling, working every day. The average buyer paid £4. One third paid nothing, one survey of 3000 people reported.

For a fan like me of the album - the whole concept, the complete body of inspiration, the full vision... I have a nostalgic emotional attachment to this. Albums changed my life. Not all of them, but enough of them. So this is hard to admit: As a digital money-maker, the album is on its way out. There are also less and less good albums.

The listening experience is no longer an album. It's a playlist of singles by one Artist mixed in with other Artists. This playlist is the album - and hopefully its songs are compatible. Songs by VERY different Artists.

July 12, 1979 ~ when people cared a lot for albums, and the compatibility of music.

Even YouTube promotes one song at a time. Not an album. Youtube channels of multiple songs from one Artist are shared far less.

The last frontier of the album is the automobile (where there are still CD players in spite of an iPod invasion), back catalogue (classic albums) and live music shows (emotive impulse buys). But even then, i see how it's more efficient to only distribute songs people like a lot--versus an album reluctantly played in full (if at all). Few people play an album just to hear one song. Even fewer play an entire album. This curbs an album-focused Artist's play time.

It's hard to believe on July 12, 1979, 90,000 people gathered at a Chicago baseball stadium to blow up albums because they thought Disco music wasn't worthy of an album.

A bonfire was made from albums. After music fans burned albums, near-riots broke out in Chicago. You could get beat up for liking disco. A DJ was fired after a radio station shifted from album-oriented rock, to disco singles. I liked rock (but was also a Bee Gees and Donna Summer fan). People gained admission for 98 cents if they brought a disco album (an ingenius promotion that will not be tried again). The DJ lit the explosives to blow up a pile of albums, tearing a hole in outfield and starting a fire. Near-rioting fans then spilled onto the field, later met by riot police.

Back then, music fans actually cared a lot for what was on an album. Today this would never happen. Disco has even made its way back. It was great music (made for today's singles market) just different than great album music of the day.

Today we are lucky to even hear great new music. One blogger called much of today's downloads "perishable music." Downloads aren't as collectible. Once you finish digesting it, it's gone. Alternatively, one can argue there's too much choice. Next.

I still remember her first words that grabbed me: "Get up, get up, your lazy bones. There's enough time to sleep in the grave."

I think she was only 19 when she wrote Headroom. She has no album.

At shows, I've heard people sing Kate's lyrics. Without an album, they also remember this title:

Aim Low
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMpO4Ak7wuM

Historically, the old-school way, music is released on an album. After this, you might not ever hear from this Artist again (or for a while).

The new school is what I experienced with Kate. "Serialized music." Or "episodic music." You release songs in a series people follow. I can't wait for her next song. In this model, you're also only as good as your last song (bad/good), not your last album.

These days there's barely enough time to sample two new songs. The trick is to offer one that causes a listener to sample another. Seems obvious, but so many Artists peddle an overwhelming volume of titles (everything important to the Artist but lost in a boundless sea of other Artists).

I am not surprised to have received this email today:

"MuchMusic spoke to k-os last night... where he gave Much the scoop about his new plan for releasing music.

No More Albums ~ K-OS

`…I'm not going to make any more albums... I think we're just going to drop singles for a couple years and see what happens. If those singles are successful, maybe put out a compilation of the ones that people like and call it an album, like what Elvis and The Beatles did.'

`I've been [in the studio] for 10 years of my life. I kinda just want to stay immediate. I think with Lil' Wayne and our dude Drake, it's showing you don't have to make an album. So the next thing I do is probably a single a month with a video, then another single with a video and keep it current.”

It goes without saying that record stores are reducing inventory (decreasing demand) and shelf space (DVDs sell better than CDs). Radio stations receive music more often now as downloads - singles not albums. Albums were made for a day when we could only access 1000 records we liked. We are now in the 1 million-song universe. No one has the time to rifle through so much music. Not the fan. Not the critic. Not even a musician.

Valerie just arrived in Cali to see the Grammy Awards. She has no album.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-Fu6_fvbLM

PS Fresh off Twitter....i just saw Eric finally released an album. Available at http://www.cdbaby.com/elew. Like i said, this blog is contrarion ;). There's no one way street in music. And thankfully, no dead ends.

The Hiding and the Giving (the tarnish and the varnish)

People make mistakes. People count on so many for help. But so many people cannot be transparent.

Though many say they are.

There’s a certain dishonesty about hiding things behind the curtain that doesn’t suspend disbelief.

I admire Wyclef Jean for coming forward to tell the world his charity made mistakes with money (within 24 hours, not 12 years later like Mark McGuire).

Wyclef faced the music—and right after seeing so many people lose their choice between life and death.

In Hope for Haiti, Wyclef subtly wore a flag as a tie.

Though a lot of people pretend this...no one on this planet spends/earns money perfectly. Otherwise we’d all be perfect in income, investment, business and reputation. To expect this would be ridiculous.

I like to think that we as a people have a mistake tolerance for a greater good.

But when spin doctors or people spinning stories to make themselves look perfect (or less imperfect) – that’s when things start to get perpetually dishonest. (Habit = Perpertual)

If mistakes are reasonable – we could have made them – why hide them?

This might only deter support, erode trust, and seed doubts. (= lost confidence) Things that can’t been seen but can be felt are left unaddressed. More often than not, you can't hide everything fully.

A little more honest tarnish and less instant varnish would do many so much good today.

If costs are honest and help received was genuine – why hide this?

Honesty is the only currency we trust today. We’ve had enough of the rest. The people who act genuine show tarnish.

Tarnish if honest is varnish.

Without showing it, it's hard to have an honest dialogue.

Personally, I’ve met enough people who can’t admit mistakes. And maybe some of us may lack the grace of an eloquent speaker to admit anything, but at least it’s honest.

Too many people are afraid of mistakes. People who are controlled by spin doctors or their own spin. "A reputation to live up to…"

Dishonest is how people use what’s given to enhance their profile – even more so than people who gave or why they gave.

Ultimately, it's the people who hide from us, or hide from themselves, that we think are ruined.

Democracy Now (Ode to Moriso)

Democracy now is more yours than mine.
You sing. And I see no one like me.

You preach. And I see no one in the pew.
But you.

You help. And I am not helped.
I help. And you are helped.

I pay. You earn.
You pay. You earn.

I like you.
You like you.

Sometimes I pick up beats inspired by someone else. Tonight I was inspired by Moriso-Lewa (Félix Morisseau-Leroy). He wrote in Haitian Créole – the first major writer to do so. In 1961, he made Créole an official language of Haiti - majority spoke it. He rode a horse in Haiti and also wrote in French. A New Yorker in the 1940s, Félix received his masters degree in literature from Columbia University. He then returned to Port Au Prince and paid attention to the Créole of the streets. The Father of Créole Renaissance later lived in exile in Sengal and Ghana. He lived his final years in Miami where a street in Little Haiti is named after him. Dyakout I (Diacoute) (1953), a collection of poems, has been translated into six languages.

Antigone means "unbending." Moriso translated the Greek Tragedy into Kreyol as Wa Kreyon adapting characters and context to Haitian culture (e.g. Vodoun priest). Coincidentally (or not), i saw Antigone on 9+9-9-9 (Sept 19, 2009). This was photographed at 949. i dont see a lot of plays.

“But they wind up wounded, not even dead.”

That’s a last line from Bruce Springsteen’s Jungleland.

This is another line:

“Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge
Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain.”

I used to listen to this record over and over again – in the wee hours.

“Between what's flesh and what's fantasy
…the poets down here
Don't write nothing at all
They just stand back and let it all be.”

The last take of Jungleland took 16 hours to record in midtown, New York. Springsteen sung with eyes closed, asleep, final take, dreaming.

When he awoke, he became the first singer simultaneously on the cover of Time and Newsweek.

* * *

“ I don’t have any reasons, I’ve left them all behind.”

~ Billy Joel, New York State of Mind.

In my FB album, New York State of Mind
(2007)

Soulful words came from a four-hour TV special at Madison Square Garden. MSG IV was born two weeks before me. MSG I was built in 1890, the largest building in America, seating 5000 for a circus, a political convention or a horse show. It had a small opera house, ballroom, restaurant and rooftop cabaret.

* * *

“ Chrome wheeled, fuel-injected and steppin’ out over the line
Baby this town rips the bones from your back”

~ Bruce Springsteen, Born To Run

I am always amazed how he can still put everything on the line on stage. His showmanship is not contrived. Stakes are always high with the Boss.

* * *

My brother-in-law, a master photographer, once made a portrait of Patti Smith (ode to Robert Mapplethorpe). In Brooklyn, a friend of mine, once found a book about her on a sidewalk.

“ “If we believe in the night we trust.”

~ Because The Night,
Patti Smith

* * *

I first saw Sweet Jane sung by the Cowboy Junkies at the Commodore in Vancouver. Tonight Lou Reed sung it with Metallica. A friend just saw Lou Reed with Laurie Andersen in a New York City café.

“ “Standing on the corner,
Suitcase in my hand”

~ Sweet Jane,
Lou Reed

me@JFK off airtrain Christmas Eve

Lou never did return to Velvet Underground. After quitting this celebrity band, he earned $40 a week as a typist for his father’s accounting firm. Later in his solo career, to fulfill his label contract once, when he didn’t want to record another album, Lou made a double album of noise called Metal Machine Music. Rolling Stone said it sounded like "the tubular groaning of a galactic refrigerator."

"No one is supposed to be able to do a thing like that and survive," Lou Reed later said. But he did. And this album became an urban legend in music history. Some people say it started Heavy Metal. Some people say it started Punk. Some people say it started Ambient Music. Some people say it started Industrial Music. No one heard the same thing. Lester Bangs, tongue in cheek, called it the "The Greatest Album Ever Made." Billy Altman described it as "ear-wrecking electronic sludge, guaranteed to clear any room of humans in record time."

Escape from Bellevue
(a concert in the Village)

Lou did return to normal after this, which was not normal to begin with.

* * *

For a U2 concert, Lou appeared on satellite to sing Satellite of Love. This brilliant song didn’t crack the charts in 1972…there were just too many hall of fame songs that year. It’s why Nick Drake’s Pink Moon and his genius open tunings didn’t become successful until 26 years after Nick died. Heath Ledger before he died of a deadly drug mix wanted to portray Nick. Nick only sold 5000 records before he died of a drug overdose. Another musician before signing with Island insisted Nick be kept in print posthumously.

Imagine all the songs not kept.

* * *

When I see San Remo, across Central Park, in New York City, I can’t help but think of Paul Simon. How he defended Madonna in 1985, who wasn’t allowed to buy an apartment. When I see Central Park, I can’t help of think of Simon and Garfunkel concerts…the ghost of music is still there.

San Remo, Central Park

“In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
`I am leaving, I am leaving’
But the fighter still remains.”

~ Paul Simon, The Boxer

Art seems to look, forever without friends, in that Bridge Over Troubled Waters.

“I’ll take your part
When darkness comes”

* * *

It’s hard to believe the Irish poet can still sing.

SoHo gallery. Ron Woods paintings in here.

“It's just a moment
This time will pass”

~ Stuck In A Moment, U2
How The Edge sung like Bono, and how Mick Jagger took lead, I will never forget these three-voice moments.

“Only love can leave such a mark.”

~ Magnificent, U2

It’s hard to believe how this show was structured like a song circle.

* * *

Not lost on Springsteen and Patti Smith fans, Bono, a medley king, weaved words and melodies from The Promise Land and Because the Night into U2 songs. Who could imagine it in I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.

“See the Bedouin fires at night”

~ Beautiful Day, U2

my friend Nicole Vienneau who disappeared saw Bedouin country

* * *

I have to admit, unexpectedly, Fergie stole the show, singing:

“ “War, Children, It’s Just A Shot Away”
“Rape, Murder, It’s Just A Shot Away”

“
~ Rolling Stones, Gimme Shelter

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eASIP7NomXQ&feature=related

She did this with U2, Will.I.Am and Mick Jagger on stage. In Montreal, at Time, our table was next to Fergie’s during the F-1.

Time - Fergie was here
(by Bell Centre, Montreal)

People danced on tables next to gigantic Belvedere vodka bottles. They sure know how to dance in Montreal.

* * *

Good ol’ John Fogarty of CCR showed up. He was once sued for sounding like himself.

When he released “The Old Man Down the Road” his former label sued him for sounding like his song “Run Through the Jungle.” Who gets sued for sounding like yourself? Tonight, he sung Fortunate Son.

“ “Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh.
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes”

“
~ Creedence Clearwater Revival

When he was sued, John brought his guitar to court. He defended himself successfully.

* * *
Well, no words can describe Buddy Guy. Suffice to say, he inspired Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. Jeff Beck used sign language to describe what he heard this night. Buddy walked on, and walked off like a ghost…did this legend just appear?

He returned to the Cross Roads.

* * *

Sting sung Midnight Train To Georgia.

“ L.A. proved too much for the man,
So he's leavin' the life he's come to know,
He said he's goin' back to find
Ooh, what's left of his world,
The world he left behind
Not so long ago.”

I saw Sting at Live Earth with a photographer friend at Giants Stadium.

The next week she saw him at Toronto’s Downward Dog Yoga Studio.

Before long, her best friend saw him Australia.

Boy, does Sting get around.

* **

Tom Morello played the Ghost of Tom Joad.

Families sleepin' in their cars in the southwest
No home no job no peace no rest

The highway is alive tonight
But nobody's kiddin' nobody about where it goes
I'm sittin' down here in the campfire light
Searchin' for the ghost of Tom Joad

A friend of mine knows him. After listening to so many stories, I tried once to see him in New York City. I even bought tickets – four to be exact. Then a friend fell ill on site and I missed Rage Against the Machine.

i even got stamped and sat on grass

Seeing my friends who knew Tom Morello was as close as I got

Tom Joad is a character in John Steinback’s Grapes of Wrath. Before Christmas, I will eat noodles with two friends in Toronto’s Chinatown. Tom was here.

I finally saw him play. Boy, can he play a mean guitar.

* * *

And who could forget that hallowed speech, the Boss gave for U2’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which somehow found its way to Cleveland:

“Uno, dos, tres, catorce.. That translates as one, two, three, fourteen. That is the correct math for a rock and roll band. For in art and love and rock and roll, the whole had better equal much more than the sum of its parts, or else you're just rubbing two sticks together searching for fire. A great rock band searches for the same kind of combustible force that fueled the expansion of the universe after the big bang. You want the earth to shake and spit fire. You want the sky to split apart and for God to pour out.

Bono Vox

It's embarrassing to want so much, and to expect so much from music, except sometimes it happens -- the Sun Sessions, Highway 61, Sgt. Peppers, the Band, Robert Johnson, Exile on Main Street, Born to Run -- whoops, I meant to leave that one out (laughter) -- the Sex Pistols, Aretha Franklin, the Clash, James Brown...the proud and public enemies it takes a nation of millions to hold back. This is music meant to take on not only the powers that be, but on a good day, the universe and God himself -- if he was listening. It's man's accountability, and U2 belongs on this list.

It was the early '80s. I went with Pete Townshend, who always wanted to catch the first whiff of those about to unseat us, to a club in London. There they were: A young Bono -- single-handedly pioneering the Irish mullet; (laughter) the Edge -- what kind of name was that?; Adam and Larry. I was listening to the last band of whom I would be able to name all of its members. They had an exciting show and a big, beautiful sound. They lifted the roof.

We met afterwards and they were nice young men. They were Irish. Irish! Now, this would play an enormous part in their success in the States. For what the English occasionally have the refined sensibilities to overcome, we Irish and Italians have no such problem. We come through the door fists and hearts first. U2, with the dark, chiming sound of heaven at their command -- which, of course, is the sound of unrequited love and longing, their greatest theme -- their search for God intact. This was a band that wanted to lay claim to not only this world but had their eyes on the next one, too.

Now, they're a real band; each member plays a vital part. I believe they actually practice some form of democracy -- toxic poison in a band's head. In Iraq, maybe. In rock, no! Yet they survive. They have harnessed the time bomb that exists in the heart of every great rock and roll band that usually explodes, as we see regularly from this stage. But they seemed to have innately understood the primary rule of rock band job security: "Hey, asshole, the other guy is more important than you think he is!" They are both a step forward and direct descendants of the great bands who believed rock music could shake things up in the world, who dared to have faith in their audience, who believed if they played their best it would bring out the best in you. They believed in pop stardom and the big time. Now this requires foolishness and a calculating mind. It also requires a deeply held faith in the work you're doing and in its powers to transform. U2 hungered for it all, and built a sound, and they wrote the songs that demanded it. They're keepers of some of the most beautiful sonic architecture in rock and roll.

Jenny Holzer installation for Zoo TV Tour

The Edge. The Edge. The Edge. The Edge. (applause) He is a rare and true guitar original and one of the subtlest guitar heroes of all time. He's dedicated to ensemble playing and he subsumes his guitar ego in the group. But do not be fooled. Take Jimi Hendrix, Chuck Berry, Neil Young, Pete Townshend -- guitarists who defined the sound of their band and their times. If you play like them, you sound like them. If you are playing those rhythmic two-note sustained fourths, drenched in echo, you are going to sound like the Edge, my son. Go back to the drawing board and chances are you won't have much luck. There are only a handful of guitar stylists who can create a world with their instruments, and he's one of them. The Edge's guitar playing creates enormous space and vast landscapes. It is a thrilling and a heartbreaking sound that hangs over you like the unsettled sky. In the turf it stakes out, it is inherently spiritual. It is grace and it is a gift.

Now, all of this has to be held down by something. The deep sureness of Adam Clayton's bass and the rhythms of Larry Mullen's elegant drumming hold the band down while propelling it forward. It's in U2's great rhythm section that the band finds its sexuality and its dangerousness. Listen to "Desire," "She Moves in Mysterious Ways," [sic] the pulse of "With or Without You." Together Larry and Adam create the element that suggests the ecstatic possibilities of that other kingdom -- the one below the earth and below the belt -- that no great rock band can lay claim to the title without.

Joshua Tree - San Francisco
(where U2 performed Where the Streets Have No Name in the street)

Now Adam always strikes me as the professorial one, the sophisticated member. He creates not only the musical but physical stability on his side of the stage. The tone and depth of his bass playing has allowed the band to move from rock to dance music and beyond. One of the first things I noticed about U2 was that underneath the guitar and the bass, they have these very modern rhythms going on. Rather than a straight 2 and 4, Larry often plays with a lot of syncopation, and that connects the band to modern dance textures. The drums often sounded high and tight and he was swinging down there, and this gave the band a unique profile and allowed their rock textures to soar above on a bed of his rhythm.

Now Larry, of course, besides being an incredible drummer, bears the burden of being the band's requisite "good-looking member," (laughter) something we somehow overlooked in the E Street Band. (laughter) We have to settle for "charismatic." Girls love on Larry Mullen! I have a female assistant that would like to sit on Larry's drum stool. A male one, too. We all have our crosses to bear.

Bono...where do I begin? Jeans designer, soon-to-be World Bank operator, just plain operator, seller of the Brooklyn Bridge -- oh hold up, he played under the Brooklyn Bridge, that's right. Soon-to-be mastermind operator of the Bono burger franchise, where more than one million stories will be told by a crazy Irishman. Now I realize that it's a dirty job and somebody has to do it, but don't quit your day job yet, my friend. You're pretty good at it, and a sound this big needs somebody to ride herd over it.

And ride herd over it he does. His voice, big-hearted and open, thoroughly decent no matter how hard he tries. Now he's a great frontman. Against the odds, he is not your mom's standard skinny, ex-junkie archetype. He has the physique of a rugby player...well, an ex-rugby player. Shaman, shyster, one of the greatest and most endearingly naked messianic complexes in rock and roll. (laughter) God bless you, man! It takes one to know one, of course.

One

You see, every good Irish and Italian-Irish front man knows that before James Brown there was Jesus. So hold the McDonald arches on the stage set, boys, we are not ironists. We are creations of the heart and of the earth and of the stations of the cross -- there's no getting out of it. He is gifted with an operatic voice and a beautiful falsetto rare among strong rock singers. But most important, his is a voice shot through with self-doubt. That's what makes that big sound work. It is this element of Bono's talent -- along with his beautiful lyric writing -- that gives the often-celestial music of U2 its fragility and its realness. It is the questioning, the constant questioning in Bono's voice, where the band stakes its claim to its humanity and declares its commonality with us.

Now Bono's voice often sounds like it's shouting not over top of the band but from deep within it. "Here we are, Lord, this mess, in your image." He delivers all of this with great drama and an occasional smirk that says, "Kiss me, I'm Irish." He's one of the great front men of the past twenty years. He is also one of the only musicians to devote his personal faith and the ideals of his band into the real world in a way that remains true to rock's earliest implications of freedom and connection and the possibility of something better.

So close so far away

Now the band's beautiful songwriting -- "Pride (In The Name of Love)," "Sunday Bloody Sunday," "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," "One," "Where the Streets Have No Name," "Beautiful Day" -- reminds us of the stakes that the band always plays for. It's an incredible songbook. In their music you hear the spirituality as home and as quest. How do you find God unless he's in your heart? In your desire? In your feet? I believe this is a big part of what's kept their band together all of these years.

See, bands get formed by accident, but they don't survive by accident. It takes will, intent, a sense of shared purpose, and a tolerance for your friends' fallibilities...and they of yours. And that only evens the odds. U2 has not only evened the odds but they've beaten them by continuing to do their finest work and remaining at the top of their game and the charts for 25 years. I feel a great affinity for these guys as people as well as musicians.

Well...there I was sitting down on the couch in my pajamas with my eldest son. He was watching TV. I was doing one of my favorite things -- I was tallying up all the money I passed up in endorsements over the years (laughter) and thinking of all the fun I could have had with it. Suddenly I hear "Uno, dos, tres, catorce!" I look up. But instead of the silhouettes of the hippie wannabes bouncing around in the iPod commercial, I see my boys!

Oh, my God! They sold out!

Now...what I know about the iPod is this: It is a device that plays music. Of course their new song sounded great, my guys are doing great, but methinks I hear the footsteps of my old tape operator Jimmy Iovine somewhere. Wily. Smart. Now, personally, I live an insanely expensive lifestyle that my wife barely tolerates. I burn money, and that calls for huge amounts of cash flow. But I also have a ludicrous image of myself that keeps me from truly cashing in. (laughter) You can see my problem. Woe is me.

So the next morning, I call up Jon Landau -- or as I refer to him, "the American Paul McGuinness" -- and I say, "Did you see that iPod thing?" And he says, "Yes." And he says, "And I hear they didn't take any money." And I said, "They didn't take any money?!" And he says, "No." I said, "Smart, wily Irish guys." (laughter) Anybody...anybody...can do an ad and take the money. But to do the ad and not take the money...that's smart. That's wily. I say, "Jon, I want you to call up Bill Gates or whoever is behind this thing and float this: A red, white, and blue iPod signed by Bruce "the Boss" Springsteen. Now remember, no matter how much money he offers, don't take it!" (laughter)

At any rate...at any rate, after that evening, for the next month or so, I hear emanating from my lovely 14-year-old son's room, day after day, down the hall calling out in a voice that has recently dropped very low: Uno, dos, tres, catorce. The correct math for rock and roll. Thank you, boys.

(applause)

This band...this band has carried their faith in the great inspirational and resurrective power of rock and roll. It never faltered, only a little bit. They believed in themselves, but more importantly, they believed in "you, too." Thank you Bono, the Edge, Adam, and Larry. Please welcome U2 into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

* * *

In the house, were Stevie, Smokey, Aretha, and the original Soul Man.

God

I missed Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, Jerry Lee Lewis, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Friends, James Taylor, Smokey Robinson, Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne and Little Richard. But I’ll be sure to catch ‘em next time. I am sure they taught their children well.

Sharing Bread

There are a lot of people who can only talk about a business. They can’t even generate $1.

There are so many people who know how to charge people for comments and time. They can’t even produce one thing – not even inspiration.

Even more so, the words “honest business” would be hard to apply to any company.

The word "company" comes from Latin, symbolizing people being such good friends that you would share bread with them. Con = together. Panis = bread. To go along with one and share bread. To accompany.

More than one month has passed since I heard a woman’s story that humbled me.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

Salon - A French concept of a conversation in a room to elevate minds - outlook, knowledge, and understanding.

I didn’t know her story going into a Salon where I was a keynote speaker. So was she.

I was about to give a speech about Arts Patronage – how it is possible online for people to commission work from people who inspire them. Paying something beyond $0.99 to an Artist. Commissioning an inspired project.

I wish for a photo of an eagle flying over the Lagoon in Stanley Park of Vancouver. I will pledge $...obo. A birthday gift for...

For that Salon, in Halifax, we launched a prototype to register desired gifts--works of art, or projects--online.

Next in Vancouver, we are launching an online food gifting service for Starving Artists and Causes.

We are preparing for New York where people one day will go to an inspired music café to leave a gift for someone to pick up.

Someone you know left a gift for you @ .... click here for details. There might be $20 cash for your music or dinner.

Sound impressive?

* * *

I was looking into her shadow

I was humbled by another story. By a woman. By a farmer from the country. By someone ditched by her husband. By someone ditched by her business partner, who left behind $167,000 in spoiled product (she mortaged everything and had $2000 left). By someone who turned down a $64,000 a year job as a chef. By someone who helped Artists. By someone who was turned down by a midwifery school for being too old. By someone who travels more than an hour to St. Lawrence market on Saturdays to sell cheese. By someone who wasn’t bankable. By a Mennonite.

She cussed a few times during her speech – her words simple, authentic and humorous. For people in the city.

Online and offline she got people to pre-pay for cheese yet to be made. She got people to subscribe. She generated $250,000 in subscriptions. Her business now generates more than $1 million in revenue at a profit of $150,000. She donated $15,000 to Doctors Without Borders.

Spectacular.

As a business reporter many moons ago, and as an advisor to investors for many ventures…I can honestly say, I have never seen this before.

She did exactly what I was trying to do for inspired Art, but with cheese. For $200, you got a $250 voucher for any cheese she made in the next five years.

I want to note company shareholders are also called subscribers. She changed the meaning of subscription. She sold “futures.” Investors were consumers.

550 subscribers generated $250,000 to fund cheese next spring from five different milks.

http://www.monfortedairy.com/

In some ways, she was also selling prepaid Art. She saw her cheese-making as Art.

I don’t often say give it up for a business model. But today I do. I first heard it on October 8, 2009. One month later, I still can’t stop thinking about it.

She cast more than one shadow

It’s not even just the business model of Obamaesque public financing. It’s not even the economic efficiencies she created. This is a model for local produce, local foodies and local business.

She called it Community Shared Agriculture (CSA). In the crowd, randomly some of her customers were even there.

Chevalier n. ~ a distinguished cheese expert. A designation awarded by Confrérie des Chevaliers du Taste Fromage in France. An equivalent to a wine sommelier.

"Pecorino Toscano originates in Italy ( pecora is “sheep” in Italian). It's a pressed, cooked cheese with a natural rind whose history dates back more than 2,500 years. The Monforte Toscano, which has been aged six months, has a rustic, mottled rind that brings to mind an artifact just unearthed. Its paste is a pale straw colour, with warm tea tones near the rind. It exudes a pastoral well-being that engages the senses before you even take a bite. The texture is dense with some crumble, but remains moist. The flavours are soft and have an earthy depth, a sour cream richness and a subtle, sweet complexity with a bit of meatiness at the rind."

Her name is Ruth Klahsen from Monforte Cheese. Before this, she cooked for a theater in Stratford, earning $32,000 a year plus benefits. She turned down a 100% pay raise to start her business. That’s double pay. And for all her staff too. Before this, she could cook duck confit for $5.95 for Artists to eat well. “I felt like my art was helping their art. And if you double my salary if f—cks it all up (crowd laughs)…it messes it up because it means the confit of duck is $12.95.”

PS To be my own devil's advocate, Ruth really gave me a chance to contrast our business with hers. She creates an asset (cheese)…something tangible and tactile, that a buyer can taste. It’s also inspiring. Our business has less up front cost. But in our model, Art is harder to imagine, harder to taste, less tangible or tactile, arguably, less stable to make. But Art does have the potential to create more inspiring stories. To make things beautiful. It’s key for us to highlight these stories. Stories like Ruth's.

The (Un)Conventional

Convention is a comfort zone.

Convention is status quo.

Convention is recognizable. It's familiar.

Sometimes convention is only a probability.

* * *

Everytime i come to New York, i ponder the wisdom of convention.

So many new successful acts, concepts and ventures lack convention. Some new things might invent a new way of fusing convention. But for the most part, the lack of convention is what resonates.

In life, i often get advice - business or personal. But i often wonder if i accept it, is it because i like it, i am comfortable with it, or if someone less entrepreneural requires it.

I always wonder, will it even work?

The proof is not in the pudding. Magic works more often than convention.

More often than not, convention doesn't apply to everything or everyone. Convention doesn't work. It's merely a language we understand.

* * *

I see when convention works. It stabilizes, it communicates, it carries logic, it applies in theory. But convention doesn't stand out. Convention is stale.

It's statistical, to think, it might work, in this situation. But convention is not a guarantee. Not even in a game of baseball where there's a fixed set of rules. You can't always count on it. The unconventional needs to help a team win.

* * *

The loudest voices in life often carry the sound of convention. It makes what is unconventional truly refreshing. I think we felt this with Obama.

Voices of convention can also sometimes be voices of discrimination. When what people understand is the only way - it doesn't work for people who are different.

Convention might be made to rule. But rules might not apply to you and I. Rules apply to the rulers. People like them.

Voices often say things only applicable to them.

* * *

Convention is copied. Copying something already done. Something someone else did. Something you once did.

At its best, it can only be trendy, with an exciting new interpretation...perhaps you perform convention better than before...well, maybe now you're bordering on an unconventional cover song.

In a technology business, i often get sent links to read. It is amazing how this once formed one third of my inbox as a CEO. I've had to tell people i dont read links of what someone else has already done. I used to...but it never helped.

In my life, convention has never worked.

It's the unconventional that breaks through. It starts to get dangerous for me with investors and customers. They only understand convention. Convention means less risk to them.

But as someone who steers a ship to go somewhere new, i know deep in my heart, convention only causes a new venture to stay put. It brings nothing new, or exciting, to fans we depend on for success. It's stagant. It might not even be fully functional.

But when money is at stake, so much convention is expected to minimize a dire sense of risk. Music labels start to like formula. Reality shows start to grow like weeds.

* * *
Convention is lazy. Convention avoids what may be true, what may need to be done. Convention is what someone else says is your self-help.

The unfortunate thing is that not everyone benefits from convention and it's hard to measure who does. It's a format off-the rack, tailored for specific types of people.

i argue criminals are more successful than authorities who base things on convention. Criminals are forced to be unconventional to survive. Successful criminals aren't caught when authorities think conventionally. They have to think outside the box.

* * *

Some people are more privileged in the status quo to bear more fruit from convention. Some people are more resourced for conventions. Some people are more accepted with conventions.

But convention doesnt make you think, it keeps the status quo. Convention keeps you where you are.

In New York, there is always something new someone didn't think of, something that works, that makes you say, Cool.