It was indeed a rough week — for musical geniuses whose contributions changed the landscape forever. And, for that matter, their fans.
We lost two of them. Which, given their ever-dwindling supply, we could ill-afford. Troubled souls both, from opposite ends of the cultural spectrum. One a QB/Prom King spawned from the most bleached corners of the Eisenhower ‘50s; the other a stone cold brutha. Both, it must be noted, found their early voices in the temples of God.
Each spent decades in a mental prison which they could not escape. But not before blowing our minds with the divine sounds conceived in their tortured craniums.
It is our duty to honor them. And in doing so, I will follow the protocols of written English and migrate from left to right.
So, first there’s Brian. About whom I am somewhat ambivalent. While recognizing their singular sonic greatness, the Beach Boys are not my particular jam. Among other matters, their lyrics never came close to matching their musical daring. And some of them are just bad. Nobody, for instance, with two brain cells to rub together has ever pondered what everybody in this country would do if they, you know, had an ocean.
But God O’Mighty, those compositions. And their arrangements. To me, their masterpiece is “Good Vibrations” (the chart-topper from our titular record: “Smiley Smile”), which features, among other matters (and depending upon how you count them), no fewer than a dozen key changes. And it all comes together with harmonies, which, if episodically matched, were certainly never surpassed. And thus, even though the mood seldom strikes me to dial up the Beach Boys, I salute them, and, particularly Brian, nonetheless.
Moving on, there’s Sly. And – not gonna lie – his last exit hit me hard. He began with a groove that was so fly it could only have been bestowed upon him by the heavens, and went on to meld so many musical genres, so flawlessly (at least for a while) – that he nearly put the earth off its axis.
I can think of no one, though, who squandered his potential more quickly and more thoroughly to the demons of mental illness and drug addiction than him. Yes, there are cats like Jimi and Kurt, chicks like Janis. But they at least had the decency to die in their primes, leaving only memories of them shining at their brightest. Sly, on the other hand, hung around. For > 5 decades, enduring homelessness, popping up occasionally — in tragic caricature of what he once was, and always leaving us wanting more.
Case and point: I went to see him – at the long forgotten but once magnificent Lone Star Café, situated on 5th Avenue, at the North End of the Village. Across from the Parsons School of Design.
The year, I think, was 1984. I saw that Sly (and The Family Stone) were playing and figured I’d head on down. I was hoping, but not, per se, expecting, that he would play some of the old stuff. And, when the show started, I was anything but disappointed. The band was the same. Even wore the identical outfits from their Woodstock gig – fringed multi-colored jumpsuits and all. Predictably, they launched immediately into the standard arrangement of the magnificent “Dance to the Music” and from there, played a set straight out of 15 years earlier.
An hour in, Sly bounced off the stage and out of the club altogether. It didn’t take much ciphering to determine where he was headed — to his trailer for some, er, refreshment. The band must’ve thought the same, Continued jamming for at least 10 minutes before they took a notion that he wasn’t coming back.
So, they began to wind down the song, and, presumably, the set. Whereupon Sly re-emerged and finished what he’d started. Seemed about right at the time. And I was glad I went. But as always with him, I departed wanting more.
This was, after all, the dude that had caused a riot in Chicago’s Grant Park in the summer of 1970, where 75,000 fans expressed their disappointment at his non-appearance in less than peaceful ways.
And, in part, it catalyzed our other titular album title – “There’s a Riot Goin On”, which found Sly, if not at his peak, then at least at the tail end of his brief innings on the mountain top.
It happens to be my favorite Sly record, and its thematic motifs remain relevant in today’s frenzy.
Because as everyone is aware. There’s still a riot goin’ on. It began in Los Angeles – where both Brian and Sly lived – and died — but has spread to other jurisdictions. Trump had dubiously called in Federal Troops, which I must admit I prefer not to see on civilian city streets, as it gives me the squicks. Somewhat ironically, this is all transpiring contemporaneous to the 250th anniversary of the formation of the United States Army, as authorized by the Continental Congress on 14 June 1775. A month later, they appointed George Washington Commander in Chief.
But, as I observe, one’s reaction to all this is entirely driven by the narrative one carries into it. One side believes it is a criminal assault on civil liberties and a virtual weigh station to Totalitarianism. The other feels that if federal property is being attacked (which it is) that bringing the Army is fair game.
I find the whole thing wearisome, so will offer little more about it.
But, transitioning to more pertinent matters, if we have established that there is indeed a riot goin’ on, it’s fair to ask is there a rally goin’ on?
Well, there was before that little dustup in the Middle East (more about this below). The tape had shown some recent vigor. And why not? Legacy data flows have been strong. CPI/PPI clocked in below expectations. And even if this annoyingly caused Trump to call – yet again – for a 100 bp Fed Rate cut – so as to reduce the vig on all that paper he’s gonna drop on the markets in the next little while – it certainly beats the alternative. On a related note, the deemed-to-be-critical Treasury Auctions at the long end of the curve generated a robust bid from all corners of the earth.
Earnings stragglers continue — on balance, to please, with Oracle in particular rising > 10% on the strength of strong anticipated revenue flows. Heck, even the long-zombified IPO market is showing signs of re-animation, with gadgety financial offerings from Chime Financial (meta banking app) and Circle (crypto something or other) coming out of the gates in strong fashion.
In result, our equity indices, which entered the quarter in dismal slump configuration, were fixing to exit it with double digit tailwinds.
Then Israel struck. I don’t have much to offer in the way of moral or geopolitical erudition on this topic. Iran has made it clear since the ’79 Revolution that it has no fonder wish than to blow Israel off the map – particularly with its own people doing the blowing, and it is thus not a question of if the former was gonna nuke the latter, but rather of when said nuking would transpire. As such, my hunch is that the latter had put much thought into the timing and nature of its prophylactic response. Iran must have been pretty close to lobbing a few in the Southwestern direction – at the land where all three Judeo-Christian religions are said to converge.
That there has been not much hue and cry from the Usual Suspects about Israel’s murderous, genocidal ways (even Congress threw in some bi-partisan support) I take as a further sign that the move was viewed, in general consensus, as pre-emptively defensive.
About all that is certain, though, is that the operation blew the LA riots right out of newsfeed visibility.
But at this point, and in terms of market impact, it’s largely jump ball. Risk Assets did indeed sell off in the wake of the revelation, but in orderly, undramatic fashion. But Crude Oil has rallied ~10% in the aftermath, and may be headed much higher, which ain’t good.
Israel, which deeply telegraphed its military intentions in the runup to the action, has been very clear that this is not a one and done, but rather an extended operation, likely to continue, at minimum, for several weeks. Iran, for its part, has vowed terrible retribution, sent hundreds of their sucky drones towards Tel Aviv, but managed to toe tag all of three locals in the process.
Matters, thus, could escalate beyond control. With unpredictable market consequences. Rational Behavior Theory would clearly point towards the holding of risk fire until an increment of clarity emerges. As heavy metal continues to drop on the cradles of Civilization, our Central Bank will lay its latest rate setting wisdom on us. I am not expecting any drama here. Arguments are ascendant it’s time for some cutting, but I take The Under on that. A reduction by the Fed will not cure what ails us (massive uncertainty in the domestic and geopolitical universe) and we’d be better off holding our axes in abeyance until such time as they are truly wanted. I am nearly certain the FOMC feel same as I do.
Elsewhere, members of Congress are being murdered, tens of thousands rally against tyranny, and yet another Boeing plane dropped out of the sky, or, more precisely, never made it fully into the air.
And, on the 250th anniversary of the creation of our army (coinciding with 79th Birthday of its current Commander in Chief), there was a parade featuring enough military hardware on display to moisten the deep brown eyes of Josef Stalin. We don’t hold many such events – the last two of easy recollection being in 1946 and 1991 – each, significantly, to celebrate military victories. I am unaware of a similar setup at present.
It all makes one feel both eerie and nostalgic. And I yearn for a time when the world, or, at any rate, my life, was simpler.
When the Beach Boys were crooning about Little Deuce Coups and Sly was taking us higher. Both are gone now. But riots abide. As will we.
And if at all possible, wearing a Smiley Smile while doing so. Because the future, in all forms, is unknowable. As Sly might tell investors, sometimes we’re right, but we can be wrong.
It’s what makes it all the great game it is.
TIMSHEL