To fully understand the story one has to back up a moment and realize that from the beginning of his career first as musician and now as highly sought after music producer (he calls people like Ashlee Simpson, George Clinton, Wu Tang Clan, Russell Simons, George Clinton and Countess Luann de Lesseps close friends and collaborators) one has to realize when Izzy first began in the industry he was an outsider with no political clout and perhaps a sensibility that could at first be described unwieldy. Like the country before him that has summonsed him, they are a diamond in the rough, except this time Izzy is no longer in the rough part but by all intensive purposes the slivered trophy that you want to keep sliding up your finger.
“I want to be the means for the people to channel their soul to me, their passions, their identity and I want to take it all in, become the metaphor for the people and give them without any cultural, political and legal prejudices the music that they want. Music for the people, by the people.”
He stops, looks for a lighter, puts back on his sunglasses (even at nine o’ clock in the evening) and begins to lead me into his sound recording room where Duncan Bruce, Kevin and Ahmad Farzad are adding vocals and it seems another long night. Izzy listens keenly and like a surgeon summonsed to perform triple heart valve surgery he stares deep into his throbbing master unit, starts asking for key notes, harmony quartets, a repeat of octaves and a elliptic restoration of vocal intonations before looking at me-
“I don’t mind making music. In fact I live for it, but the truth is I also want to come out with a finished product.” He stops to consider what he says, “Scratch that, I want to always come out with a number one hit.”
It’s then satisfied, he sits back deep, just me and him finally in his recording studio –
“That part of the world man, you can drive 20 miles and come u with 16 cultural legacies, and here’s me, this kid from America going over there to fuck shit up. Not everybody gets that chance. You know, not everybody, and I want this so bad. Do you understand I want to make the fucking music that blows your heart out!”
I look at him for a moment, not really too sure what to say, almost as if I am invading this man’s impending glory and at the very least foray into new world mecca.
“So what do you think Izzy, can you do it?Are you going to be the next American icon ?”
He looks at me, takes off his sunglasses (always those sunglasses) before pulling out two cigarettes, one for me and one for him.
“You ever been to a pool party?”
I nod my head slowly.
“When you go to a pool party have you noticed that the pool party doesn’t really get going until someone takes their trunks off and jumps into the pool?”
Once again I nod my head, starting to see where Izzy is going with this.
“Well, I’m that ‘guy.’ I’m the one taking off his trunks and jumping into the pool.”
I lean back and close my eyes as Izzy once again turns on the switch to his newest chorus, the one he’s been working on for days before Izzy suddenly gets up, puts back on his sunglasses, drags on his umpteenth cigarette before jiggling with something that suddenly has caught his attention…