The Beatles came and the Beatles went. Hello, Goodbye.

And in between, we listened and we watched and we absorbed and we inhaled. And we went on, traversing the jingle jangle of the sixties and the power-pop sonics of the seventies. We even survived a well-deserved smack in the jaw from the punks. Oh, there was more to come, but it didn’t matter. Not the corporate rock or the hair bands or the Eltons, Madonnas and the King of Pop. While we huddled over a turntable, boomed it from Chevy speakers, or beach-blasted from our transistors, we were perpetually plugged in–- our ears tuned –waiting to hear the aforementioned moptops, the Spoonful, the Kinks, the Pacemakers, Turtles and assorted Animals, and even the sparkling, prepackaged pop of the Monkees.

And so the hungry young musical wannabees stayed up late in their bedrooms and garages, rewinding their cassette players, tuning their electric knockoffs, desperately cribbing the chords and licks. The music stayed with them, too.For some of us, the music we grew up with and loved forged a path into the future. For some of us, the passion we felt for the music of our youth became our calling card. Armed with an eclectic guitar, a coil cord and an amp, some brave souls carried on – playing the music we loved, the way it was meant to be played.

Jere Mendelsohn is one of those kids who grew up in the 60s and 70s and never left its message behind. Crafting his own songs to reflect not only his own journey, but the spirit, exuberance, and melodies of the era he loves, Jere has created a body of work that incorporates the heart-tugging harmonies of the Byrds and Burritos, the crunchy beat of Rockpile and Petty, and the smooth power pop of Crowded House and Squeeze. It’s an eclectic sound, always anchored by the full-bodied, melodic guitars that are as much Jere’s voice as his sweet and gritty California vocals.

But Jere’ s music isn’t a simple recreation of a bygone era. This is no Americana Sha Na Na. While his deceptively catchy tunes wrap themselves around you, Jere is telling you the story of his life – all of our lives, in fact. For every one of us who started out in those rosier flower -powered days, there’s been love and loss; there’s been the searching--and the yearning. In Jere’s songs, we find ourselves “running in place in the middle of nowhere” or “standing on a crowded street all alone.” Although we’re “praying for a happy landing,” we must finally acknowledge “there’s no absolution...no saving grace.” In the end, we’re warned: “Old sins cast long shadows.”

Clearly, sayeth Jere, it’s not all Peter and Gordon. Yet we go on.

And perhaps those very doubts and suspicions lend themselves to a more hopeful future. As Jere notes, “When your heart is aching, you can count on me.”So -- here we are in a new year with new challenges, new mountains to climb, new battles to fight. The Sixties all over again. Back where we started, back in the saddle, back to listening to what we love. And at least we know this: Jere Mendelsohn and his music are not going away. In fact, he’s come through it all, and, although he would be loathe to admit it, he’s still an optimist: “I’m looking for some light at the edge of the world,” he sings. And that ain’t weird at all.

-Lee Cohen, Los Angeles, April 2017

(Lee Cohen has written for television and movies and is the co-author of the best-selling memoir, "The Children of Willesden Lane." More to the point, he has enjoyed the friendship of Jere Mendelsohn for much longer than either of them care to admit.)