Rant #2,301: Everyday I Read the Book

My allergies are really bad today, and they are affecting my eyesight, so if you find several spelling errors in here, you'll know why, and I will try to correct all of them later, when, hopefully, my eyes are working a bit better than they are now, just shy of 4:30 a.m. in the morning.

Anyway, when was the last time you read a good book?

And I mean, actually read a book, not an ebook or listened to the reading of one on your car radio?

Personally, I love to read, but I don't often have the time to sit down and actually read a real, honest to goodness book, but sometimes, you just have to make the time.

Such was the case for "Me, the Mob and the Music" by Tommy James, which has been out for 10 years now but which I finally got around to reading.

The story is kind of a cross between "Jersey Boys" and "Goodfellas," as young Tommy Jackson, from Niles, Mich., makes his way up the ladder of the music business, finally reaching the top as Tommy James with his backing band, various incarnations of the Shondells.

Helping to propel him to the top of the music business in the mid 1960s through the mid 1970s was not only a bushelful of hits--"I Think We're Alone Now," "Mirage," "Crystal Blue Persuasion," "Crimson and Clover" and "Sweet Cherry Wine" among them--but one Morris Levy, the head of New York-based Roulette Records, a successful record label that was also a front for the mob.

James had a love/hate relationship with Levy, who had his fingers in so many nefarious things that you would think his hand would literally fall off from the pulling of his fingers every which way, and James talks about being stiffed on millions and millions of dollars in royalties during his most prolific music period by Levy--and he could do nothing about it, simply because he didn't want to have his head blown off by the mob.

All through those years, there were affairs, pills, booze and lots of other stuff to pacify the frustrated musician, and James pulls no punches when he blames both Levy and himself for his ups and downs during that period of his life.

The book weaves the reader through the inner workings of the mob, with all the rub outs, threats and double dealing that went on, with Levy at the pulse of seemingly everything.

James is on the straight and narrow now, but he himself was headed to self destruction, and he describes how he rebounded from all of that stuff to become a satisfied human being.

The book is a fun read, and you don't have to be a music fan to enjoy this book, as it takes you on a ride with James and many of the skunks and casualties of those days.

For years, this story has been rumored to have been bound for either the silver screen or Broadway, but since nothing seems to be happening in the imminent future, I would read this book now and wait for the other stuff to happen.

The other book I am going to recommend, but not has highly, is "The Rhino Records Story: Revenge of the Music Nerds" by Harold Bronson, one of the founders of the Rhino Records imprint, which took the bull by the horns and became America's top oldies outlet.

Like in the James book, the Rhino story is filled with a bunch of colorful characters, who took a dream, were at the right place at the right time, and even though they stumbled a bit in the process, were able to come away with a true rags to riches story about American know-how and tenacity.

Bronson and Richard Foos, among many others, had a vision that oldies music from the 1950s and 1960s should be as cherished and prized as current music--then the 1970s--was, and they impressed both themselves and others with their knowledge, know how and pinache that all came from an actual, single Rhino Records store on the outskirts of Hollywood, which soon became two stores, and later became a burgeoning record label.

And it all started with cutout records, used records and bootlegs!

Bronson does not leave one stone untouched in his more than 300-page book, and often times, I found that I was getting lost when reading it, trying to remember who the numerous people were that helped Rhino become successful, as Bronson rarely uses last names beyond the first reference, so you have the Larrys and the Richards and the Johns, but it is often difficult to figure out just who he is talking about.

And again, it seems that Bronson feels the need to cram as much information into the pages of the book as possible, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but at times, detracts from the basic rags to riches story of the label, probably the first American record label to hold oldies music in such high esteem.

Nonetheless, I would recommend the book because it is a true American story, features a number of colorful characters, and it is an informative read.

No, there won't be a Broadway musical or feature film based on this book, but you can't go wrong on a label that has put out music from all over the music spectrum, including that of Tommy James, so the books kind of intersect each other in an interesting way.

So, if you haven't sat down with a good book lately, here are two tomes that might suit your fancy.

Both are fun reads on different levels.