Driving home to "Lawn Guyland" the day after graduating from Bucknell U. in Lewisburg, PA and blasting progressive rock station WNEW on the radio, I was struck by one of those other-worldly, pull-over-to-the curb musical moments.
I was on cloud nine (and still am!). I replayed what she told me over and over again: "You think I am, but you are." Carole King told me I am my own inspiration, the greatest advice from the ultimate source.
In 1969 I went to Woodstock. The girls all around me were going crazy for the musicians on stage. If any of those players had come down off the stage and walked through the crowd they would have had girls clinging to them like dryer sheets on a pair of freshly dried socks. I wanted that.
The thing with Bruce, and any artist like Bruce, is that the most important thing is the song, getting across the meaning and the character of the song. Bruce is almost like an actor in that he creates a character for each of his songs.
Facing a long solo road trip from Pittsburgh to New Haven this November (unless you count Bob the Chihuahua sleeping in the back seat) I seized the opportunity to finally choose the music and bought Adele's 21 CD.
"I think the culture today is very, very different from what it was in the '60s, and I feel lucky that I grew up at a time when I had these very strong female role models. They were strong women, but their power was very much connected to their creativity and their voice."
If you think Kirshner was just some guy who Paul Shaffer impersonated, you would be very wrong. He was a central figure in the Brill Building era that brought the world lots of the most sublime popular music of the 20th century.
Collins remembers, "When I was twelve or thirteen The Beatles' first album came out. They had some Motown and early soul record covers, like the Stones did. This is the music that I kind of lived my life to."