[FM] Lefsetz Letter and House Concert Update

[BBP23 at aol.com]

For those of you who attended our concert on Saturday night with Wendy  
Waldman, you will completely agree with this amazing Bob Lefsetz letter (of The  
Lefstez Letter) I've copied below. For those of you who missed the  concert, 
Bob's letter truly captures the experience, and the "why" we  do this... he 
really "gets it", even the sense of community we share... 
 
and Wendy was incredible. She is a brilliant, passionate force, from the  
opening chord to the last standing ovation. Her songs take you up to peaks and  
then back down deep inside yourself, and you are transported to  that heavenly 
place that truly feels in harmony. It was an amazing show... 
 
Our next show with DAVID ROTH will be an incredible experience as well...  
David is a master storyteller, with his unique songs, moving stories, and  
powerful singing and subject matter. 
 
CONCERTS  AT THE BODIE HOUSE 
in  Agoura Hills 
presents 

DAVIDROTH 
_www.DavidRothMusic.com_ (http://www.davidrothmusic.com/)   
Saturday,  May 13, 2006 at 8PM 
Bring  Mom for a special pre-Mothers Day Date!! 
Donation: $15  (All proceeds go to the musician) 
Dessert/Appetizer  Bar (food contributions appreciated)
RSVP:818-621-8309 or _BodieHouse at aol.com_ (mailto:BodieHouse at aol.com)  
(Directions given upon RSVP)  
_WWW.BodieHouse.com_ (http://www.bodiehouse.com/)  

"The Lefsetz Letter"  by Bob Lefsetz 
Subject: The House  Concert

"The hardest part of looking back is the mistakes are all your  own
It's harder to say that in those letters home"

"Letters  Home"
Wendy Waldman

I thought about going to Coachella.  But  there was a dearth of e-mail and 
phone calls.  The buzz of the last two  years was absent.  So, when Wendy 
Waldman told me her house concert was  just about sold out, I made a commitment, not 
wanting to be left out.   Then, realizing a no-show at a $15 a head event 
would make a difference, that  blowing off the gig would make me look like an 
ass, the deal was sealed.   No Coachella for me this year.  Since that took care 
of Saturday
night  and Sunday evening I had to be in town for my KLSX show.

Have you ever  been to Agoura Hills?  Sounds exotic, I know.  Like a ranch 
community  out in the highlands, where stoners escape the fast lane and smoke 
dope.   But in reality, Agoura Hills is just another bedroom community, with a 
longer  commute from downtown L.A., or wherever it is in town you drive to  
every day.  But if you want a part of the American dream, if you want to  own 
your own home, if you want your own piece of land, you plunk your roots  down 
in these
far-flung enclaves.  You don't want to live worse than  your parents.  You 
convince yourself that things are working out.   That your life is going in the 
right direction.

Exposure to mainstream  media would give you the illusion that we live in a 
land where Britney and  Lindsey and even Bono rule.  That they're all everybody 
thinks about.   That we all watch "Entertainment Tonight" hoping to catch a 
glimpse of  Hollywood royalty.  But this is not  true.  The Internet has not 
only made celebrities fodder for ridicule, it  has allowed all the supposed 
marginal people to band together and not only  express displeasure at what 
the dictators say they
should believe, but form  new scenes.  Reading the mainstream press you'd 
think that  that's all people are interested in, the mainstream.  But the 
mainstream  means less than it ever did before.

I'd like to tell you that the Bodie  House was a giant spread.  The kind you 
envision when you think of the New  World, i.e., California. But the Bodie 
House was closer to  one of those cookie cutter edifices from "Knot's Landing".  
Not even in the  category of "Desperate Housewives".  But the building doesn't 
matter, but  who lives inside.  Inside lives Renee.  Who is PASSIONATE 
about  music.  She told the story of going to some conference in Texas where  
singer-songwriters plied their wares 24/7.  I couldn't listen to wannabes  
for a fraction of that time, but Renee believes.  Which is probably why  she  
was holding this show in her  home.  It certainly wasn't for the money.  That 
all went to the  performers.

My name was right there on the list.  Thank god I  attended.

And after laying down thirty bucks for Felice and myself,  Renee's husband 
whispered we should get seats, because the show was going to  sell out.

The performance space was their living room.  The kind of  place that 
normally held a couch and a TV.  Row after row of fold-up chairs  were laid out. 
Eight wide.  With less leg room than you find on Southwest  Airlines.  We claimed 
two seats in the second row and laid down our  accoutrements.  In the real 
world I'd be worried about theft, but not in  the Bodie House.

And then we went into the kitchen/dining room.   They said bringing 
refreshments was optional, but most people arrived with a  dish.  I was confronted with 
enough desserts to keep a small child high on  sugar for two years.  Much of 
which was still waiting to be consumed when  we left almost four hours later.  
In an era when water is five bucks a  bottle and the food at shows is close 
to 
inedible, this was quite a  head-turner.  Oh, there was water and wine too.  
In endless  supply.

And after relieving myself, having followed the  computer-generated signs to 
the bathroom, the lights flashed and we took our  seats.

Now you've got to get this.  How far are we from the  stage?  Five feet?

Well, not a stage.  A performance  space.  A small cleared area at the front 
of the room.

Wendy  squeezed by, and believe me, there wasn't an inch to spare.  And her 
buddy  Kenny Edwards slinked his six foot plus frame through too.  And then, 
while  he sat on a chair and accompanied her, Wendy stood up at the mic and sang 
the  above song, "Letters Home".  God, I'm getting a shit-eating grin just  
thinking about it.

The first time I saw Wendy Waldman, at the Bitter End,  back in 1974, after a 
song or two she said "There's a guy in the second row who  knows every word." 
That was me.  I was worried about being exposed again,  so I tried to keep my 
mouth from working, but I couldn't.

Wendy Waldman  had a five album run on Warner Brothers in the seventies. Then 
she made one  record for Epic and another for Cypress, distributed by A&M, in 
the  eighties.  That was DECADES ago.  But I still play her music.   Because 
it touches me.  It reeks of honesty in a land where that word  doesn't figure. 
Where Presidents lie, never mind people who run record  companies. There's no 
authenticity in a world where it's truly impossible  to fake it. There's a 
major disconnect.  To the point where people  sign off, figuring they don't fit 
in. But, like I said, these people are now  bonding together via the Internet. 
 Maybe not in Coachella numbers, but  there's a scene.  And it's based ONLY 
on music.

You know how you go  to the show and they play none of the music you want to 
hear?  This was not  that kind of gig.  Not only did Wendy play "Vaudeville 
Man" and "Mad Mad  Me", she played stuff like "Back By Fall" and "Waiting For 
The Rain".  It  was as if she visited me in my bedroom, when I couldn't fall 
asleep, and played  my favorite tracks, just for me.

But it wasn't just for me.  It was  for about a hundred people.  They didn't 
look anything like those in the  magazines.  They were my generation.  And 
we're getting old.  The  high school babes now have lines in their faces.  Looks 
are no longer where  it's at.  It's solely who you are inside.  Who you are is 
all that  counts.

I was stunned just shy of an hour in when Wendy said she was  gonna take a 
break and then come back for a SECOND SET!  In an era when you  pay ten dollars 
plus for a shitty ninety minute movie I was going to get two  hours of music 
for FIFTEEN BUCKS?

And when the lights flashed again, and  we sat down, we were regaled by not 
only Wendy and Kenny, but Dan Navarro,  cousin to the famous Dave, but known by 
students of music as one half of Lowen  & Navarro.  How sweetly he sang 
backup vocals on such numbers as the  Wendy co-written "Save The Best For Last".

But they weren't saving the  best for last.  The whole show was the best.

VH1 would have you  believe, or DID have one believing, when it used to be 
about music, in the last  century, that music is about fame.  The light burns 
brightly briefly and  then you pack your dreams in a trunk and become like 
everybody else, a working  stiff.  This is true for some, but then there's this 
category of person  known as a "musician".  This person doesn't play for money, 
or fame, but  because they HAVE TO!

Dan Navarro gave me a ride home from some club in  West L.A. ten years back.  
He was driving  a Prelude past its prime.  This was AFTER Pat Benatar covered 
his and Eric  Lowen's "We Belong".  What was he living on NOW?  But if you 
saw him  in this house in Agoura Hills he looked happier than Fat Bastard from 
Exxon who  netted close to a billion dollars in salary.  Because life isn't 
about  money, but experiences.  It's not how you look, but how you FEEL!  And  
these musicians playing so close to me, despite being on the downhill side of  
life, they felt GREAT!  And although there might not be that much sand left  in 
the top of their hourglasses, they're making the most of what's left.   
They're wiser from the experience.  They've got things to do, things to  accomplish.

Well, there was a similarity to the people playing on arena  stages.  Sitting 
in the audience you had  a burning desire to be  THEM!  But not because of 
the fame, but the TALENT!  And because they  have a community.  In an era of 
loneliness, the musicians, the players,  they're there for each other.  They 
might not be rich in dollars, but in  friendships, they're BILLIONAIRES!

When the show was over, Wendy told me  it was happening.  Her old discs were 
moving.  There was more interest  in her music than there'd been in eons.  All 
because of the Internet.   She was more excited about music than EVER!

When we walked out into the  brisk West  Valley air just shy of  midnight 
Felice and I were laughing.  Not believing the experience we'd  just had.  
Wanting to tell everybody about it, but knowing they'd never  really get it.  
Because they had no frame of reference.  Music had  grown so far beyond this.  It's 
them versus us now.  It hasn't been  about togetherness for oh-so-long.  It's 
about visuals, not  sensations.  But there's no sensation like having your 
heart warm up as you  involuntarily start singing a song.  The rest of the world 
falls away. It's  just you, your best self, reveling in how fucking great it 
is to be alive. In  this world with so many delights.
_www.BodieHouse.com_ (http://www.BodieHouse.com)  
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