Therapy, Fear, and the Cost of Reacting: Freud Meets Rock
I was the heaviest producer from my second day on the job at Associated Booking Corp., right out of college. I say this not to brag, but to suggest how massive my workload was that I became so. My secretary was out sick, in fact dying, and I was begging our accountant, Dave Gold, who was also a partner in the company, for a temporary secretary until the fate of my secretary could be adjudicated.
Following my writing and marketing of Once A King, Now A Prince, which is not only a memoir inspiring act, but also working in reverse, I am finally working with a PTSD therapist after all these decades, and she is a wonderful one at that. Two of the worst cases of my overreacting in my life involved the agency I first worked for, Associated Booking Corp., and the one I owned and founded, American Talent International, LTD, a major rock booking agency of its era.
What we are working on is my lifelong lack of ability to not be able to “act,” which, in its place, I had chosen to “react.” This latter reactive type of retort, or reaction, is mostly based on anger, and, of course, everyone knows that anger stems from fear. Is this rational? No. Is it helpful in finding solutions? No.
So, what we work on is how to slow down my reactiveness, to take a breath, and think about what is in my best interests in dealing with what was making me angry, what I was fearful of in a given situation, and what “not so funny bone” someone hit. Looking back now, this memoir inspiring moment has become one of the defining lessons in my career and part of a memoir inspiring life story. In many ways, therapy itself has become part of this memoir inspiring reflection on how reaction shaped my career.
My First Explosion at Associated Booking Corp.
In the case of Associated Booking Corporation, I, of course, was not thinking, but reacting. I resented the fact that, while on vacation for six weeks, the boss had placed an accountant in charge of the business. Now we all know what attorneys did to the music industry, so you can imagine what an accountant “brought to the table.”
After one too many arguments with Gold about a replacement, I was at my wits’ end, or so I thought, as I felt “trapped” in an untenable situation. I did not think; I reacted, and I did not do so in any small fashion. I screamed at Gold to take ABC and shove it up his ass, told him I quit, and stormed out the door.
I could have done myself harm, as not only was I only three years in the music industry professionally, but I also had my own little agency while in college. I also had a few acts, but none could fill big venues, which gave the agent a power base. What I had at that moment was a non-intentional and self-inflicted potential ruination of my career. I was not thinking, essentially gambling with my own future, but could not, at that time, think everything through, including the consequences of my action. In hindsight, this moment became part of a memoir inspiring lesson about fear, anger, and reaction.
The Same Mistake at American Talent International
As I wrote in my celebrity memoir, “Once A King, Now A Prince,” I did the very same thing at American Talent International. In the case of ATI, it was the total loss of faith in and betrayal, at least in my mind, by my two partners, Jeff Franklin and Sol Saffian.
That chapter remains one of the more memoir inspiring sections of my celebrity memoir, because it shows how reaction rather than action can reshape an entire career.
Jeff was not one I could ever get close to, and maybe that was because, in certain respects, he was self-dealing. When Jeff flew to the West Coast, I never believed his trips benefited our company. When he got to L. A., he would tell those who he would meet that Sol and I worked for him, rather than being equal partners. There was much to look at with Jeff, in my opinion, but in those days, I never thought I had the business tools to deal with it. So I did not.
At one point, Jeff informed me that he was managing some act, one that, in my opinion, was garbage and would never go anywhere. I did not bother to act, as his doing so was contrary to a partnership agreement, when I should have. Fear of conflict allowed me to pass over it by thinking, “his junk artist was going nowhere, so it was a waste of time to get in his face.”
Sometime after that, Sol got it into his alcohol-sopped brain that he, too, was a fine picker of talent, and also acquired an artist for management, who I also thought was garbage. Once again, I did nothing at the time, fearing conflict. These are the kinds of decisions that later become memoir inspiring reflections on leadership and hesitation.
Rush, Partnership Betrayal, and the Breaking Point
What I finally did to counter their moves was to take on a management client of my own. Being the one who signed most of our roster and a far, far superior talent picker, I signed to a management contract with the band Rush, who have an entire chapter dedicated to them in my celebrity memoir book, “Once A King, Now A Prince,” at a time when the band Rush was still emerging on the North American touring circuit.
Sol and I were good friends; we socialized out of the office, and I decided to be honest with him. I told him about Rush. However, we had a clear understanding that he was to keep his mouth shut about it and never tell Jeff or anyone else.
Rush, under my game plan, took off in a fast and furious manner. In retrospect, I think when Sol saw the rise of Rush and the non-rise of his management client, jealousy may have led him to tell Jeff about Rush.
Since I was the one who was always in England and signed all the rock groups we had on our U.K. heavy roster at American Talent International, I had the power to use that against my partners and force them into a more open relationship about our business.
Walking Away From Power at ATI
As a result of the betrayal that I felt by Sol telling Jeff about Rush, and being somewhat pissed off that Jeff had his side piece, like a married guy, with a Goomah, I became incensed, tossing my thinking cap down the drain. All I could feel was betrayed.
I then repeated my move at ABC, telling Jeff that yes, I was managing Rush and that due to his own transgressions, as well as Sol’s, he could stick American Talent International up his ass and I stormed out.
Unfortunately, this repeat of “stick it up your ass” was not as beneficial as the one with ABC. In this latter scenario, it did cause me harm.
I was not thinking clearly. I was reacting.
The Hard Lesson Behind This Story
Hindsight, along with an increased acumen in business now, would dictate that I bring in a forensic accountant to scour the books as if using steel wool on a dirty pot, and have my attorney start a legal suit. I did not, though.
When I say it harmed me, I harmed myself by losing a major power base, which resulted in my not being as successful as I was at American Talent International with my latter music ventures.
While still successful in management, it was never as successful as ATI. I was unprepared, overreacted, and unable to take any action as a manager except with Savoy Brown and a few other minor artists.
Eventually, as the music business became a major challenge to succeed in, I left it in 1990.
Like many stories in my celebrity memoir book, “Once A King, Now A Prince,” this one is both painful and ultimately memoir inspiring, because the lessons only became clear many years later. Looking back now, the entire experience remains one of the most memoir inspiring lessons of my career.
The King, before he became the Prince
