Um and Er
Why don't A&R men look out of the window in the morning? It gives them something to do in the afternoon.' Boo Hewerdine on that shadowy music industry figure, the A&R man...
In the past month a strange and slightly worrying thing has happened to me. I have become an A&R man. Let me explain A man called Marcus Russell managed the band with which I used to sing. At the time his management company, Ignition, was just he and a small desk in someone else's stairwell. Through his efforts we almost achieved greatness but unfortunately it all fizzled out in a blaze of apathy. Sadly, there came the day when he and I parted. That was ten years ago and I have always regretted this. In the meantime I have made a few records, written a couple of moderately successful songs and just about kept my head above water. Marcus, on the other hand, has been managing Oasis.
Consequently, the stairwell is a thing of the past. We hadn't spoken for ages when I rang him last year. I was trying to get him interested in managing a young woman whose record I'd been producing. He wasn't keen but I guess my name must have stayed in his mind. About four months ago he called and asked me if I'd listen to a tape of an American band called El Nino. I later flew to the US to executive produce their album. When I returned I found myself getting more involved in other bands signed to what was Marcus's own label, Ignition records. A couple of weeks later he asked me how I'd feel about 'doing some A&R'.
A blind rabbit and a blind snake bump into each other in the desert. 'Oh, sorry' says the rabbit, 'I couldn't see where I was going, I'm blind you see'. 'So am I' replies the snake. 'What are you?' enquires Thumper. 'I don't know, I've never seen myself' replies Hissing Sid. The rabbit has a think and says, 'I've no idea what I am either, perhaps we should feel each other and see if we can work it out'. 'OK,' says the snake, 'here goes.' After a while the snake reveals his findings. 'You're all soft and furry, you've got a fluffy tail and big soft ears'. I must be a rabbit!' says the rabbit, cheerfully. Now it was the snake's turn. 'Well?' he asks after a while. 'I don't think you're going to like this' says the rabbit, 'you're all slimy and you've got no ears.' 'Oh no!' exclaims the snake, 'I must be an A&R man!'
What is A&R? Well it stands for 'Artiste and Repertoire.' So now you know. What it actually entails is finding producers, picking songs, choosing mixes and being involved in the mechanics of making a record. Of course, A&R men (they are rarely women, the music industry is very old fashioned) are also meant to wave a chequebook at impressionable young bands, enticing them into a life of showbiz depravity. I haven't been able to do that yet. In my experience as an artiste (or 'turn'), A&R tends to involve the following:
1. SPEAKING IN MIXED METAPHORS.
I have heard ALL of the following: 'I'd give my right arm to get my hands on his publishing'. 'I've been running around all day like a blue-arsed tit'
(doesn't bear thinking about). And my all time fave, 'Everyone wants a slice of the cherry'. Um, do they?
2. INTERFERING
I have been in rooms with various members of the A&R fraternity whilst they have discussed my hair, weight, goatee, glasses (on or off?) and,
occasionally, my music.
3. CLICHÉS
At one time or another, I have heard all of the following. 'The demos were better.' i.e. the wonky sketches made on a knackered Dictaphone are
somehow lovelier than the finished record. 'It'll make a great album track.' This means there is no chorus. 'They're much better live'. Can be
interpreted as meaning that what sounded good at a gig, very loud with a few lagers down your neck is somehow disappointing in the harsh light
of tape. A&R men could hold conversations in stock phrases.
4. RUDENESS
The art of talking to someone whilst checking out who else is in the room. The ability to respond to the other half of a telephone conversation
without paying any attention to what is being said. Etc...
All of these talents and many others must be mastered. The extended lunch, the guest list, the appearance of sincerity and, of course, the barefaced lie. Within weeks I should have developed all the unpleasant traits I have observed over the years. Oh good. Actually, this gig may be pretty good fun, who knows, I might discover the next Oasis (although knowing my luck it will be the next Shed 7). I shall just have to keep my ear to the grindstone... ah, my first mixed metaphor!
Boo Hewerdine.
