On Our Few Moments In The Tower Of Song

Last Thursday I spent the evening with Leonard Cohen. Along with witnessing the concert of a lifetime, I was reminded of my own place in our collective dance in the service of music. Admittedly Cohen was on stage and I was in the audience. But thanks to superbly crafted lyrics delivered by Cohen and his masterful band, I felt that I was as connected as if we were at a far more intimate gathering.

Every day we get caught up in the trends, triumphs and tribulations that make up the drama of the modern music industry. But that night, I was reminded that none of it matters unless it is in service of  the music.

"I'm just paying my rent every day
in the tower of song."
 - Leonard Cohen

Like most who will read this, I am blessed to be surrounded by wonderful music on a regular basis. Each time an artist that I work with brings an audience to tears or to their feet in applause, I admit to a tingle and allow myself a brief second of pride that I helped in some small way to make this wonderful moment happen.

Whether we are artists, business people or technicians, if we choose to work in this field, music is, or should be, our raison d'etre; our master and our muse.  When we forget that, we do so at our own peril (the major labels come to mind), for music will always triumph in the end.

Thursday's show was in the same Palace Theater where I saw my very first concert… 

(Quicksilver Messenger Service and The Electric Elves) now beautifully restored as the crown jewel of a downtown Waterbury, CT determined to find its former glory.  But I was not the show's agent or the promoter. I had no friend playing in the band or working backstage. I had absolutely nothing to do with Leonard Cohen's concert other than as a ticket holder and fan. And it was wonderful.

Without the usual thoughts cluttering our minds (Is the act late?  Are they happy?  Is the show sold out?), my wife Katy and I watched Cohen and troupe deliver a show that was both a career retrospective and a fresh interpretation.  He was thoughtful, playful and very respectful of the attention showered on him.  He appeared transformed and we were blessed to be along for the ride.

How lucky are we to work in an industry that has the potential to deliver transformative moments on a regular basis?  And how important is it that we never loose sight of that gift?

After the show I spent a few hours with my childhood friend Keith Mahler and his wonderful wife Jane.  Like me, the music bug bit him early. While still in high school Keith started promoting concerts and managed a band signed to a major label.  He went on to make his money in commercial real estate, but  35 year's later he's never stopped promoting great music. Once bitten (or should I say smitten), there is no cure.

I understand that my adoration may appear excessive to those uninitiated in the cult of Cohen. But hopefully you do not have to dig too deep to remember your own similar experience.  If not, or if its been too long, you must quickly travel as far as you need to and pay whatever you have to pay to experience music that really matters to you. It will remind you of why you do what you do every day; and I'm absolutely certain that it will help you do it better.