Looking Out Over Los Angeles

Sitting on the balcony of The Mondrian last night looking out over Los Angeles, I found myself still debating the place.

It really is the epitome of style over substance. It’s the town that gave us Hustler Magazine, bull testicle eating celebrities, and “Howard the Duck.” And yet, there, ten stories above the candlelit pool, there above Skybar and the idle chatter of Asia de Cuba, I was happy and smiling and excited by it all. By the opportunity. The possibility. (Not to mention the proximity to the glistening Pacific, the Santa Monica Mountains, and the beautifully desolate Palm Springs.)

Anyway, Michael Lockwood hasn’t called, and it’s 7:32pm PT. I like to assume he’s still jamming with Lisa Marie. Either way, I’ve burned him the best of my new demo, and will get it to him one way or another. Meanwhile, I wanted you to hear a little of it, cut I think it sounds pretty good (particularly for someone who was half in the bag).

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