Join The Band

Hey Lordy… (join the band, be good rascal…)

Hey join the band, be good rascal and join the band

Hey Lordy…

Join the band, be a good rascal and join the band

Oh huh oh ho ho ho

— Little Feat

Don’t you think the moment has come? To join the band, I mean? There are worse ways to spend your time, you know, and when Little Feat’s late and lightly lamented Lowell George asks, I believe we owe it to him to respond favorably – even four decades after the initial request.

So, even at this late date, I am inclined to take up Lowell’s invitation. However, one problem remains: which band should I join? It’s not as though I am flooded with offers; the plain truth is that I have had none. And believe me, this hurts, because these days I can really shred. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I’d be a major asset to any ensemble fixated on the rolling decade between 1965 and 1974, and, in the right group (i.e. one that: a) narrowed its focus to 1968 through 1972; and b) let me do exactly what I wanted), I could be great.

But at my advanced age, I have learned that delusion is risky and even sometimes fatal, and this forces me to face the possibility that no rock and roll outfit will have me. However, there’s more than one kind of band to join, so I’ve chosen to take a different course, affiliating more assertively with that band of brothers and sisters that form the global financial blogosphere. It’s not as though I haven’t contributed to their catalogue; the consistent production of these weeklies, and subsequent posting to the web is, in itself a testament to my longstanding affiliation with the blog bros. But, my friends, like so many other matters, it comes down to a matter of degree. I’m going to be doing more with them, and whether I become a full-fledged member of the group, or, like Darryl Jones, who has ably managed the base lines for the Rolling Stones for a period longer than founder Bill Wyman but has never achieved full membership, linger as a side man, remains out of my hands.

Please know that I don’t take this step without due consideration. I am solemnly aware that, over the baker’s dozen years that I’ve been pumping out these weeklies, missing nary a one, through sickness and health, triumph and tragedy, that you (the reader) and me (the scribe) have developed a sacred, unshakeable bond. It would nauseate me beyond measure to think that any step I could possibly take would weaken, let alone sever, these ties. Please know that you will continue to receive these missives, under the same timelines, and based upon the identical format – one that as you know, features my often futile efforts to gather what remains of my wandering wits.

That being stated, the chattering voices inside my head have convinced me that a wider audience beckons, and that I must answer the call. So if you observe me blogging, tweeting (under the rather generic handle of @KenGrantGRA) you will have two choices. You can consider this an unacceptable betrayal on my part (I will love you no less if you do), or you can give me a pass.

Oh yeah, there is one other alternative available to you: you can join the band, the @KenGrantGRA Band, accompanying me on my virtual journey through soaring arena anthems, destroyed hotel rooms, mud sharks and other such delights.

There’s room for you (and any friends you might wish to invite) on the @KenGrantGRA Tour Bus, and Cowboy Neil (at the wheel) will pull over and let you off at any point of your own choosing. Do me a favor and think about it, OK?

*******************

Whether you believe me or not, the plain truth is that I hate to write about politics. I find it an unproductive, loser’s game. I tell myself that I have held more or less to the discipline of only doing so through the filter of political impacts on risk conditions. But you’ll have to make your own judgments as to how well I’ve actually adhered to this protocol, and how rigidly I’ll stick to the discipline going forward.

One way or another, I believe that politics hover over current market conditions in a highly menacing fashion, so this week, and perhaps for a spell going forward, I must at least move towards the borderlands of my pledge. By my judgement, Trump had by far his worst political week since he put his hand on that bible, amid so much protest, almost exactly five quarters ago. Let’s dispatch with the easily analyzed events first. Paul Ryan announced he’s stepping down at the end of his term, and, any way you look at it, this is not a positive development for the Administration. I’ve always liked my Janesville boy, and think he was one of the very few competent members of Congress. He did his homework, did his work, and, through a number of hits and misses, actually got things done. And I ask this to anyone in favor of any part of Trump’s legislative agenda: where we’d be now without his steady hand? But he’s riding off, taking the certified Republican House Majority down to a slim 22. Also, and, ominously (at least in a symbolic fashion), his departure means that nearly half (10 out of 21) Congressional Committee Chairs have now stepped down, and, given that it’s only April, that number could rise.

More chilling was the raid on Trump lawyer Michael Cohen’s office and home by those fluffy fellows from the Office of the United States Attorney Southern District of New York. Acting on a referral from Special Counsel Robert Mueller, they forced their way into Attorney Cohen’s private professional and personal lairs, and seized pretty much anything that wasn’t nailed down. Subsequent reports indicate that he’d been under investigation by the Southern District for criminal activity for several months, but the timing and the methods turn my blood to ice. Federal prosecutors have many methods to procure information from investigation targets, most notably their subpoena powers, and raids are the most aggressive of these tools. Typically, this type of thing is only justified when the target is either a flight risk (which Cohen clearly was not), or information suggests he was committing serious crimes on an on-going basis. So I hope for all our sakes, that whatever impelled the G-Men to give Cohen the Manafort Treatment be disclosed in short order. And it better be good.

Because, and I state this more in sorrow than in anger, attorney client privilege is so embedded in basic human rights as to not even require inclusion in the Constitution. It dates back to the Elizabethan Era, and is a core part of British Common law upon which our Constitution is based. We are now headed down a very slippery slope on the treacherous terrain of civil liberties, and however much you may be enraged by Trump, I urge you to bear in mind that someday, you yourself might need a good lawyer, who, if we’re not careful, may have his professional materials seized. At which point they won’t be of any use to you. If this ever happens (and I pray that it doesn’t), it’ll probably be lights out for your case. Of course, this won’t apply to everyone. If you happen to be very rich, powerful and aligned with the appropriate forces, not only will your private realms not be raided, but you will have the prerogative to respond to subpoenas by simply decided what, of the information demanded, you choose to share.

The deal struck between the Southern District and the Special Counsel is such that anything the former uncovers that might be useful to the latter will be referred back to them. And here’s where I can at least plausibly make my case of tying the political to the financial. Anyone who had a shadow of a doubt that Mueller is going for the jugular should disabuse themselves of this fantasy at the earliest convenient opportunity. There’s an end game afoot here, set to play out over the immediate months ahead, and I believe it behooves the risk sensitive to bear this in mind as they seek to navigate through these choppy market waters. Because I don’t think the markets will much like the action, however it turns out.

But equities, notwithstanding these and other worrisome events, gathered themselves in gratifying fashion this past week, with the SPX bouncing jauntily off of its 200-Day Moving Average yet again, and now resting in the friendlier confines of its 50 and 100 day equivalents. One might be tempted to ascribe the bounce to giddiness about earnings, and I’ve seen estimates of growth rise to the dignity of ~20%. But I’d be careful here. A large contingent of big banks reported on Friday (JPM, Citi, Wells, PNC) and despite ALL of them beating both profit and revenue estimates by a comfortable margin, EACH sold off in the wake of their announcements by >2%. This suggests that the bar is very high for a paradigm involving strong earnings being followed by shares being bid up.

Volatility has indeed risen in the equity markets, but perhaps a little perspective here is in order. The combination of renewed price action after the vol paralysis of last year, and a rally that has increased the denominators associated with percentage moves, may be creating the illusion that the Equity Complex is in hyper-volatility mode. However, statistics offer a different story. While February and April brought some truly noteworthy action, across the course of 2018, we’re still only looking at a standard deviation of SPX returns in the mid to high teens, which is about the norm in the modern market era. So the equity market has become more volatile, but not alarmingly so, and while it is likely to continue to rise, in percentage terms, it’s important to remember that we’re pretty much at historical norms. And in terms of options volatility, last week’s selloff in the VIX took this benchmark to under 17.5 – right about its median for the lifetime of this eccentric index.

However, in a continuation of a highly vexing pattern, non-equity asset classes remain stuck in the volatility mud. The following chart, coming to you through the courtesy of those dedicated public servants at Goldman Sachs, Inc., illustrates what it looks like when one asset class awakes from a winters-long hibernation, while others remain in blissful slumber:

I’m not entirely sure what this correlation drop implies, but it doesn’t strike me as the kind of breakdown that the ghost of Tom Petty could reasonably describe as being “alright”.

Meanwhile, as cross-asset class correlations have migrated to decade plus lows, the story is quite different within the equity complex. Here, correlations, have spiked dramatically, again as illustrated by those talented graphic artists in residence at Goldman:

Among other things, one might wish to review other periods when stock correlations took an abrupt leap forward, and the intrepid among you might choose to superimpose equity index graphs on the image. I myself am either to frightened or have too much sensitivity for my readers to connect the dots here.

It may be the case that the jump in stock correlations is more easily explained than the drop in the cross-asset class correlation metric.

To wit: there’s a great deal to worry us in current affairs that has little to do with the relative fortunes of individual companies. For one thing, us Yanks got together with the French and Brits to lob some bombs into Syria this weekend. I don’t know what impact this will have on the markets, and won’t know till at least Sunday night, so I won’t opine upon this development.

More visible is the trade war of words currently under way. No one knows how this will resolve itself, but let’s just agree that it’s a risky proposition. Certainly, the Energy Markets have taken notice, bidding up Brent Crude to a 3-year high, and even the long-suffering, ag-heavy Continuous Commodity index has shown indications of higher pricing:

Strong Trade Winds: Crude And Commodities

Thus, as anticipated, we are in what I believe to be the early innings of a high impact information cycle. My best advice is to temper your investment enthusiasm and add a healthy measure of reactivity. There are opportunities developing, but they will require all of your talents and energies to capture them. You may also wish to place an extra focus on risk management.

So maybe it’s as good a time as any for me to step up my whole blogging game. Lowell George asked for our participation, but he’s been dead for nearly 40 years, and we need to make use of the tools that are at our current disposal. Please, in any event, don’t judge me too harshly for my expanded electronic footprint. And, if the spirit moves you, be a good rascal and join my band.

TIMSHEL