A recent letter to the WSJ in response to a Theranos story:
I am a former biotech analyst. Several years ago, the chairman of a client company told me he had seen an interview with Elizabeth Holmes and thought she was terrific and his company would be interested in working with her. He wanted to know what I thought.
Here is what I did: I went to the Theranos website and looked at the management and board of directors. I immediately noticed two red flags: First, the lack of relevant experience in the CEO’s bio, and second, the board appeared to be decorated with famous names unrelated to Theranos’s business.
Next, I called the company and introduced myself to the person who answered the phone. I explained the reason for my call and that I would like to speak to Ms. Holmes or leave her a message. I was told that there was no mechanism by which I could do that or anyone else with whom I could speak. Red flag No. 3.
It took me 10 minutes and cost my client zero dollars. Any life-sciences analyst would have done exactly the same thing and undoubtedly reached a similar conclusion. No rocket science here. So pardon my skepticism at senior members of corporations testifying as to how much money they spent on due diligence. Perhaps it’s time for their shareholders to make a change.
Elizabeth Silverman
Prism Biomedical Research
New York
Starchild and I
What do Paul Stanley and I have in common? Chest hair? Makeup? Goofy stage banter? Nope. Not much, really, except for one formative event: at age 5, we were both pole-axed by Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto (Piano Concerto #5). Here’s PS waxing eloquent on the subject:
I was absolutely god smacked. To know that music could have that kind of power, although I was so young, the music had such heroic qualities to it and mammoth chords. To this day it’s some of the heaviest and most glorious melodies ever. So that really was my introduction to the gravitas that music could have and how emotive it could be. So at the core of music for me is Beethoven.
As for me, it was the first piece of music I fell in love with when Col. Renfield brought home a copy and put it on the ol’ console. The Beatles came a year or so later.
If you’re interested, there are many good recordings and a handful of great ones. But to my ears, Rudolf Serkin owned this work. Here he is with Leonard Bernstein and the NY Philharmonic competing with him for attention. The winners are we, the listeners.
More Old Stuff
Paul Revere and The Raiders wore Minutemen uniforms, acted silly (a requirement following A Hard Day’s Night and Help), had a teen idol in singer Mark Lindsey, and perhaps suffered overexposure as the house band on the weekly pop music TV show, Happening ’68. Earlier they were regulars on Dick Clark’s Where The Action Is, so they were all over television for a couple of years. All that made them easy to dismiss later as tastes changed and bands were expected to dress more like hippies and act more seriously, or at least like they were on harder drugs. That’s too bad. They were a great band, and the proof is in the grooves. There’s the Stonesy song posted above. Just Like Me , Steppin’ Out, and Hungry are among the best 60’s garage-rock songs. Good Thing gets more sophisticated with the Beach Boys vocal bit in the bridge, but the blistering instrumental track takes no prisoners. They earned their chops grinding it out in the Pacific Northwest club and teen-dance circuit, and you can hear it in Good Thing (no doubt some Raiders songs employed the Wrecking Crew, but this one sounds too unhinged to be the WC). Kicks features an unforgettable twelve-string riff, and its chorus is a textbook on how to write and produce a simple, effective hook. There’s nothing extraneous in that chorus, it just pounds in the hook. It also pulls the amazing stunt of being a cool anti-drug song. Does another even exist?
The Raiders ended up sort of like Max Baer post Beverly Hillbillies: once Jethro, always Jethro. They did manage one hit with a new beards-and-blue-jeans look, but it wasn’t any good (it’s called Indian Reservation, if you really must). Just how the ball bounces. This decade’s stars, next decade’s has-beens.
Speaking of Singing Families…
I’ll one-up the Osmonds with the Cowsills, who could be very good. The real-life inspiration for the Partridge Family series (and the Osmonds too, I’d guess), they were dismissed as bubble-gum by those who would be cool. And they were sometimes bubble-gum, but they could also do what I’d consider advanced baroque pop as well as anyone. No time to hunt down the hidden gems on YouTube today, but they had some very good songs (and plenty of cheese) in addition to their hits. Below is a live-TV version of their first big hit, preceded by the studio version for reference. Note how well they nail their vocal harmonies live. It’s a pretty amazing feat.
R.I.P. Chawlie
You’ve all heard, but there has to be a shrine here. There was nothing quite like the Stones firing on all cylinders. The Faces tried, but couldn’t entirely replicate it. Some of that mojo came from Charlie. As much a musician as a drummer, I’d pick him over thousands who might be technically better.
Last One, I Promise
Predictably, they slay this cornball classic.
All In The Fingers
What happened to “aw shucks” country-boy virtuosi like these guys, Glen Campbell, and Roy Clark? Are they still out there? Are they all just session guys since no one like them could lauch a solo career in Nashville these days? But would there even be sessions for such players? I hear nothing in current country music that would require this level of musicianship.
Don’t try any of this at home.
Little Douche Coupe
Crudely done, but some telling snippets from the luckiest mediocre singer to latch on to talented relatives.
Favorite comments: “Pet Sounds was entirely my idea. I told Brian ‘write something brilliant and timeless, man’…so I deserve most of the credit”-Mike Love; “I never trust a man with that many rings”; “Mike Love, the original Douche Coupe”; “Mike Love, still dancing like your creepy uncle since 1961.”
Bull Island Soda Pop Festival
If you enjoy failed-rock-festival porn, check this out. Apparently things got so dark that even the reigning Dark Lords of rawk and Satan’s representatives on earth, Black Sabbath, felt compelled to cancel.
Young Man Original
Having just re-watched The Kids Are Alright (thanks, Makerbot), I thought I’d post the original of this song in case any of you bastards are unfamiliar. I purchased Live At Leeds in the early 70’s and for years just assumed YMB was a Townsend song. I didn’t hear this original until the early 80’s.
The Who weren’t the first to do a heavy cover of Mose Allison. Acid-rockers Blue Cheer and blues-rocker Johnny Winter recorded “Parchman Farm,” a song about the infamous Mississippi Delta prison camp (Mose was from Mississippi). Below is the Blue Cheer version, which for some reason they changed to “parchment” (to skirt copyright?) Although I’m not a huge Blue Cheer fan, they’re interesting enough for a separate post, if for no other reason than they were considered the loudest band in existence. They also get credit for representing the dark, aggressive underbelly of the late 60’s San Francisco scene. Some believe them to be the first heavy metal band, and they’re probably right. Hell’s Angels in particular liked them. One Angel said that when Blue Cheer played, the air turned to cottage cheese. I think that was his way of saying they were really loud, although acid might have been involved.
Not-so-fun fact: Vernon Presley did time at Parchman.
You can hear a lot of Mose (and Chet Baker) in Alex Chilton, who put me on to both of them. My upbringing was jazz-deprived.