Setlist
Bitch / To My Surprise / Curse Curse / Come Home / Jam J / Honest Joe / Dear John / Catapult / Surfer’s Song / Sound / Sometimes / Attention
Support
n/a
Review
n/a
She’s A Star / Dear John / Move Down South / Catapult / Ring The Bells / Come Home / Interrogation / PS / Just Like Fred Astaire / What For / Surfer’s Song / Bitch / Curse Curse / Sometimes / Sound / Attention / Moving On / Nothing But Love
The Sherlocks
James’ summer season of gigs moved on to Sheffield for the opening night of the Music In The Gardens festival set in the picturesque surroundings of the Botanical Gardens on the outskirts of the city. In pouring rain, James delighted the picnic-toting crowd with a set heavy on recent number 2 album Girl At The End Of The World but with enough, but not all, of their big hits for everyone. Support came from Sheffield’s next big thing The Sherlocks.
It’s seven o clock when The Sherlocks take to the stage, unfeasibly early, but as their set progresses the venue does start to fill up and people get themselves up off their picnic mats and deckchairs to take a closer look at one of the country’s hottest tipped bands. To be fair to them, they’re on a bit of a hiding to nothing tonight – the £45 ticket price probably deprives them of much of their local teenage fan base that has carried them to the point where they’ve booked a huge tour in September in venues like The Ritz in Manchester and the sound, toned down for the residential area around the gardens, doesn’t help their full-on adrenalin-charged tales of growing up, falling in and out of love that have won them so many fans.
What’s reassuring though is that they don’t let this get to them. Kiran has developed into a much more dominant and confident front man than when we last saw them – and they display that cocksure assurance in what they’re doing it that tells you a band is ready to make the next step. Despite the hand they’ve been dealt, they still deliver a set full of power and passion – songs like Last Night, Escapade, a new one called Candlelight, Heart Of Gold, Live For The Moment and the closing Chasing Shadows suggest that they might emerge from the shadows of the city’s more famous sons and take the undoubted adulation they have here to the rest of the country.
It’s already started raining by the time James take to the stage and whilst we’ve been drowned at shows before (Porto 2014, Hardwick 2015), it’s not quite at those sort of levels so is more of an irritant than a trigger to let go and lose yourself in the ensuing carnage. The first few songs are marred by the sound as well; the venue set up is ill-equipped for a band of James’ scale and size if we’re being honest, but the FOH sound man more than earns his corn because after three songs he’s made the best of the cards he’s been dealt with and we can hear the separation between instruments and a great mix and disaster is averted.
They open with She’s A Star performed semi-acoustically with Adrian on cello and Tim dedicates to Nicola Sturgeon as the only politician who knows what she’s doing. Dear John bears the brunt of the aforementioned sound problems but still comes out the other side triumphant just about. Move Down South turns the heat up a little, even if lyrically the tales of deserts being drilled out in the drought possibly not quite connecting with a Sheffield audience with rain running down their foreheads. There’s no concession to the possibility that this might be more your greatest hits festival type crowd as they then go into Catapult and Tim makes his first venture down to the barrier despite the rain that has the band set back on the stage to avoid electrocution.
The crowd really comes alive as they strike up into Ring The Bells and Come Home; the rain becoming an irrelevance as people let loose and the band look as if they’re being fuelled on by the reaction they’re getting. Interrogation is a dark, claustrophobic song, but one that feels quite fitting in these very strange times in which we’re living, and as the rain starts to hit home harder as the band reach an improvised section that lifts the song to its conclusion, we’re all uplifted by the spontaneity and the whirlpool of energy they’re creating. James 2016 feels fresher, more invigorated than they have done for a long time and even the austerity of the sound set-up can’t disguise that as the sound man is performing miracles by this point.
Tim stops to tell us about the safety pin campaign to show support for fellow Europeans and those from the rest of our planet that are being subjected to attack from the uneducated fascists that are emboldened by the country’s ridiculous referendum vote to express their hatred and bigotry that angers any right-minded person (our words not his). Anyone who doesn’t get this political and socially conscientious side to James, which has always been there, doesn’t get the band.
PS is nothing to do with that, as Tim deadpans, but it is possibly the highlight of the evening. It’s far from an obvious (or even sensible) choice for this type of event, but rather than get lost in the open air, it feels like Saul’s violin and Adrian’s slide bounce off the trees and envelop us with their beauty. Things are kept low-key with two more semi-acoustic songs; Fred’s transformation from soaring love-struck ballad into an acoustic bass and guitar led folk beast is complete whilst What For and it’s edgy, always on the edge of breakdown delivery is a real genuine throwback to a time when the band were on the cusp, riding a wave that the music press were ignoring as they are now.
It’s then back to the Girl At The End Of The World for two more songs. Surfer’s Song, which Tim tells us is about watching the surf and gay marriage, has been the real revelation from the album when played live. It encapsulates the raw vigorous energy of the record in its four minutes perhaps more than anything else on it. Tim comes down to the barrier and goes surfing and there’s a worrying moment where it looks like he’s thrown up in the air and left to fall, but he manages to just about recover and make his way back on a sea of arms and held up mobile phones. That rumbling belligerent opening section to Bitch is made for more powerful set ups than this one, but having retired further back where the sound is less impacted, it also has that vitality that you wouldn’t expect from a band of this vintage. Curse Curse has a similar impact.
Sometimes, always appropriate when you’ve got rain dripping off your forehead into your eyes, is an absolute triumph. It feels like it might just be the one song that they could never drop from their set such is the communion it ignites in the crowd singing that line “sometimes when I look in your eyes, I can see your soul.” It goes into Sound which again battles the odds and wins, Andy appearing down on the barrier with bright red trumpet urging the masses on to lose themselves further in the music, not that any invitation is needed.
Attention completes the main set. Tim tells us it might be a new song, but “it’s a fucking good one” and it is indeed. It has to be to keep its position at the end of the set and tonight, like at so many of the shows, the audience get it from the slow build to the dramatic dropdown and the song slowly building back in aided by a thousand pair of clapping hands. It might not quite get the impact of the lights as it does indoors, but it’s still potent, powerful and final confirmation that they’re still a force to be reckoned with.
Never content with just doing the obvious and eschewing so many easy choices (Sit Down, Laid, Say Something, Tomorrow etc etc), the encore is very much about the here and now. Moving On is particularly poignant for Tim as his mother, whose death the song is about, spent her final days not too far from here whilst Nothing But Love seems to have inspired a new “dance”, the swaying from side to side, arms around the person next to you in a sign of coming together in celebration is adopted at least where we’re stood. It’s the final proof that this band, whatever grouping they might get lumped into by the laziness of the music press, is one of the here and now not some heady bygone era.
The beaming smiles on the drenched crowd as they stream out of the park rain rolling down their cheeks tells its own story – a joyful uplifting night despite the weather and despite the sound which could have blighted the evening had it not been for the unsung heroes that make evenings like this seem like they run like clockwork.
James played She’s A Star, Dear John, Move Down South, Catapult, Ring The Bells, Come Home, Interrogation, PS, Just Like Fred Astaire, What For, Surfer’s Song, Bitch, Sometimes, Sound, Attention, Moving On and Nothing But Love.
Saul made an impassioned speech about the UK’s decision to leave the European Union that had been announced earlier that morning.
Nothing But Love / To My Surprise / Come Home / Sometimes / Surfer’s Song / Attention / Out To Get You / Bitch / Moving On / Curse Curse / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) / Tomorrow / Laid
n/a
n/a
Walk Like You / To My Surprise / Catapult / Waking / Move Down South / Sit Down / Sometimes / PS / Dear John / She’s A Star / Just Like Fred Astaire / Bitch / Surfer’s Song / Curse Curse / Tomorrow / Come Home / Attention / Out To Get You / Moving On / Nothing But Love / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)
n/a
n/a
Dream Thrum / To My Surprise / Move Down South / Catapult / Moving On / Sometimes / PS / Dear John / Feet Of Clay / She’s A Star / Just Like Fred Astaire / Bitch / Surfer’s Song / Tomorrow / Sound / Attention / Out To Get You / Nothing But Love / Come Home
n/a
James hadn’t played in Amsterdam since 1992 on a balmy night across town at the Paradiso, but returned as part of a trio of European dates that also took in Paris and Berlin. In a 500-capacity venue where the band and crowd were almost eyeball to eyeball, James mixed songs from their number 2 album Girl At The End Of The World with some of their biggest hits and favourites from their back catalogue on a truly special night.
Seeing your favourite band in a tiny European venue is a really special experience. Firstly, like James tonight, they are performing in a venue far smaller than you’d see them in at home, there’s no space or budget for the big lighting show, the expansive sound set up. It’s raw, naked and vulnerable, but James thrive in that environment and the looks on their faces tells us that they’re having one of those nights where everything flows and feels perfect.
The Oude Zaal of the Melkweg is a wonderful venue, it holds around 500 in a circular shape with a balcony and has a fabulous sound set-up, imperative for a band of eight that James are live these days, but there are moments of delicious subtlety that are so perfectly amplified and separated that the impact of it brings grown men and women to tears.
They open with Dream Thrum from Laid and that sound quality is immediately obvious, the fragility of the arrangements crystal clear and the band, as they were for much of the recent UK tour, appear to have found that intuitive connection that makes some tours stand out even more from the crowd. From there they go into three songs from Girl – the lead track To My Surprise, Move Down South and Catapult – that channel the power of the record and then release it with cyclonic impact. They’re immediate and they get the audience moving, even if they’re not so familiar with them (the biggest record shop in town didn’t have the new album when we looked earlier in the day) to the point that we don’t hear a single moan about the non-inclusion of Sit Down, Laid, Ring The Bells and a plethora of their other best-known songs.
Moving On, a tale about coming to terms with the death of loved ones, feels particularly poignant in an environment as raw and naked as this one. Sometimes has a magnificent uplifting feel to it and five hundred voices, a mixture of Dutch, British, German and a few from further afield, join in the chorus that feels like some form of catharsis and release. Adrian deserves special mention for making the guitar solo very much his own; true to the original, but very much his own man and an integral part of the live sound.
PS comes from the same album, but is a completely different beast – a spitting, vitriolic vocal delivered with venom and finishing with Tim standing agog, as we do, then starting to dance at the improvised interaction between Saul’s violin and Andy’s trumpet that entwine around each other. When the band surprise each other like this, then you know you’re witnessing something extraordinary. Dear John and Feet Of Clay follow and give further demonstration, not that any is needed tonight, that this band aren’t just capable of the big hitters that they’re best known for. Mark’s keyboards and Andy whistling through his trumpet provide the canvas for the revelations of the former, whilst the latter packs a punch that belies its recorded version without ever compromising its tenderness.
She’s A Star and Just Like Fred Astaire form the semi-acoustic section with Adrian on cello and Jim on that magnificent acoustic bass he’s brought out this year. Once again the songs benefit from the separation in the sound that accentuates each and every instrument. As Fred picks up pace in this unfamiliar arrangement, Tim loses himself completely in the music as do we and that continues, albeit at a wildly different pace as they return to Girl for Bitch and Surfer’s Song.
These two songs are some of the boldest examples of the James 2016 sound. The three minute introduction with its throbbing thrilling insistent bass line turns up the temperature in the room a notch higher, whilst the latter has been a revelation at the live shows, audiences being simply bowled over by the song accelerating just about in control but thrillingly on the edge of potential breakdown.
It’s testament to them that Tomorrow and Sound, monoliths of many a James set, don’t overpower or overwhelm them. Recollections by this point are slightly hazy as everyone is so lost in the music, in a world where everything else is shut out for ninety magical minutes. As well as a lot of love in the room for the band, the audience are as one, a joyful celebration of the band returning after so long away or seeing them perform in such intimate surroundings. Andy joins us in the centre of the floor mid way through Sound as we create a circle around him.
They finish with Attention, the real show-stopper on the recent UK tour. As it reaches the breakdown where the two elements of the song come together and then go their separate ways, the audience come in and almost beat-perfect raise it with hand clapping at a volume that belies their numbers until the song explodes back into life and light spectacularly.
Out To Get You opens up the encore, so crisp and sharp you think it might snap in two if pressed, but every note feels like a heart string is being plucked as well as the guitar string. Mark has made his way to the front of the stage and the interaction between him and Saul has Tim mesmerised as it does us – he lets himself go and loses himself in the music as many of those around us do too. Nothing But Love sees a wonderfully poignant moment where large sections of the crowd wrap arms around each other’s shoulders and sway, dance and sing along. It encapsulates the magic and the feeling of unity that’s been created (there’s a few references to the upcoming referendum) by the eight of them up on stage.
There’s no way we’re going to let them leave it at that and they have no intention of going anywhere. Tim suggests Come Home and very soon joins us in the crowd, falling on top of us and being lifted around the room, the crowd managing to both dance and move Tim around without dropping him although he does look a mix of shaken and exhilarated when he gets back to the stage.
Amsterdam was a wonderful experience. The band were as good as I’ve seen them for a very long time, thriving on the intense intimate environment they are performing in, feeding off the energy of a crowd that’s there to enjoy themselves rather than drink themselves into incoherence. The set list is a challenging one that refuses to take the easy route of rolling out a series of hits because they haven’t been to the Netherlands for so long. Amongst us national barriers are irrelevant, everyone is united by a common love of music, the adrenalin rush of a loud guitar and crashing propulsive drums, the contemplative beauty of a violin solo and the impact one man’s words can have on so many.
I’d recommend to anyone going to Europe to watch their favourite band play in these types of venues where there is none of the protection that bigger stages and huge production provide a protection and distance of sorts. The environment, the fans, the connection between them and the band made this one of the very best James gigs I’ve ever been to and looking around at the beaming faces both on stage and in the crowd, I doubt I was the only one feeling that.
Dream Thrum / Catapult / To My Surprise / Bitch / Moving On / Alvin / Waking / Surfer’s Song / She’s A Star / Just Like Fred Astaire / Out To Get You / Interrogation / Dear John / Sound / Sometimes / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) / Attention / PS / Come Home / Nothing But Love
n/a
n/a
MBW’s Manager Of The Month celebrates some of the artist managers doing great things in the global business. This month, we’re delighted to sit down with Peter Rudge (pictured) – a key player at Vector Management and a man whose career has seen him look after The Who, The Rolling Stones and Diana Ross. Manager Of The Month is supported by INgrooves Music Group.
“Everything’s groundhog day in this business. There’s no situation you can throw at me that I haven’t, at some point or another, dealt with in the past.”
Peter Rudge holds a pedigree of working with true rock’n’roll royalty.
A Cambridge graduate with a degree in history, British veteran Rudge has combined a sharp intellect with shrewd deal-making across more than four decades in the music biz – earning the loyalty of some of the biggest acts on earth.
After leaving university in 1968, Rudge joined the London-based Track label, whose roster included Jimi Hendrix and Marc Bolan.
From there, he built relationships with two huge artists as tour manager for the Rolling Stones and The Who – going on to manage both groups outright for most of the ’70s, while also working with Roger Waters, Duran Duran and Madness.
“With The Stones and The Who I was lucky,” says Rudge. “In that instance, I managed to work with bands that could have done it without me.”
This was a heady time for the young exec, who also worked with Diana Ross and even produced Andy Warhol’s US cable TV show.
However, Rudge‘s career hasn’t been without its sadness.
In 1977, he was managing an on-the-rise Lynyrd Skynyrd. Just as the Southern rock band stood on the verge of a worldwide breakthrough, they were involved in a tragic plane crash in Mississippi, killing three members of the group.
Understandably, it’s the moment Rudge marks as the toughest of his professional and personal life to date.
In the modern era, Rudge has shown himself to be a smart operator – and, crucially, one who knows his limits.
“I WAS LUCKY WITH THE STONES AND THE WHO – THEY COULD HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT ME.”
In the late ’90s, he merged his own management roster with marketing giant Octagon, where he began working with the likes of record-breaking operatic group Il Divo – whom he continues to represent today.
He went on to launch Proper Artist Management in conjunction with Live Nation – before Proper itself merged with Vector Management (The Kings Of Leon, Kesha, Emmylou Harris) in 2014.
These days, Rudge looks after the likes of Imelda May, currently working on a new record with T Bone Burnett, and Nick Mulvey – the Fiction-signed, Mercury-nominated singer/songwriter who, we’re told, is tinkering in the studio with Brian Eno.
Then there’s also Il Divo, who recently sold out five dates at the Budokan in Tokyo, and Alfie Boe – currently starring on Broadway in Finding Neverland, and readying a new project with Michael Ball signed up by Universal/Decca.
Yet the artist with whom Rudge is most closely associated today is a band he’s worked with for 30 years: Tim Booth-fronted Manchester heroes James.
The reason for Rudge‘s status as MBW’s Manager Of the Month becomes clear: James are currently romping around Europe on a sold-out tour, following the successful release of latest album Girl At The End Of The World, which recently hit No.2 on the Official UK chart – a smidgen behind Adele’s 25.
The release was put together on an ‘artist services’ basis with BMG, whose Korda Marshall says: “Peter’s experience has been a real benefit to the strategy and planning of the campaign. I think our respective teams have learned a lot from each other.
“He combines that experience with a freshness and enthusiasm and desire to get things done.
“I think what he likes at BMG is that its a very honest and open working relationship. And you have to remember he has managed the band for 30 years – his standards are high.”
MBW sat down with Peter to grab some insight into these high standards – and to discover what the best part of half a century in management has taught him…
You’ve been with James for over three decades. That’s a long time to work with any rock star…
I know – you get less for murder! I’ve worked with James from 1992 and it’s been one of my career’s great privileges.
I was brought in to look after America because I was spending most of my time there back then.
As luck would have it, that was during the time they were recording Laid, which of course was a seminal record in America – at one point we’d shipped over a million albums.
As Sit Down has become a rite of passage for young people in the UK, Laid [the track] has become in America, helped by the fact it’s used in the American Pie films.
For the past 11 years, Meredith Plant’s been my co-manager on James and she should take much of the credit.
We’ve managed the live thing very well over the years. It helps that we’ve had one promoter forever: Simon Moran.
James were one of the first bands Simon ever promoted when he started, and we all think a lot of him – he’s been as much as partner as anybody.
We also work with John Giddings at Solo, who’s done a great job.
Why have you signed James to BMG – and on an artist services deal – for their past two albums?
We’ve been playing at this ‘artist services’ thing for some time. Funnily enough, James’s Hey Ma album, which came out on Mercury [in 2008], was actually released on a similar model.
We realised that a band which has managed to have a lifespan this long eventually hits a glass ceiling. As we all know, it’s a very fickle industry.
When that happens at the major labels, you’re consigned almost immediately to the commercial marketing divisions – repackaging this and that, budget pricing…
We went to Mercury for Hey Ma, who had our catalogue, and tried to design something similar we have with the BMG Rights thing now.
We did a joint venture deal with Mercury; [Universal’s] Adam Barker was really good, as was Jason Iley [now Sony Music UK boss], who was in charge of the label back then.
The model we picked was a little bit of a hybrid – it felt like the runt of the litter within the Universal system. However, it showed us that this may be the way to go. We took a rest, and then started talking to BMG.
It was pretty apparent from the beginning that BMG’s ambition was right, the model was interesting, but they didn’t quite have the resources they do today . That’s why we partnered with Cooking Vinyl – with Martin [Goldschmidt].
That album was pretty successful. We liked it, James were allowed creative input [into the campaign]; it was a very respectful relationship.
Then, to BMG’s credit, they brought Korda Marshall in. Also, Thomas Haimovici had been there a while and, I have to say, immediately related to the group well.
James, like many bands, usually won’t allow an A&R guy in the parking lot, let alone in the studio! But Thomas got their trust and respect – he was very helpful and didn’t undermine anything.
Then Korda, coming from Infectious, arrived at BMG with a philosophy that was very akin to James’s own. And that also brought in Pat Carr and Jo Power, who are both great marketing people.
We’ve now signed a new deal, including options. Most [services] deals are on a one album basis, but we’ve established a long-term relationship.
Let’s talk about your business experiences. Why did you merge your company Proper with Live Nation?
In the late ’90s, I’d teamed up with Octagon, an IPG company. I thought then, and I was right, that you could see the writing was on the wall for small management companies.
As the labels imploded, management companies would have to take up much of the slack and smaller ones without resource wouldn’t be able to survive.
I looked at Octagon, and thought, ‘That’s the new landscape.’ I needed to be in bed with someone that had access to [ad agencies] Deutsch, McCann Erickson etc.
In the end, it didn’t really work because [advertising] operates on a totally different timeline to music; it’s a very different world – and a different culture. It was a great learning experience for me, though.
I hooked up with Il Divo during that time, which frankly I probably wouldn’t have got without the promise of McCann Erickson and [ad] companies investing in them.
One of my oldest friends in the business, Irving Azoff, was then Live Nation’s management division.
We bumped into each other and he said: ‘Why don’t you come and be with us?’ And I knew that was where I wanted to go.
There are a lot of stories and a lot of opinions about Irving, but he’s a great manager – a fantastic manager. Always has been.
Then Irving left [Live Nation in late 2012] and [Michael] Rapino took over the management side. Although I was operating as Proper, Live Nation still owned a chunk of my business.
After Irving went, Rapino re-calibrated the artist management platform and built it around three central parts: Roc Nation, Maverick and Vector.
I’d been a friend of [Vector President] Jack Rovner for years since when I used to manage Roger Waters. We decided to go into partnership together, and I set up Vector over here in Europe.
How do you find being part of Live Nation – both before the Vector move and now – when you’ve been an independent force for much of your career?
To be honest, I get the best of both worlds. It’s essentially given me what any manager now needs: a larger footprint internationally, and a much larger bandwidth.
I can access resources that I would never have been able to use before – in the digital world, in the branding world, in the sync world. I’m lucky.
I’ve been a manager for 40 years in this business. I’ve got my own relationships; people know me.
My track record means I’m usually seen as a safe pair of hands.
My Rolodex is big; I’m two or three calls away from anybody. That’s the only good thing about getting old – you grow up with everybody else!
It’s funny: I must have lived through 25 Presidents of Columbia Records during my career, while dealing with the same promoters in the UK and US for pretty much the entire time.
That tells you something about the live business; it’s just a different DNA.
What’s been the proudest moment and most difficult moment of your career?
Management’s very lonely.
Success has many fathers, and failure none. Before you put every album out the artist thinks it’s going to be No.1, or go down brilliantly.
After a record has collapsed when you’ve had high expectations, when the phone stops ringing and everyone moves on to the next release, it’s hard.
Sometimes it feels like labels sell products, while managers try to develop careers. There’s been some lows because of that.
The first thing I ever did in the music business of any substance was The Who with Tommy – and the first gig I ever did in America was The Who at Metropolitan Opera House.
I was 23 years old, looking through the Yellow Pages to find the Met. I got through to the General Manager, and talked him into allowing me to see Rudolph Bing who was running the Met in those days. I completely blagged it.
Rudolph agreed for The Who to play [the Met] on July 7, 1970. Pete Townshend smashed his guitar on stage that night, leaving a room full of people gasping.
That to me was my greatest achievement – but then it was my first one and I’ve tried to live up to it ever since.
A perfect bookend to that story is that we are now in negotiations to stage the classical version of Quadrophenia at the Met next year; the version of the show which opened with the fantastic Alfie Boe playing Jimmy at the Royal Albert Hall last year, a show featuring Pete Townshend, Phil Daniels, Billy Idol and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
I’m also very proud of Il Divo – we’ve sold over 30 million albums across the world with barely a spin at radio or a single bit of positive press. Working with them has taught me more about selling records than any other project I’ve done. We’re into our 13th year together and they’ve remained on Syco the entire time.
And of course I’m very proud of being part of keeping James in the game for 30 years. Most of their contemporaries from that Manchester scene have either disappeared or are just going around and around [on reunion tours].
James still push themselves to be contemporary and relevant – and that’s something which has been authenticated with this album.
My saddest moment was obviously the Lynyrd Skynyrd plane crash. I’d been part of taking them from a club band up and up – I put them on The Who tour and it was a big moment.
We did really well; Southern Rock was still pretty parochial at that stage.
Two weeks after that plane crash they were due to headline the Madison Square Garden in front of 18,000 people. It was never to be.
On a personal level, that plane crash is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, period.
The Stones. The Who. Diana Ross. You have worked with some strong characters! How do you deal with it when things go wrong?
I always say to any prospective client that my greatest value to an artist is honesty and objectivity.
People will tell me things they’ll never tell you, as an artist, and it’s my job to be straight with you.
Just as in life, a relationship is never tested until you disagree.
For me to disagree with you as an artist doesn’t mean to say I don’t believe in you. I understand what you’re saying, but I recommend another course of action.
I’m in the industry 24/7. I have been for 40 years. I know how this business works. As an artist, you come in and out of it – sometimes every two or three years.
When you explain that, artists tend to respect you. They don’t always like you, but there are too many people in this business who say yes, yes, yes – and it comes back to bite you on the ass.
What advice would you give young managers today?
Don’t kid yourself that you have all the answers – no-one does.
You should find an ally, and if it’s necessary for you to partner with someone who you feel has more experience or relationship that will help your artist, it will only help you in the long run.
There’s no doubt that young guys who were there at a start of a success often get removed [by bigger or more experienced players] so you need to try and neutralize that before it has a chance of happening.
That’s why finding a home or a nest is not a bad idea. No-one’s going to take all the money so long as you deal with the right people.
But the first port of call with all young managers is: go find a lawyer who’s going to protect you, advise you and make sure the paperwork is right.
Don’t be adamant to do it all yourself if you don’t feel qualified.
You were 70 a few weeks ago. I’m sure you could spend your life on a beach if you liked. Why do you still keep doing what you do in music?
I’m still really enjoying it. A month like the past month with James is everything I ever wanted to do.
30 years with a great band like that, and still seeing them get a nod, it means a lot to me.
That’s all I ask for as a manager – for my artists to get the shot they deserve.