Eye of the Tiger

I was at a party in LA in a cheesy club. Maybe all clubs are cheesy, but this one was especially so. It was one of those industry mixers for music people. At one time, these kinds of events were filled with energy. Now, with the collapse of the music business, they are very warmed over things. You shmooze and find out that no one is doing particularly well.

Three bands were in the lineup for the party. The first one was bad. The second one had practiced a lot. The third one was Crystal Method. I never made it to the Crystal Method. I was already back in my hotel.

Just before I left, I ran into someone who looked sort of interesting. Tall guy in his late 50s with in a jeans jacket with lots of silver rings on his fingers. A Keith Richards light kind of person. He was holding onto an acoustic guitar in a case. "Are you going to go on the stage and play?" I asked.

"I want to, man, yeah, but they won't let me. They say they can't squeeze me in."

"Too bad."

"Yeah, I wanted to play Eye of the Tiger. That's my song, man. Wanted to energize the crowd, you know."

It really was his song. I knew he wasn't b.s.'ing me. Later I looked up the song online. I found a picture of the guy playing guitar on a stage somewhere.

"That's a fun song," I said. "Would be fun to hear you play that. Just for old times sake, you know."

"Yeah, better than that stuff, man." He pointed to the band.

"They're OK, rhythm section is tight."

"Yeah, but, man, they don't know how to write a song."

He was raring to go. He wanted an audience. This guy had probably written over one thousand songs. That's what songwriters do. They write a ton. If they're lucky they get known for one or two of them. He probably had another 50 that were just as danceable and fun as Eye of the Tiger. For whatever reason, they never became hits.

What does a songwriter do when his time comes and goes? I once asked a similar question to the playwright Edward Albee when he was in a prolonged slump. No one was producing his new stuff. Maybe 20 people were there to see him talk. He shot me a look. He was right. It was a mean question. A man writes one of the greatest plays in the 20th century, only 20 people show up to hear him talk, and some young bratty punk who has no doubt never written a decent line in his life (me) is saying he's a has been. "You keep on writing plays," he said.

I'm sure the Eye of the Tiger guy is still writing songs. He's even co-written a book, Songwriting for Dummies. It's probably decent. Albee, through persistence and luck, was able to become fashionable as a playwright once again. I doubt that will happen to the Eye of the Tiger guy. Playwrights don't have to be young. He was right though. The band at that party didn't know how to write a song.

Fame is fleeting sure, but that doesn't mean that those that get their 15 minutes of fame are happy with just 15 minutes. I decided to look up the lyrics to Eye of the Tiger just out of curiosity.

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all in the eye of the tiger

No that isn't Cole Porter. But it doesn't have to be. "Rival" and "tiger" isn't even a soft rhyme. But this is rock music. The rules are different for rock. It's about the lift in the chorus. It's about the mood. And that hook, eye of the tiger. That's a damn good hook. The dude deserved his 15 minutes. He deserves the mailbox money that he gets every quarter of the year from that one song, enough money every year to give him a comfortable living. You have to be lucky. You have to be good. He was both.