After many years in Marin County, Calif., Brigden settled down with his wife in Santa Rosa in 2001. Outside of music, he developed a passion for winemaking and cycling — his grapes were used to make an exclusive Owl Ridge cabernet, and he rode a vintage Bianchi steel-framed bike from Italy.
"It's been a crazy and wonderful 33 years of rock 'n' roll," Satriani said in a statement following Brigden's death. "I've never worked so hard, played so hard, laughed and cried so hard, made so much music and had so many worldwide adventures, and all with Mick by my side."
Together in the late '70s, Brigden and Pustilnik launched the Columbia-distributed label Wolfgang Records, signing Eddie Money as their first artist.
He also directed tours for Dylan and the Stones, but he's best known for the last three decades managing guitarist Joe Satriani. Throughout his career, which spanned over 50 years, Brigden served as manager and road manager for the likes of Humble Pie, Peter Frampton, Taj Mahal, Morrison and Carlos Santana.
He added, "He was the ultimate music business mentor. Honest, tough, nurturing, hardworking, respectful, tenacious, insightful, he was all of things and more. Throughout his illustrious career he worked the biggest and the best, but always knew it was important to be kind, be respectful, be cool and do things the right way." I learned so much about how to be a good person from Mick.
Brigden's wife, Julia Dreyer Brigden, told the Press Democrat that her husband was on the property digging a grave for the family's pet dog when the accident happened.
Brigden is survived by his wife Julia, son Jack, step-daughter Jessica and grandson David Merz. Donations in Brigden's name may be made to The Humane Society of Sonoma County.” />
Mick Brigden, a tour manager who worked with artists including The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and Van Morrison, died on Sept. He was 73. 5 after an accident at his home in Santa Rosa, Calif.
In the early 2000s, they sold the business, and Brigden founded MJJ Management, with Satriani as his only client. When Graham died in 1991, Brigden and Pustilnik banded together with 13 other BGP employees to buy 90 percent of the company, leaving 10 percent for Graham's two sons.
He soon met Bill Graham and started working for the legendary rock concert promoter, eventually leading the management division of Bill Graham Presents (BGP) alongside Arnie Pustilink. and became their road manager. In the late 1960s, he met Felix Pappalardi of the band Mountain, relocated to the U.S. Born in 1947 in Southend-On-Sea, England, Bridgen moved to Toronto at age 19 to pursue a career in graphic art.

20 to the Supreme Court of New York, states that Dylan and Levy signed a contract in 1975 guaranteeing the latter 35% of all royalties and most other benefits for the 10 songs they wrote together, seven of which appeared on the "Desire" album, including the single "Hurricane." It contends that requests for compensation for the Levy-cowritten songs as part of the Dec. The lawsuit, filed Jan. 2020 catalog sale were denied by both the Dylan camp and Universal Music Publishing Group.
The estate's lawyers, representing Levy's widow, Claudia Levy, are asking for $1.75 million as their fair share of the catalog sale, plus $2 million in punitive damages. They arrived at the $1.75 million figure by looking at the reported $300 million sale and then breaking it down by the estimated 600 songs that are pat of the overall Dylan catalog, and figuring what the share would be for the 10 that Levy co-wrote.
Levy does not share any ownership of the songs in question, despite being guaranteed the 35% royalty rate for any income that they generate. Going forward, the income he would formerly have received from the songs will all go to Universal Publishing, while Levy's estate will continue to collect 35% of the income generated by the co-writes
And when we do, we will hold plaintiffs and their counsel responsible for bringing this meritless case." An attorney for Dylan, Orin Snyder, has responded, saying in a statement given to Variety, "This lawsuit is a sad attempt to unfairly profit off of the recent catalog sale. We are confident that we will prevail. The plaintiffs have been paid everything they are owed.
This was not an isolated incident." Only after Plaintiffs demanded payment was such revenue allegedly paid to Plaintiffs. Despite JL’s prominent role directing the Rolling Thunder Revue and writing seven of the nine Compositions on 'Desire,' JL was not identified in the film as director or songwriter, let alone celebrated as one of the driving forces behind the Rolling Thunder Revue. "JL focused on staging and presentation and continued rewriting the Compositions, but was never included on the program or posters for the Rolling Thunder Revue…. "Dylan contracted with JL to direct the Rolling Thunder Revue, Dylan’s 1975 tour featuring live performances of the songs on 'Desire'," the suit says. In 2019, 'Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese' was released, depicting Dylan’s industry-changing 1975 tour. … In early 2020, Plaintiffs discovered that they were not being paid synchronization license fees …
It should be noted, though, that even if a court agreed that Levy was entitled to a portion of the catalog sale, it might be difficult establishing that a lesser album track, B-side or (in the case of "Money Blues") completely unreleased song is equal in value to "Like a Rolling Stone" or "Blowin' in the Wind."
The Levy suit mentions this, but contends that it was an "atypical" work-for-hire situation. Certain to be part of any defense Dylan's camp mounts is the fact that Levy's contributions were contracted on a "work for hire" basis.
Levy died in 2004. He also was said to be instrumental in the creation and direction of Dylan's 1975 Rolling Thunder Revue tour, although the suit complains that he was never properly billed at the time and was unfairly not even mentioned in Martin Scorsese's 2019 documentary about the tour. His multi-leveled career included being a practicing psychologist, avant-garde theater director and playwright.
The 10 songs listed as Dylan/Levy co-writes are "Hurricane," "Isis," "Mozambique," "Oh Sister," "Joey," "Romance in Durango," and "Black Diamond Bay," which appeared on the "Desire" album, plus "Catfish," "Money Blues" and "Rita Mae." "Catfish" eventually appeared on the first release in Dylan's "Bootleg Series," and "Rita Mae" appeared as a single B-side (and was later covered by Jerry Lee Lewis). The 10th song, "Money Blues," remains unreleased, although the words were published in a complete book of Dylan lyrics.
Levy's "legacy continually has been diminished and hidden by the Dylan Defendants since JL’s first collaborations with Dylan," the filing says.
The suit says that Levy was eventually paid for having his songs included in Scorsese's movie, but only after some effort on the estate's part.
Bob Dylan and Universal Music Group have been sued by the estate of Jacques Levy, who co-wrote seven of the nine songs on Dylan's chart-topping 1976 album "Desire," over the estates contention that it should have been compensated as part of Universal's reported $300 million acquisition of the entire Dylan publishing catalog.
Plaintiffs are entitled to 35% of the income and/or revenue derived from the Catalog Sale thereof (i.e., 35% of $5,000,000.00). Claudia Levy's lawyer, says, "Using estimates of 600 songs comprising the song catalog and a sale price of $300,000,000.00 (both of which are low estimates), the sale price per song in the Catalog Sale is or would be approximately $500,000.00 for a total of approximately $5,000,000.00 for all compositions. Plaintiffs’ prorated share of the income generated from the Catalog Sale is approximately $1,750,000.00 or in excess thereof."
 ” />

And the fact that I liked the rest of the movie so much didn’t mitigate the irritation; if anything, it only increased it. How, exactly, does making shit up fit into that? It rubbed up against my journalistic instincts and made me bristle. Scorsese, working with mountains of footage from the Rolling Thunder Revue tour, had crafted a burbling, live-wire, turbulently vital portrait of Bob Dylan in the mid-'70s that felt kaleidoscopic in its authenticity. The movie puts you right on that tour, letting you brush up against the look and mood and spirit of a by-gone era. Yet the fact that I was nearly seduced into palming off a blatant fabrication as fact kind of bugged me. The film’s time-machine purity is its calling card. I didn’t feel delighted — I felt played. In the movie, all this stuff is executed with deadpan drollery, in a spirit of high malarkey, that sounds harmless and fun. And maybe it is.
I got wind of the rest of the fakery from a fellow critic who’d learned about it, and was able to change those parts of my review at the last minute. I learned that Stefan van Dorp, a cranky Eurotrash experimental filmmaker who was hired, back in the '70s, to direct a Rolling Thunder Revue doc that never got made (he’s interviewed in the film, and does nothing but complain), is a fictional character played by Martin von Haselberg, who happens to be Bette Midler’s husband. (Aha! So that explained why I spent an exasperating hour trying to confirm van Dorp’s name for my print editors, and couldn’t find one mention of him on Google.) I learned that Jim Gianopulos, the CEO of Paramount Pictures, had not been the Rolling Thunder Revue tour promoter, strolling through parking lots with bags of cash. And I learned that Sharon Stone, who describes in the film how, as a teenager, she attended one of the concerts with her mother and wound up tagging along on the rest of the tour, becoming a floating member of the backstage party, was never near the Rolling Thunder Revue.
It’s the question I kept asking myself. I had seen the film a couple of weeks beforehand, and had written a review of it that bought into most of the fakery — though it was obvious, even when I saw it, that one part of "Rolling Thunder Revue" was total fiction: the interview with Jack Tanner (Michael Murphy), a character I remembered well from Robert Altman’s three-decades-old HBO series "Tanner '88." I knew that the presence of Jack Tanner was a lark, but even so, I couldn’t wrap my head around Scorsese’s reason for putting him in there.
That it’s subtitled "A Bob Dylan Story" hints at the notion that reality, like Dylan himself, is a kind of "construct," and that Scorsese, in an uncharacteristically ha-ha way, is rolling with the thunder of that perception. There’s a crasser way to look at all this: that Scorsese, on some level, was courting publicity with his fake-news documentary gambit, and that he got it. The fact that Sharon Stone is even in the film is a marketing hook, and the idea that "Rolling Thunder Revue" is an effusive '70s rock doc fused with a Christopher Guest parody of that same doc sounds like a cagey aesthetic strategy.
That, by his own admission, is what happened to Scorsese when he made "New York, New York" (1977), fueling his creative vision on cocaine, flying too close to the sun of excess. He stayed vital, and he triumphed (in "Raging Bull," "The Last Temptation of Christ," "GoodFellas," "Cape Fear," "Shutter Island," "The Wolf of Wall Street"). But they were also about how that freedom could lead to an excess that caved in on itself. And while the ecstatic-nightmare drug tales are long behind him, the reason I think he has stayed fixated on that period is that once he emerged from the other side of it, he became a different kind of filmmaker. The '70s were about an unprecedented freedom that allowed for things like "Taxi Driver" and the Rolling Thunder Revue tour. Scorsese has never stopped talking about that period, and about how it nearly destroyed him. But by necessity, he became part of a new Hollywood machine.
Scorsese, in the fake bits of "Rolling Thunder Revue," may think that he’s paying a kind of homage to the shell-game ethos of Bob Dylan, but he’s also playing catch-up to the "reality" era, in which everything we see pretends to be authentic and probably isn’t. Even "serious" political debate is now a nightly entertainment narcotic, and has been for a long time. Yet it’s a long way from 1965 to now, and the other grand put-on of our society — the one we currently live with every minute of every day — is the fakery of politics that’s really showbiz, and of showbiz that pretends to be authentic. Reality TV is an epic and cheesy hall of mirrors. On social media, people let fly with their "real" opinions (which are generally some fusion of what they think, what they think they’re supposed to say, and careerist positioning).
(I couldn’t remember.) And, if so, was it in fact true? Thinking back on "Rolling Thunder Revue," I recalled that "the promoter" (who doesn’t, in fact, exist) discussed certain financial aspects of the tour. You no longer know what to believe. Was that part of what the promoter said? It’s a virus that infects the truth around it. But the way he does it, as a friend of mine said, "It seems more Trumpian than Dylanesque." Fake news, as we’ve learned, is more than just a lie. So here’s Marty, doing his bit to join the contemporary cult of put-on reality. An important dimension of the movie is that the Rolling Thunder Revue, in all its helter-skelter vibrance, was a financial disaster. (It seems true, but that isn’t the same thing.) The existence of the fake promoter was tugging at one strand of the movie and threatening to unravel a larger part of it.
But here’s the real reason I think he did it, even if it may be unconscious on Scorsese’s part. Part of the mystique of "Rolling Thunder Revue" is that Scorsese, in assembling a movie out of this mid-'70s footage, is going back to one of his own most fabled periods — the era of "Taxi Driver" (a movie he was in the final stages of working on during the first months of the tour), when he became, more than any other filmmaker alive, the rock-star icon of the New Hollywood. The key piece of fakery in "Rolling Thunder Revue" is clearly the Sharon Stone subplot. It takes up a larger portion of the film than anything else that was fabricated, and it’s the one lie in the movie that spins around the central truth of our time: the preeminence of celebrity.
On June, 11, the night before "Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese" dropped on Netflix, I attended an event for the movie following its premiere at Lincoln Center. At the party, I got to sample reactions to the revelation that roughly 10 minutes of Scorsese's back-to-the-'70s rock doc consists of prankish fake-documentary footage, like something out of a Christopher Guest movie.
And though they have brutal violence in common, the spirit of "Basic Instinct" is not the spirit of Martin Scorsese. Of course, he’s also saying: What a joke.” /> In "Rolling Thunder Revue," the presence of Sharon Stone embodies the spirit of that machine. He’s imagining that they could somehow be one. She has always been a good actress (probably better than many know), but her fame will forever rest on a certain crudely riveting but debased high-budget exploitation thriller. In pretending, with a wink, that she might have been part of the Rolling Thunder Revue tour, he’s having a laugh, but he’s also fantasizing about connecting the two eras, bridging the two worlds of his filmmaking life: the wild and pure meets the corporate and celebrity-driven. It’s the spirit of the Hollywood that Scorsese has spent the last 40 years fighting to keep his place in. In "Rolling Thunder Revue," he inserts "Sharon Stone," like a meme (or Zelig), into the age of raggedy creative freedom.
"I’m Not There," Bob Dylan was whoever he wanted to be, and whoever we wanted him to be. Dylan was an artist who made himself up as he went along. Protest singer, electric rocker, cowboy hermit, post-counterculture divorce casualty (and yes, that was another conscious image: the subject of Dylan’s greatest album, "Blood on the Tracks"), and now roving hippie troubadour.
And that, in its way, was the inner spirit of the '60s and early '70s. You had to bamboozle him with the lie he deserved. You had to put him on. This was the kickoff to the Age of Speaking Truth to Power, but one of the premises of the psychedelic carnival of the '60s, as well as the grand dilapidated sex-drugs-and-rock-‘n’-roll party that followed, is that the corporate powers were so full of baloney that there were times when you couldn’t, in fact, speak truth to the Man. (Otherwise he couldn’t hear you.) If you want to know what that sounds like, watch any interview Bob Dylan gave to the press in 1965.
It wasn't hard to gauge the reaction, since in just about every case, when I asked people what they thought about the fakery, that was the very first they’d heard of it. Of the 20 or so people I had conversations with, not one said, "Really? The question I kept getting was, "Why did he do it?" Over and over, they said that they felt duped, suckered, maybe even a little betrayed. And this was a crowd of people who were disposed to like the movie, many of them with two or three degrees of separation from Martin Scorsese. That's kind of cool!" The fakery left no one with that Andy Kaufman feeling of awe. (Unless you have extra sensory perception, you’re going to buy what this movie shows you.) Most of the people I spoke to were wide-eyed with disbelief yet kind of bummed.
He’d tweaked his persona nearly as often as the Beatles, and on the Rolling Thunder Revue tour, in case we missed the point, he performed onstage in white-face mime make-up, as if putting a mask on over the mask. I had my own theories, starting with the obvious one: that Dylan himself was a famous purveyor of images that weren’t real. As Todd Haynes caught — brilliantly — in his 2007 Dylan fantasia He was a Jewish kid from Minnesota who sold himself, early on, as a hardscrabble folk singer. Who was Bob Dylan?

Metal detect
Detect metal, level your set
Benevolent and legit, I’m the exceptional vet
The vet sent death threat direct express
One way ticket to hell, jail, fuck with the best
P, boss with a violent past
Break north, get lost like the Tribe of Shabazz
Knowledge 120
Breaking compounds down the brolic gun dummy
P! [Chorus: Rim]
The viking, the Brother Mouzone
Get your thoughts thrown from verbal to hand chrome
Rap predators don’t get caught in the feeding
It’s Mic Tyson writing social graffiti
The viking, the Brother Mouzone
Get your thoughts thrown from verbal to hand chrome
Rap predators don’t get caught in the feeding
It’s Mic Tyson writing social graffiti
[Verse 3: Sean Price]
Ravaging the booth rapping shit
Savage in pursuit of happiness
I don’t co-sign with some poor thoughts
Of bitch niggas eating collard greens with salt pork
This is the onslaught
The fifth have you rocking on the shit that your son brought
Glad to meet ya
Push your wig back you got alopecia
P! [Sample]
When you gonna realize money is the king of the land
The color of your skin doesn’t matter when you got it in your hand
[Verse 1: Illa Ghee]
I got that feeling to clap
A young black Bob Dylan of rap
You can fill in the gap
Sacrilegious, dick in the mouth of bad bitches
It’s cool when it’s G Rap on roads to riches
On fleek when I tilt my own beep, beep I’m vicious
Deep with the bullets I speak sleeps your mistress
No assistance, ghetto icing on the sentence
I’m different, pissing on the world from a distance
[Verse 2: Sean Price]
Alejandro! [Verse 4: Illa Ghee]
Master Illa massacre
Move at any matter it don’t matter
Illa is better than competitor
Your chatterbox get boxed in and brain splattered
Rain [?]
Pain captured in my vein
Cocaine like metaphors
Aim high in plain sight
Poke her on a plane pipe put in your dame
Got a .44 focus on your fame slain the predator
Legendary, I’m every murder inside America
[Chorus: Rim]
The viking, the Brother Mouzone
Get your thoughts thrown from verbal to hand chrome
Rap predators don’t get caught in the feeding
It’s Mic Tyson writing social graffiti
The viking, the Brother Mouzone
Get your thoughts thrown from verbal to hand chrome
Rap predators don’t get caught in the feeding
It’s Mic Tyson writing social graffiti
[Sample]
Because I am so cool…
Cool…
Cool…
Cool…

He was 66. Tom Petty, whose Florida-bred quintet the Heartbreakers was one of the defining arena-rock acts of the 1970s with hits like "Breakdown," has died after suffering a heart attack Sunday at his home in Malibu, Calif., a source confirms to Variety.
The band cut an unsuccessful single for Shelter, but fell apart with the firing of original drummer Randall Marsh. In the wake of a poorly capitalized exploratory trip to Los Angeles in search of a record contract, Mudcrutch was contacted by Denny Cordell, an English producer-executive whose Shelter Records had issued hit releases by Cordell’s partner, musician Leon Russell.
Petty is survived by second wife Dana York Petty and his daughters from his first marriage, Adria and Annakim.” />
13 album featured the cautionary title song, a brooding number about the record business that director Julien Temple converted into an elaborate, nearly seven-minute video starring Johnny Depp and Faye Dunaway. The Heartbreakers regrouped for 1991’s “Into the Great Wide Open,” which also employed the production services of Lynne. The double-platinum No.
Police responded to his home a 10:50 p.m. Sunday night and he was transferred to UCLA-Santa Monica Medical Center, where he was on life support until Monday.
After Shelter was acquired by major MCA in 1979, Petty bridled and sought to void his band’s contract with a bankruptcy declaration. Ultimately, the group was rewarded with a better deal and a slot at a newly formed MCA imprint, Backstreet Records.
Despite dramatic exits from the Heartbreakers’ original lineup, the expulsion and overdose death of the group’s latter-day bassist and Petty’s intermittent struggles with drugs and depression, the Heartbreakers sustained their massive popularity for more than four decades.
8, 2008) and “2” (No. 4, 2006) and the two albums with the renascent Mudcrutch, “Mudcrutch” (No. Petty’s side projects in the new millennium included the solo side “Highway Companion” (No. 10, 2016).
However, he had cancelled a few shows during the tour for laryngitis. 25. Petty toured all summer across the U.S., with the last date at the Hollywood Bowl on Sept. He had been scheduled to play two dates in New York in November.
With their breakthrough third album, 1979’s triple-platinum “Damn the Torpedoes,” the Heartbreakers established themselves as a top contender among American acts of the era. The group’s 1993 “Greatest Hits” collection sold more than 10 million copies. The unit ultimately released eight top-10 albums and nine top-20 singles.
8, and combined strong full-band material with a more subdued, folk-inflected sound. Petty’s sophomore solo release “Wildflowers,” produced by Rick Rubin and released in 1994, rose to No.
He was born Oct. Like many other boyish rock aspirants, he began working on music in earnest after witnessing the Beatles on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in Febrary 1964. 20, 1950, in Gainesville, Fla. A poor student, he caught the rock ‘n’ roll bug after he was introduced by his uncle to Elvis Presley, who was shooting the picture “Follow That Dream” on location in nearby Ocala.
15). Backstreet issued “Damn the Torpedoes” in the wake of the new pact. Produced by engineer-producer Jimmy Iovine, who had worked on such straight-ahead rock hits as Bruce Springsteen’s album “Born to Run” and the Springsteen-Patti Smith smash “Because the Night,” the album was lofted to No. 10) and “Refugee” (No. 2 by the signature hit singles “Don’t Do Me Like That” (No.
Petty was awarded UCLA’s George and Ira Gershwin Award for lifetime achievemtn in 1996. In 2002, Petty and the Heartbreakers were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
The latter album featured participation by two performers who would soon become permanent members of the Heartbreakers: drummer Steve Ferrone, first heard with Petty on “Wildflowers,” and the well-traveled session guitarist Scott Thurston. The band’s sales declined with the gold soundtrack album “Songs and Music from ‘She’s the One’” (No. 15, 1996) and “Echo” (No. 10, 1999).
7, 1985), which contained a No. pop duo Eurythmics, and promoted via MTV in a striking “Alice in Wonderland”-themed video featuring Petty as the Mad Hatter. 9 collection “Long After Dark” in 1982. 13 hit, “Don’t Come Around Here No More,” produced and co-written by Dave Stewart of the U.K. That title was succeeded by the regionally flavored “Southern Accents” (No. Epstein bowed on the No.
He also hit the upper reaches of the charts on two albums with the supergroup the Traveling Wilburys, a collaborative effort with Bob Dylan (with whom the Heartbreakers toured internationally in the late ‘80s), George Harrison, Jeff Lynne and (on the debut release) Roy Orbison. With 1989’s “Full Moon Fever,” Petty established a concurrent solo career that saw the release of three top-10 albums.
He died of drug-related causes in February 2003. The increasingly unreliable Epstein – who failed to show up for the cover photo session for “Echo” – was finally dismissed after appearing with the Heartbreakers at their 2002 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction.
It was this five-piece group that assembled in Los Angeles to record the newly dubbed Heartbreakers’ self-titled debut album in 1976. However, Petty, Campbell and Tench reconvened with the addition of two other Gainesville musicians, bassist Ron Blair and drummer Stan Lynch.
Recalling his first performance with a band as a teenager to biographer Warren Zanes, he said, “The first time you count four and, suddenly, rock and roll is playing – it’s bigger than life itself. It was the greatest moment in my experience.”
Director Peter Bogdanovich took a deep look at the Heartbreakers story in his four-hour 2007 documentary “Runnin’ Down a Dream.”
But the sets spawned such tuneful early live staples as “American Girl,” “Breakdown” (the group’s biggest early hit, peaking at No. 23 respectively. Neither that album nor its 1978 successor “You’re Gonna Get It!” were major successes, peaking at No. 40), “I Need to Know” and “Listen to Her Heart.” 55 and No.
Over the course of time, Petty piled up credits in other show biz realms. Following bit parts in the features “FM” and “Made in Heaven,” he became a recurring character as himself on “It’s Gary Shandling’s Show” and appeared on “The Larry Sanders Show.” He voiced ne’er-do-well redneck Lucky Kleinschmidt on Mike Judge’s animated series “King of the Hill.” He was also a long-running celebrity host on Siriux XM satellite radio.
In 1979 he filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection after his original recording contract, which he found onerous, was acquired by MCA Records. He was a smart, outspoken and intransigent musician whose song “I Won’t Back Down” could be taken as a kind of credo. Two years later, he publicly attacked MCA when they threatened to raise the list price on his new album.
The act became a surprisingly popular attraction in England amid the punk rock fervor of the day; at a show a the Whisky a Go Go in the newly adopted hometown of L.A., they were introduced by British DJ John Peel, an enthusiastic early supporter.
In a move that surprised everyone except Ron Blair, who had predicted his own return in a 1993 interview, Petty drafted the Heartbreakers’ original bassist to replace Epstein on the 2002 set “The Last DJ,” a bile-filled rebuke of the music industry that reached No. 9.
Penning economical, affecting, hook-laced songs (frequently in partnership with guitarist Mike Campbell) that never shied away from complex emotions or dark narratives, Petty approached rock music with the fervor of the true believer.
His long-running marriage to Jane Benyo unraveled, and the depression-prone musician began a short dalliance with heroin use. Founding drummer Lynch, whose resentment grew when Petty failed to use him on “Wildflowers,” was ejected from the band. And bassist Epstein’s own heroin addiction began to escalate. During this period, Petty’s personal and professional life began to erode.
Singer-songwriter-guitarist Petty arrived on the national scene during the period between the original classic rock era and the arrival of punk. His taut, thoughtful and heartfelt songs – which elaborated on the work of such precursors as the Byrds – resonated with an audience looking for a new hero.
However, at that juncture Petty and the Heartbreakers’ profile was heightened considerably by service as opening act and backup band on a long world tour by Bob Dylan. The 1987 album “Let Me Up (I’ve Had Enough),” though it reached No. 20 and shifted 1 million units, was deemed a relative disappointment.
In his late teens, he became a top local attraction on the fertile Gainesville music scene (which produced members of the Flying Burrito Brothers, the Eagles and new wave act the Motels) as front man and songwriter for Mudcrutch, an outfit that also included guitarist Campbell and keyboard prodigy Benmont Tench. Playing guitar and bass, he cut his teeth in cover bands like the Epics and the Sundowners.
Petty also returned to his Sunshine State roots with two top-10 albums that reunited members of his late-‘60s hometown band Mudcrutch.
7) and “Runnin’ Down a Dream” (No. The next few years found Petty increasingly active as a performer apart from his working band. 3, 1988). 23). 1” (No. Some of the Heartbreakers appeared in minor backing roles on his Jeff Lynne-produced solo debut “Full Moon Fever,” which contained the emblematic hits “Free Fallin’” (No. He worked side-by-side with his idols on “Traveling Wilburys Vol.
Blair remained on board as full-time bassist for subsequent tours and the Petty-Heartbreakers albums “Mojo” (2010), a blues-based collection that peaked at No. 1 album, a mere 37 years after their debut. 2, and “Hypnotic Eye” (2014), which became the band’s first No.
The million-selling “Hard Promises” (No. 3 single “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around,” on which the Heartbreakers, produced by Petty and Iovine, backed avowed Petty fan Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac, soon followed. 5, 1981) and the same year’s No.
However, bassist Blair, considered the odd man out among the band members, was soon displaced in the group by Howie Epstein, who played on the sessions for the Petty-produced 1982 album by ‘60s rocker Del Shannon, “Drop Down and Get Me.”

A woman on the radio talked about revolution
when it’s already passed her by
Bob Dylan didn’t have this to sing about
you know it feels good to be alive

I was alive and I waited, waited
I was alive and I waited for this

Right here, right now
there is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
watching the world wake up from history

I saw the decade in, when it seemed
the world could change at the blink of an eye
And if anything
then there’s your sign of the times

I was alive and I waited, waited
I was alive and I waited for this

Right here, right now

I was alive and I waited, waited
I was alive and I waited for this

Right here, right now
there is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
watching the world wake up from history
Right here, right now
there is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
watching the world wake up from history
Right here, right now
there is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
watching the world wake up from history

Sha, la, la, la, la, la, la
Mmm
Uh huh

I was down at the New Amsterdam
Staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr Jones strikes up a conversation
With a black-haired flamenco dancer
You know, she dances while his father plays guitar
She’s suddenly beautiful
We all want something beautiful
Man, I wish I was beautiful

So come dance the silence down through the morning
Sha la, la, la, la, la, la, la
Yeah
Uh huh
Yeah

Cut up, Maria!
Show me some of that Spanish dancin’
Pass me a bottle, Mr Jones
Believe in me
Help me believe in anything
‘Cause I want to be someone who believes
Yeah

Mr Jones and me
Tell each other fairy tales
And we stare at the beautiful women
She’s looking at you
Ah, no, no, she’s looking at me
Smilin’ in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you
You can never be lonely

Well, I’m gonna paint my picture
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray
All of the beautiful colors are very, very meaningful
Yeah, well, you know gray is my favorite color
I felt so symbolic yesterday
If I knew Picasso
I would buy myself a gray guitar and play

Mr Jones and me
Look into the future
Yeah, we stare at the beautiful women
She’s looking at you
I don’t think so
She’s looking at me
Standing in the spotlight
I bought myself a gray guitar
When everybody loves me
I will never be lonely
I will never be lonely
Said I’m never gonna be
Lonely

I wanna be a lion
Yeah, everybody wants to pass as cats
We all wanna be big, big stars
Yeah, but we got different reasons for that
Believe in me
‘Cause I don’t believe in anything
And I wanna be someone to believe, to believe, to believe
Yeah!

Mr Jones and me
Stumbling through the Barrio
Yeah, we stare at the beautiful women
She’s perfect for you
Man, there’s got to be somebody for me
I wanna be Bob Dylan
Mr Jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
When everybody love you
Oh! Son, that’s just about as funky as you can be

Mr Jones and me
Starin’ at the video
When I look at the television, I wanna see me
Staring right back at me
We all wanna be big stars
But we don’t know why, and we don’t know how
But when everybody loves me
I’m wanna be just about as happy as I can be
Mr Jones and me
We’re gonna be big stars