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Interviewed
by Michael Laskow
Where did you grow up?
I was born and raised in Indianapolis, Indiana and lived there
until I was 18.
And did you move to New York then?
No. I went to college at the University of Pennsylvania in
Philadelphia. As a kid, I wanted to be a professional baseball
player. But then, like so many other people my age, the Beatles
came on television and changed my life.
So how did you get from there to the music business?
I didn't really know the music business existed, because my
family was in an entirely different business. It had nothing
to do with entertainment or music or anything. But I really
wanted to play music. I went to the University of Pennsylvania,
but two summers before that I started cruising around the country
and encountering musicians from outside of my home town for
the first time. In the summer of 1969 I went to a series of
pop festivals that culminated in going to Woodstock.
At what point did you get your first real job in the music
industry, and what was it?
My first real job in the industry was a year and a half ago.
Really? You'd better give the short version of what you did
for the last twenty years.
It's really a simple story. I went to college. Two years into
college, the American government bombed Cambodia. I quit college.
I traveled around the world for three years. I had my guitar
with me. I discovered songwriting while I was traveling in the
backs of buses through Central and South America. I met people
from Los Angeles, and they said, "You know, you have some talent.
If you ever decide to go back to the States, come to California
and you can stay at my house." Three years later I took them
up on the offer, and drove a Volkswagen squareback to California.
I parked it and walked in—my friend said, "What do you know?"
I played my six chords and he played his six chords and said,
"Well, let's make a band."
Eventually,
I discovered a music school in LA called the Dick Grove School
of Music. I was a student there for three years. I was a grunt,
working the front office. I eventually became the head of Financial
Aid, then I became the Registrar, and eventually I became one
of the key people running the school.
Did you use that as a springboard?
Yeah. During that time I was given the task of booking all of
the seminars for the school. I saw an opportunity to network.
So I took a mailing list, and started inviting these top music
industry people to come and do seminars. I met the people in
the music industry who eventually helped shaped my career.
In
the 1980's I started writing songs more seriously and I got
a break. I submitted a song through a fellow named David Landau
to Mel Brooks for the movie Spaceballs.
Did you get the gig?
Yes, and I got to meet Mel Brooks. It was the first cover I
ever really had. And I got to see how the process worked, and
what covers meant, and what the recognition could do for my
career. One of the songs that I wrote made it to Arista Music
Publishing. They pitched it to Clive Davis, and he put it on
hold for Jermaine Jackson and they offered me a songwriting
deal. So, in 1986 I was signed as an exclusive staff songwriter
and a co-publishing deal to Arista Music Publishing and I stayed
there for four years.
I'm glad I asked for the short version of that story! Just
kidding. It's a great example of how a kid from the sticks can
make it to the big leagues. What happened next?
At the end of those four years Danny Strick came in to run BMG
North America, which was the parent publishing company that
bought Arista Music Publishing during the switch over. Danny
and I knew each other from when I used to bug the hell out of
him pitching songs. He listened to what I was doing and asked
me to stay on. I discovered a songwriter named Rhett Lawrence
and brought him to Danny's attention. Danny signed him to a
deal and shortly after that Rhett worked with Mariah Carey and
that sort of alerted the company to the idea that I might be
good behind a desk. I'd like to go on record saying that almost
everything I have accomplished, I accomplished because I was
a songwriter.
Consider it said. What's your title now?
Senior Director of East Coast Creative Services for BMG Music
Publishing.
I may have to shorten that to get it under your picture!
What's the range of responsibilities in your job?
Well, my mom asks me this question all the time. You know the
hardest thing in the music business is to explain to your mother,
or your father, or your friends back home in Indiana what the
hell you do for a living. Because it seems ridiculous.
Well, give it your best shot Woody (laughter), I mean Clyde.
I'm responsible for all creative decisions and events that occur
in this office. That includes signing new talent on the pop
side, overseeing the signings and new talent on the urban side.
Working with all BMG writers whenever they work in the New York
area. Signing new writers in the New York area. Developing relationships
with all of the A&R people in the New York area. Looking for
talent all up and down the eastern seaboard, including Canada
in certain circumstances. Liaising with all of our European
brethren at BMG Europe. And obviously, administering all of
this paperwork that you see ( I saw plenty! ed.) that is part
of the job.
And just for the record, you've got at least 200 cassettes
and CD's on your desk.
Somebody asked me the other day if all the stuff on my desk
had been listened to. The answer is that pretty much of it has,
but ultimately it won't get a shot at BMG, but it was interesting
enough to stay on the desk for the time being. And five times
that much didn't stay on the desk!
Also for the record, there are at least another 200 cassettes
over there.
Easily.
Where do most of the tapes come from that are the ones that
you actually do listen to?
When I was a songwriter and people would say to me, "It's better
if your tape comes from a manager or from a lawyer." I used
to really bristle at that. Then I realized that the industry
was bigger than just its components. There were cogs. There
was a wheel turning. And when you were told, "Gee, listen kid,
if a lawyer that I know brings me this tape, it's more likely
to get listened to." I would think, "Why lawyers?" I mean, they're
not musicians. But a lot of things I've found out are really
kind of surprising in a cool way.
Almost
every lawyer I work with has some musical background. And the
thing is that those guys like music, and they are knowledgeable
and no one said their knowledge is any more or less right on
than mine. The only difference is that if they're going to get
their jobs done properly, they don't set aside as many hours
in a day to listen as I'm supposed to.
However,
the good news and the bad news is that now that I have a 9:00
AM to 2:00 AM job. My phone starts ringing at 9:00 in the morning
at home. My writers from L.A. frequently call me at 2:00 in
the morning, which is only 11:00 PM for them. It's just an accepted
part of the business.
You
discover that the music has to come from somewhere and if you
just accepted all music from all people, you wouldn't get your
job done. So most music comes recommended by someone who you
have a personal relationship with. It's always from somebody
you know.
What's BMG's policy on unsolicited material?
We don't accept unsolicited tapes, and also to be very, very,
very blunt, they won't get listened to.
How do you see the roles of publishers and/or A&R people
changing as the information superhighway makes its way into
the music business?
If you're talking about how things will be delivered to me,
it doesn't make me any happier if somebody can send me their
music by modem or over a fax line on my commuter as opposed
to me having the CD. It doesn't effect what I do at all. It
is meaningless. It's either music or it's not music.
The
issue is will my profession of music publishing or that of a
record executive become obsolete? That's the issue, and that's
important. Will an A&R executive, whether in publishing or records
have a significant role to play? If you can go into your garage
and on a great ADAT system make a wonderful mix-down-to DAT
tape, which you will go out and press 5,000 CD's and send it
over the Internet or whatever into all of these people, and
people say, "I want to buy it—how do I buy it?" And you send
it to them by a modem over a telephone line... Those issues
are being looked at by executives at a much higher level than
me.
Those
people are sitting in board rooms right now saying, "How do
we control the copyright usage if somebody records at home,
and sends the information by computer to another computer? How
do we get word of this?
It's
not going to affect the established major artists such as Sting
or Barbara Streisand. But it will affect how music is purchased
and hence, how royalties are paid in the future and that directly
affects my business.
What do you love most about your job?
The big advantage of being where I am right now is that I can
be involved in the education of young musicians at the same
time that I get paid to be a creative source for my company
while still being an executive. I get the opportunity to give
something back to people who mirror who I was twenty years ago.
In some cases I help them miss potholes that they were going
to fall into or sometimes help them out of that hole. Or sometimes,
hopefully block the hole and give them another route to go.
That's what I love about what I do.
Are there any potholes that you can warn our readers about
before they fall in?
Everybody overproduces their music. It's absolutely unnecessary.
Especially if you are trying to write songs to be noticed by
music publishers as opposed to being in a group. But even in
a group, whether it's R&B, hip hop or alternative, or soft rock
or whatever, almost everything we receive that doesn't come
from savvy people is overproduced. Production is not what we
base our decision on.
When you sign a deal with someone, is that decision based
on personal taste, or are you signing something that will be
right for the company?
Everybody in the music industry will tell you that it if you
let your personal taste constantly interfere with what you sign
you might lose your job. Some people will argue with that. My
opinion is that if you're not moved and passionate about something,
you probably won't try to make a deal with it. However, at sometime
in the process you have to ask yourself is there an opportunity
for my company to be successful with this artist or this writer?
If I believe that the answer is "no", that doesn't mean I won't
go after it. It probably does mean that I will tell the people
sitting on the board of my company, this is an artistic decision
purely from my viewpoint. I believe in this artist. I can't
guarantee you anything.
When
this company decided to sign Ace of Base on the recommendation
of myself and people from Arista Records and other people inside
this company, we were making a decision that would, from the
outside, appear to be a purely financial one. Like, it's pop
music—what's the big art? But truth be told, there is some
great songwriting on that record. So, we were going for the
talent. We were happy to make the money.
So you're looking at the writer's career as well.
When people walk in here, we only look at one thing. Can they
write a song and does that song hold together under the scrutiny
of all of the creative people in this company. Because this
is a consensus oriented company. We make decisions together.
How would you suggest that a songwriter from Pig Valley Idaho
get his tape the people in the music industry?
Songwriters have to do everything pretty much by tape. Their
presence is fairly irrelevant in the beginning. My first recommendation
to almost everybody who is a songwriter would be go to the nearest
big city or the nearest city where there is an ASCAP or BMI
office. Get the local rep to hear it. That's what ASCAP and
BMI and SESAC are there for. They should take advantage of that.
The
most important thing to do if you're a songwriter is to make
your demos concise so that when I get them and I put them on
the song is easy to hear. Don't make them so I have to listen
through a bunch of production.
People always ask us before they join TAXI, "How good do
my tapes have to be? All I have is a four track or an eight
track at home." We tell them if you're a songwriter, four tracks
or an eight track is definitely all you need.
Definitely. Don't ever go into a 24 track studio. You are only
going to screw it up. It's not where song demos are made.
If that kid from Pig Valley walked into your office right
now, what sage advice would you give to him or her?
My first piece of sage advice is keep your music simple and
to the point. Present it in the most honest and direct manner
that you can at all times. Try not to get obsessed with the
business. Try to stay obsessed with music. Don't let the music
business become the reason that you're making music. It will
destroy your music. It will destroy you in many cases.
Therefore,
my number one piece of advice would be make your music as good
as you can make it. And if you make it and then play it as much
you can, especially if you are in a band, you can get recognized.
A lot of the most successful bands in America are not from L.A.
or New York or Chicago. A lot of them come from Raleigh/Durham,
North Carolina, or from Bloomington, Indiana, or from Springfield,
Illinois, or from Kansas City...they can come from anywhere.
Look at Seattle. There was a place that nurtured those musicians.
It gave them an opportunity to live the life that they needed
to live in order to create the music that they have created.
It's never going to be like it was in Los Angeles and New York
again. That's one thing that the information superhighway will
change forever.
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