“You do not need to be part of a huge corporation to get your message out to millions of people…anybody can do it…if you have something that people are interested in, you can get a following…”
You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you’re on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking
And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You’ll get the chance to put the knife in
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it’s going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you’ll pack up and fly down south
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer
And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest you have sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it’s too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone
Dragged down by the stone (stone, stone, stone, stone, stone)
I gotta admit that I’m a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I’m just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don’t stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone’s expendable and no-one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everything’s done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone’s a killer
Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone
Songwriters: David Jon Gilmour / Roger Waters
Arturo Toscanini retired from the NBC orchestra before I saw him perform live, but later on in the 1960s, NBC had showed reruns of these famed orchestra performances. I watched them as a young boy, and was riveted by the music, and by Toscanini.
After reading a recent article on him in the New Yorker, I felt a twinge of sadness about the trajectory his career went given his once immense popularity, and the passion he displayed. I remember as a child watching awestruck, and now today, as I watched him again. He was an amazing figure in classical music and in the early days of broadcast television.
The broadcast below is from 1952, when he was 85 years old. Watch it uninterrupted (11:54), and feel the heights this man took his craft. You’ll find more Youtube links to explore, should you be moved to do so. I was.