Clive Davis & Me

I was an inch from the Clive Davis last night, but I didn’t make a move. I just shuffled by him, humbled and silent.

Mr. Davis — legendary Svengali to Bette Midler, Whitney Houston, and Alicia Keys, to name a few — was at Fez to celebrate his new singer, Llamya. Freshly signed to J Records, she did have a great voice, like Sade with more of a worldbeat thing. She covered “Redemption Song,” almost predictably, and ran thjrough a handful of her own songs. Her band was amazing, so enthusiastic.

Jen doesn’t understand why I get a little pissy at these industry showcases. She’s excited just to be there, because for her, being there was always the goal. But for me, being the artist there — the one on stage, the one being celebrated, the one in the epicenter — is the goal.

So to watch a bunch of suits and hipsters salivating over whether or not J. Lo is going come, well, it just makes me kinda’ mad that all the excitement isn’t over me. And it’s so difficult to be just inches away from success: to be playing the same venues, to be walking the hallways of MTV and Sony.

On the upside, I met Felice Ecker, who started Girlie Action, one of the better know PR firms in town, nearly ten years ago. Meeting her was like meeting Susan Blonde of Susan Blonde, Inc. They’re PR legends, and they’re definite fans of music. And for a guy who desperately needs advocates, meeting the Queens of Advocacy (all be it for a price) is exciting.

See, I don’t hate the entertainment machine in general, I just hate it for not serving me.

So… another night out, third in a row.

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