Rage Against The Machine

"I'm not angry; I'm just passionate about music and trying to speak the truth about it," says Lefsetz, who once worked in the music industry. (By Jonathan Alcorn For The Washington Post)

Lefsetz says that's because he isn't really making any money.

Oh, sure, he gets checks from Celebrity Access and Yahoo! Music, which reprint some of his screeds. And Rhino Records pays him for monthly podcasts. And he'll get a stipend for speaking at events like the Concert Industry Consortium and the upcoming Music Matters convention in Hong Kong.

He's done some consulting work for record companies, including Warner Bros., which seems to run counter to his assertion that he's beholden to no one. ("It's not something I pursue," Lefsetz says of consulting contracts.) And he used to have a radio show, too, until the station sold his hours for infomercials.

"I live on a no-cash basis," he says. "I live in a rent-controlled apartment in Santa Monica. . . . I don't have kids or all these other expenses people have. If I'm going to dinner, somebody else is picking up the tab."

The ski vacations? Cheap flights to Colorado and even cheaper accommodations: Lefsetz is dating Felice Mancini, daughter of the late composer Henry Mancini, and the family owns a condo in Vail. "People have this fantasy that I'm living some exotic, marvelous life. . . . I laugh when people think there's a big pile of money somewhere. . . . NO! You're just not willing to live and sacrifice the way I do. And believe me, I've sacrificed."

So then what's the payoff? "I love connecting with people and telling a story," he says.

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A remarkable thing happened last year, according to Solters, the Ticketmaster spokesman. The company was preparing to announce a major acquisition and in the midst of a media-strategy meeting, he recalls, "we're talking about the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal and somebody says, 'How are we going to deal with Lefsetz?' I couldn't believe that question came up. But so many people in the industry read him. His influence is incredible."

As the traditional music industry continues its downward spiral, Lefsetz's voice appears to be growing louder and more resonant. While the analyst/provocateur says some people misunderstand his mission -- "I'm not angry; I'm just passionate about music and trying to speak the truth about it" -- just about everybody in the industry seems to read his newsletter, at least occasionally.

Solters explains the appeal thusly: "He's not boring. He really gets people's blood boiling, which is what an editorial writer wants to do. He speaks from the heart. He takes an opinion and just goes for it."

Though Lefsetz is famous for enthusing about the old days and old music, as in a recent 1,625-word post on the Who's "Quadrophenia," he's best known for his vituperative approach: When it comes to writing about best-selling stars and high-flying executives, he doesn't speak truth to power so much as he whacks power across the knees with a crowbar.

Last year, for instance, he torched Blue Note Records CEO Bruce Lundvall, characterizing him as a horribly out-of-touch dinosaur. Lundvall quickly fired back, writing: "If there is one thing you've accomplished in your career that hasn't been at the expense of someone else's reputation, I'd be grateful to know what it is." The sentiment is common among Lefsetz's detractors. (Another frequent criticism: While Lefsetz is keen on riffing on the industry's myriad problems, he doesn't proffer many solutions.)

"Why CAN'T I say something negative if you're [expletive] wrong?" Lefsetz retorts. Through a Blue Note spokesman, Lundvall calls Lefsetz "the industry gadfly" and says, "Whether or not we agree with him, everyone in the industry reads him. He does what he does, and I respect that."

So, too, does Randy Phillips, even though steam sometimes leaks from his ears while he reads the Lefsetz Letter. Last summer, Phillips -- the president and CEO of AEG Live, the second-largest U.S. concert promoter -- got into an e-mail argument with Lefsetz after he'd written that Justin Timberlake, an AEG client, was "an uneducated twit whose only goal in life was to make it."

They wound up exchanging 18 e-mails in 81 minutes, with Phillips sending 10 of them from London, on a BlackBerry, in the middle of the night.

"It's amazing how many people read him, given how many people say they hate him," Phillips says. "I think some of his columns can be phenomenally interesting, when he gets it right. . . . And he is a character. This business has become so homogenized that any time you have somebody like him, it's a good thing-- especially if they're thought-provoking. Having said that, I wish I'd gone to bed that night instead of correcting the record with him."

It's exactly what Lefsetz seems to be looking for: A response, a reaction, a signal that his voice is being heard, even if he can't quite digest the idea that anybody would pay him the slightest notice.

"I write something every day, and I cannot believe that people are reading it," he says. But it's his finest moment when they are, because every performer -- every act -- needs an audience.