SUBTERRANEAN MOTOR CITY BLUES.

By Peter M. De Lorenzo

Detroit. It’s the beginning of August and the brief (but official) doldrums of the summer are upon us in the automobile business. As you read this, hordes of people representing Design, Engineering, Product Development and Marketing are feverishly working away on what’s next. Finessing the final design concepts for the upcoming auto shows. Envisioning what the compelling looks will be for 2020. Wrestling with the engineering constraints brought on by an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of regulations and emissions requirements. Finessing the final days of new product programs while jump-starting future products to life. Presenting finished fall advertising work and working on the obligatory year-end holiday ad campaigns while working on creative concepts for upcoming launches. And of course, the never-ending churn of the monthly sales figures

And this orchestrated cacophony never ends. It’s a constant swirling maelstrom of highs and lows, punctuated by triumphs, forgettable missteps and at times unmitigated bullshit. It’s the Autoverse as defined by today’s chaotic global environment.

The High-Octane Truth of the matter is that all of the major players at the car companies want it all, all the time. And surprisingly enough, too many of these executives who should know better actually believe they can have it all. But it never works out that way. In fact, it doesn’t even come close to working that way.

Instead it’s a two-steps-forward, three-steps-back dance for even the best of the car companies. For every out-and-out product hit, there’s always some corner of the enterprise that is woefully underperforming. And remarkably enough, there are always new executives who seem to have to find this out the hard way.

I was thinking about all of this over the weekend as one of Bob Dylan’s classic songs kept popping into my head. Part defiant and poetic social shit disturbing and part Dylan-esque gibberish, “Subterranean Homesick Blues” has a chaotic urgency about it that is hard to turn away from once you let it wash over you.

So, without further ado – and with full props to Mr. Dylan’s original – here’s the “Subterranean Motor City Blues” for your edification (special tip from WordGirl - play Dylan's song in another browser while you read along!).

Sergio's in the basement
Talkin’ consolidation
I'm at the keyboard
Thinking about the motives
The man in the bad sweater
Hand out, pissed-off
Says he's got a bad feelin’
Wants a big payoff
Look out kid
It's somethin' you said
God knows why
But you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin' for a new friend
A man in a Volkswagen cap
Holdin’ a big pen
Offering eleven billion dollar bills
But says you’re only worth ten

Mary talks good
Face doesn’t show it
Talkin' that the Mo put
Plants back but
What’s the point anyway
Mary says what many say
They must bang it in early May
Legacy from D.A.
Look out kid
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your high-heels
Don’t matter how it feels
Better stay away from those
Carryin’ around a doomsday hose
Keep a clean nose
Jettison those plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.

Ah get sick, get well
Hang around that Ford well
Ring bell, sure as hell
F-150’s gonna sell
Try hard, get tarred
Kick ass, do tell
Jump on the Insurance Institute if all else fails
Look out kids
You're gonna get hit
By users, poseurs
Six-time losers
Hangin’ around the cheap seats
Holdin’ you accountable
Lookin' for a new fool
Stop followin’ e-leaders
Watch those chargin’ meters.

Ah get born, stay warned
Read rants, no chance, it’s a dance
Get dressed, get stressed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don't whine, don't groan
Twenty years of schoolin'
And they send you to the Dead Zone
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better avoid the assholes
Light yourself a candle
Don't wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don't wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don't work
'Cause Elon took the handles.

And remember one more thing: Every time it seems like the good times will never end, inevitably they do. That has been the historical cadence for the Motor City and the auto biz as we know it ever since this whole thing got started.

This awesome, 17-million-unit Rocket Ride will run out of juice eventually, and at that point it won’t take a weather man to know which way the wind blows.

And that’s the High-Octane Truth for this week.