In January, 2016, I was invited to a ranch near Studio City by a young producer who wanted product from me. I met her through my pal Matthew Gadsa, who is now, according to New York Magazine, then passed on by New York Times, the Chekhov of the Dimes Square scene. He had met this young producer at Cannes, where they both had short films, and he was in LA, and I was being summoned there. When one lives in Syracuse and gets a free trip to Los Angeles in January, one takes the trip. David Bowie had just died, I was finishing a book about Joni Mitchell and had the hubris to go on a songwriting binge.
© 2024 David Yaffe
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