Maureen

Vote "Up" for Tom Morello on Current TV! Now!

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 18:44:10 -0700

Peeps -

Tom Morello's story on Fuzz's The Fix is #2 on the Current TV home page. Please cast your vote "up" and get Tom to #1 so the story makes it to the Current TV News Pod Broadcast for all to see.

Vote Here!

Quit reading this! Go vote! I mean it! He's my high school buddy - LBV Wildcats are thick as thieves. Go Orange & Black!

Perspective on What's Really Important

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 10:37:11 -0700

After all the wild weather yesterday, Indiana has been hit pretty hard. This is possibly my favorite quote in a long time:

"At this point, mercifully, we believe all Hoosiers are secure," Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels said at a news conference."

Well, THAT'S a relief...

I am not making this up

Fri, 25 Jan 2008 21:18:42 -0800

I was watching American Hardcore on cable - stumbled on it - have wanted to see it but haven't had time. My 4 year old wakes up and walks into my room and leans on the bed and watches a minute of Ian Mackaye and Minor Threat. She says, "They're a better band than you," in a very matter of fact way. She then asks if I can get her some milk and retreats to her room.

Getting her milk as instructed, I am simultaneously bemused, proud of her, yet insulted.

Another day in the life. I haven't seen Ian since Babes & Fugazi were touring Japan. There is a Japanese restaurant story, but I don't feel like regaling it with you now. I still have to put the 4 year old to bed. Let me just preface it with the fact that I do not like fish or seafood of any kind.

Good night.

Music's Invisible Hand

Sat, 10 Nov 2007 12:44:31 -0800

"Music is everything one listens to with the intention of listening to music."
-Luciano Berio

My exposure to music has been a defining part of my life. At first, it was my Dad's Barbra Streisand, Carpenters and Frank Sinatra LP's echoing through the halls at night. Later, louder music bled through the bedroom walls of my siblings (Led Zeppelin on one side, Joni Mitchell on the other). Then there was my prized AM/FM clock radio where I listened to Chicago's WLS (AM pop), WLUP (hard rock and Cheap Trick 20 times a day thank God) and WXRT (obscure alternative) as my tastes grew with my height.

A defining factor early on, I think, is that my best friend in grade school, Stephanie Brown, had a brother who designed album art for various Warner Bros. Records artists, including The Stranglers and The Tubes. My first-ever concert was seeing--and meeting--The Stranglers when they came to Chicago. I think I was 12. Her brother set it up and we went with her Mom backstage. Stranglers frontman Hugh Cornwell was very nice to us and it was not until years later when I really got into their music that I realized how lucky I was and how the exposure to what others might think was dissonance shaped my openness to taste and image. If not for that early exposure to different kinds of music besides AM radio, I would not have, years later, given The Butthole Surfers a second listen after the shock of first hearing their music and the sonic worm hole it opened up.

I owe a lot to that grade school friend. Without her punk rock and new wave enlightenment, I would have thought the Journey songs being played incessantly on the radio must be the good music. My friend used to wear Patti Smith t-shirts in gym class. I wonder if I ever would have joined Babes in Toyland if not for her. Later in high school, we saw Black Flag together. Who knew that many years later, Henry Rollins and I would share the same manager?

Still, with all this punk rock and new wave, the earlier influences still stuck with me. I was a Joni Mitchell fanatic and even tried out for our 8th grade talent show singing "My Analyst Told Me" from her album "Court and Spark". It was lyrical material far out of the realm of what most kids in my Catholic school were doing, and alas, I didn't make the cut. I even had a special dance to it. (In the end, my choice of song was an intuitive foreboding of what lay ahead for me in my 20's.)

Through my Joni Mitchell-loving sister I was introduced to the interweaving of Carole King, Neil Young, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, The Eagles, and the best of all - Jesus Christ Superstar. What a great rock album that was--and everyone knows the Judas songs are the best. (Many years later, noise rock band Cows covered 39 Lashes--I still listen to that track often.) The Hair movie soundtrack came out somewhere in there and to this day I know every song by heart.

So a middle class girl emerged from the confines of midwestern Libertyville, Illinois rooted deeply in singer/songwriter 70's Americana, seminal punk rock, hard rock and a dose of heavy metal--forever hard-wired to be receptive to their particular strains and nuances. By the time I hit University of Minnesota, that odd mix sent me to the indie record store bins forging my own peculiar tastes: Bauhaus, Leonard Cohen, Funkadelic, Psychedelic Furs, Jennifer Warnes (!), Killdozer, Scratch Acid.

In Minneapolis, I found myself living in the heyday of an indie-rock scene with The Replacements, Husker Du, Soul Asylum, Babes in Toyland (before I joined), and The Jayhawks swirling around me and all of us drinking beers at the CC Club on Monday Pitcher Nights. Who knew we would all end up on major labels?

Through the tastes of a boyfriend in the afore-mentioned band Cows, I delved deeper into the underground post-punk noise scene. My friend (and Babes in Toyland drummer) Lori Barbero hosted every band who came through Minneapolis. After every show of whatever great underground band toured through Minneapolis, it was off to Lori's house for an after-party. I MET the Butthole Surfers. I MET Scratch Acid. Through an engineer friend of mine I met Steve Albini after a rare Rapeman show--someone whose music I had devoured since his first Big Black EP.

During the end of my Minneapolis years, I started playing bass quite by accident. A real accident - my brother got his hand caught in a pasta machine and gave me his bass. I lived on one side of a walking bridge over Interstate 35W--on the other end of the bridge was Babes in Toyland singer/guitarist Kat Bjelland. I asked Kat to walk over and help me because though I had started playing the bass I had no idea how to tune it. She taught me how to tune it and what the names of the strings were and to this day that is all I know. If you told me to play an A, I'd have no idea where on the fretboard that was. I'd just have to play the open string for you. Kat taught me:
E (Elizabeth)
A (Anderson)
D (Does)
G (Good)
for a six-string you add:

B (Bass)
E (Electric)
Elizabeth Anderson Does Good Bass Electric. Thanks Kat.

At that time I lived in a warehouse-type building where noise was not an issue and I invited people who actually knew how to play to come over and "jam"--with me playing by ear--so I could learn. To this day I cannot stand the term "jam" but have never been able to conjure an appropriate one-word alternative.

Soon I formed a band, M&M Stigmata, with a Minneapolis local genius with severe psychiatric problems--Peter John. His plan was this: book a show first and THEN start writing & practicing. Sounded good to me--deadlines make for real motivation. We got booked in an opening slot at the Uptown Bar on a weekend. Kat came. Peter John was too drunk to play his guitar, which he informed me midway into our first song. So he just sang--our show was bass, drums and vocals. Like a deer in the headlights, I forged on. Kat told me that she started seeing me differently then because I was this "normal" girl in the scene and what the fuck kind of person goes up and does that, especially with Peter John? God rest his soul, by the way.

Somewhere in there, I began dating David Sims from The Jesus Lizard and soon I was off to Chicago, living in an apartment David shared with his entire band. I still remember how odd it was that the minute we got to Chicago, it was Steve Albini's house that I parked my U-Haul in front of (because The Jesus Lizard's neighborhood was not a good place to leave a U-Haul overnight) and it was Corey Rusk, owner of Touch and Go Records who gave me warehouse space to store all my belongings. Everybody was so welcoming and made me feel instantly part of it all.

It was weird at first. Hell, I used to live in a crappy little apartment in LA for a year with two of my few possessions being a tape recorder and a cassette of Albini's band Big Black's first EP that I played over and over. And storing my piano and crap at Touch and Go? I had bought most of my records from Touch and Go for years. KILLDOZER, my favorite band, was on their label for chrissakes! Corey, the owner, being the total sweetheart he is, would pay band members between tours to come in and shrink-wrap stuff or fold promo posters to mail out. Me having just moved there and not found a job yet, he invited me to join in. I remember working alongside David & Mac from The Jesus Lizard and Michael Gerald of Killdozer and for just a moment thought how fucking bizarre that was, the four of us on the floor folding stacks of Urge Overkill posters. (I remember playing with Killdozer in Europe years later and just thinking, "how did I get here?")

Chicago at that time was a bigger version of what Minneapolis had become a few years back. Within a year I started playing bass again with Albini's then-girlfriend and some other Chicago scenesters I met through The Jesus Lizard. We were called Cherry Rodriguez. It was an all-female band with a male frontman whose vocal hero was John Brannon from the Laughing Hyenas, i.e. primal screaming. I played bass. Albini was at our first show. His girlfriend told me he said something complimentary about my bass playing, which gave me the false impression that I could play bass--but that illusion ended up serving me well. I think the bar held about 20 people. So, it was packed, but you know. Humble beginnings.

Not much later, I got a call from my old friend, Lori Barbero. Babes had been touring hard for years (and staying with me in Chicago when they came through) and had just signed to Warner Bros.--the same label that had employed my grade school friend's brother. Michelle Leon, the original bassist, wanted to quit the band. Her boyfriend, Joe Cole, Henry Rollins best friend and tour manager, had been walking home from the store with Henry and was shot dead. Michelle couldn't handle the tour, the upcoming major label debut recording--she wanted out. Did I want to join?

"Hell, yes!" was NOT my first reaction. First of all, it was horrible circumstances by which this opportunity came my way. There were other considerations. I didn't want to move back to junkie-infested Minneapolis - I had already lost some friends to that. I had a pretty good job at Columbia College's English Department and was going to school there for free, and I was already in a band. At that time, Babes were doing OK, but they toured HARD, and it wasn't something you could make a living at. Or so I thought.

I decided I could always go back to school if it didn't work out. They invited me up to give it a try. Duane Denison, guitarist of The Jesus Lizard, sat with me for hours and taught me all the bass lines and played Kat's parts. When I went in to the Babes practice space, I nailed it. They asked me to join immediately. It didn't hurt that we were all good friends already. Oddly, I missed the first audition because while I was driving to the practice space, I got pulled over. My passenger door handle was hanging funny and Minneapolis Police are very particular. They ran my license and I was promptly arrested for unpaid parking tickets from three years prior. Kat and Lori had no idea where I was. Later, they could not believe that I missed it because "normal" Maureen was in jail. I was punk rock after all. That clinched it. I didn't just join, I belonged.

4 1/2 years later - great, hard, wonderful, horrible, delightful, life-changing years, I quit the band. I got to play Lollapalooza '93 with my Libertyville high school friends Tom Morello in RATM and Adam Jones of Tool. Every night of Lollapalooza we were introduced by Timothy Leary, who was an avid fan. I got to record a Carpenters cover--a fitting tribute to my Dad's influence. I got to play at Reading Festival--twice--to a crowd of people who reached the horizon. I am so grateful for that entire experience. There were nights I was sharing the stage with the people I grew up listening to: Sonic Youth, Killdozer, NEIL YOUNG!, the list goes on. But I couldn't tour anymore. Nine months out of the year for 4 1/2 years--I was spent. I wanted to be a writer, so I quit. Everyone thought I was an idiot.

Within a few months I started writing for a local city paper. Then a friend at Touch and Go called me and said Musician Magazine was looking for a writer who was also a musician (mandatory for their writers) to do an interview with The Jesus Lizard while they recorded their new album with Steve Albini. Did they know anyone in Chicago who could do it? Hmmm... Wonder who could do that?

So of course I got a great interview, even though by this time David Sims and I were long since broken up. Soon Albini went on to another project, recording Jimmy Page & Robert Plant's "Walking into Clarksdale". My Musician Magazine editor thought since I knew Steve Albini, maybe I could get an interview with Page & Plant. Steve, always a generous friend, set me up with some contacts and I got the interview. With that, they hired me as Associate Editor. I, who had left college to join a rock band, was now an editor at a magazine. The catch? I had to move to Nashville, TN.

Luckily, I was at the end of some self-inflicted nightmarish personal relationship(s) drama and wanted to get the hell out of Chicago. So I went, blindly, to Music City, USA.

Oh. My. God. Nashville is another world. I loved my job and got to fly to England and interview Tori Amos; I learned a ton about the world of music journalism and made great contacts--but you just can't describe that town in words, you have to taste it from the alley all the way up to the one-hit wonder millionaire homes.

Within a year though, I hit a personal bottom and left the magazine. It didn't help that the publisher wanted to put a picture of a new microphone on the next cover instead of a picture of that month's artist featured in the "Musician Interview" as they had done for 20 some years. Within less than a year after I left, that great magazine was gone--killed by someone who didn't understand that music was a language and a magazine like ours let the PhD's & the beginners sit at the same table--and both learn from each other. And that's why the readers and advertisers loved it. But I digress...

I started bartending at a friend's club on Nashville's Lower Broadway. One day, this older guy who was playing in the band--daytime on a Saturday afternoon--came up to the bar on his break. He made a hilarious comment I no longer remember. Not to dis the south, but I was hungry for wit and intelligence. We talked a little, our backgrounds came up (he was a former music publishing executive and studio owner) and we both asked each other what the hell we were doing in The Bluegrass Inn on a Saturday afternoon, broke. This guy, Greg Humphrey and I, we started a business, Pollyanna, proudly named after my famously optimistic outlook in the face of utter hopelessness. I learned so damn much from Humphrey--and continue to--and I ended up managing artists, booking and promoting shows (even got voted best indie promoter--I tied with Chris Moon now of Nettwerk), and then produced a video of Hank Williams III that somehow got on CMT. And guess who Hank III's guitar player was? Former roommate and former Jesus Lizard guitarist Duane Denison--the one who taught me those Babes bass lines. It was great to repay the favor and get him that gig and it was great to have a fellow Chicagoan in Nashville. Soon, his now-wife followed and I had more of my posse in Nashville.

Eventually, however, I longed for northern impatience. I moved to New York to pursue writing-ish comedy filmy aspirations. Fast forward through the struggling, ugly New York period (there were some highlights, writing for Rolling Stone & AOL, being a producer at VH1, working at Miramax, but I was a total mess). After the stunning experience of being in Lower Manhattan for 9/11, I went back to Nashville and started working for a music publishing company Greg Humphrey had started. Again, I learned a lot about licensing and this and that, but it wasn't where I belonged. I went back to Chicago to recharge. It took a while.

At about the perfect time, I got a call from my brother who had a friend he worked with at Google who was starting a music company called, uh, Fuzz. His friend wanted to ask me some questions and maybe get some introductions. Soon, I started working for them, and here it is a year and a half later, and I am still here at Fuzz and loving the entire experience (not just saying that because my boss might read it). It is tumultuous and exhilarating because I care about it the way that I cared about my band. It is similar in so many ways, except I don't have to tour, no one takes pictures of me and I don't carry sharpies and duct tape in my purse.

My musical formative peculiarities show on the job as well. Take Greg Garing--an infamous anti-Nashville establishment anti-hero. I strongly encouraged him to get his music up on the Fuzz site. I wanted everyone in the world to hear "Dream Too Real To Hold". His voice will kill you. That is the entrenched singer/songwriter root still in me that I love. I had heard legends about Garing in Nashville, but met and became friends with him and his wife in New York where he had ignited a similar Americana scene there with his Alphabet City Opry. His efforts landed him on the cover of the New York Times Arts section and Billboard. I couldn't help but make some introductions for his next recording project and he's now played with drummer Mac McNeilly from the Jesus Lizard and Pinkus from the Butthole Surfers. Americana + Psycho-punk + Noise-rock = ????????? Can't wait to hear a new record.

Then there's USSA to balance things out and bring my love of masterfully-crafted heavy noise rock into the mix. Luckily, Fuzz the label became interested in Duane Denison's new band, USSA, which he started with Paul Barker from Ministry. Duane had kind of started "consulting" for Fuzz and it just went from there. With two successful bands in his resume and a young toddler, this guy still tours like he's just started playing in bands. I just saw USSA live three times last month. It was musical food I needed so, so badly. It is not the Jesus Lizard (or Tomahawk or Ministry) and doesn't try to be, it's USSA: the most original, searing, dynamic, accomplished and genuine live show I have seen in years--the kind where you wish you could instantly beam in your friends so they don't miss it. Of course USSA publicity talks about Duane and Paul because of their past bands, but their singer, Gary Call, is a vigorously talented secret weapon and Guiness-Book-of-World-Records-holder-for-fastest-drummer Johnny Rabb stands out in his precision and soulful intensity. I am not selling you, I am fucking telling you. They tour the US starting next week so check their tour dates on Fuzz and fucking go. That Fuzz played a part in this record (The Spoils) coming into the world has been truly a peak for me.

You can see why I call myself the Forrest Gump of Indie Rock the way all these people and events connect and intertwine. I don't know where things will go from here, how these or any artists will fare in this changing music business. I don't know what Fuzz will evolve into--it's already come SO far, it's getting more amazing every day and we all have so many ideas we can't wait to make a reality. If only our head engineer Phatduckk could be cloned fifteen times but the clones didn't smoke.

I am indebted to so many people along this crazy path with its twists, turns and trenches. Even the tragedies turned out to be, at worst, opportunities and, at best, near miracles. I am glad just to be blogging on a website that I was a small part of making real.

Now, the internet is one big open record bin and people have unlimited access to every type of music from artists at any level or down any niche worm hole. My reality is that music plays a bigger part in my daily life than I am generally aware of. We search for music we like and then people and ideas come with that music--some become lifelong friends. We come into contact with people we would otherwise not know through music--witness the critical mass in social networking activity around music.

Music is the core that runs through my entire experience--though I never planned on being a musician or working in the music industry. If there was a nice word for infection, I'd say it infected me. It's apt that the word music is derived from the Greek word muse--a source of inspiration. Music consistently and historically transcends its role as a commodity--it is a force that impacts and changes lives. I guess I wanted to remind myself of that today. So there you go.

Pt. 5 & 6: How Do I Get A Manager Interested in Me / Do I Really Need a Manager?

Sat, 08 Sep 2007 13:39:37 -0700

HOW DO I GET A MANAGER INTERESTED IN ME?

If you have no record deal or solid interest (a negligible term in the flaky netherworld of A&R), and depending on how far you are in your career, you may not be able to attract a higher-level manager unless you really blow him or her away. Even so, there's a lot you can -- and should -- do to make your band appealing to a good manager, regardless of your label status.

"I tend to not pick up really small artists that haven't accomplished a certain number of goals by themselves," says Janet Billig. "It's really important that an artist go through the process of recording an album, generating press, building a buzz, and booking and promoting shows. I don't have a problem picking up an artist with no deal; I have a problem picking up and working with an artist without experience."

Steve Hutton's approach adds some gut instinct to the mix. "I get in trouble and have problems if I have to convince myself to manage a band and don't feel it immediately. I look for a good rock band with great songs, with relatively attractive people who are of a certain age, have a similar vibe, and look like a part of the same team. You don't want a bass player that looks like he's in Korn and a guitar player that looks like he's in Backstreet Boys -- that won't work. And this cliché will always be true -- it's all about the songs."

'If you can't get your brother-in-law's indie label to get back to you about the three demos CDs you sent them, you just might need someone with contacts.' -- P. W. Long

DO I REALLY NEED A MANAGER?
by P.W. Long circa 2000

Your band is finally getting some label interest. You're wondering if it's time to get help navigating those perilous waters. Most certainly, if you do end up on a major label you'll need someone to protect your integrity from the A&R person who wants your techno-metal-hop outfit to fill a support slot for Ani DiFranco's tour and a radio department clamoring for you to do a Hooter's grand opening. Maybe, on the other hand, you can't even get your brother-in-law's indie label to get back to you about the three demos CDs you sent them. If so, your career just might need a kick-start--someone with contacts.

You Need A Manager If …

1. You have a major label deal. If you somehow swung your record deal without a manager, the label will either recommend or demand that you get one -- now.

2. You have more success with indie-label releases, gig earnings, and merchandise proceeds than you can keep track of efficiently.

3. Your band's income and popularity are stagnating, and you need to get your music into the hands of people who can generate income for your band (record labels, music publishers, film music supervisors, etc.).

Manager Criteria

1. Make sure your manager will be readily accessible and have the necessary time to devote to your project. If your selection pool is limited to friends and acquaintances, realize that your friendship will likely become strained if not entirely jeopardized.

2. Find someone whose reputation and methods will not compromise your band's image. A good manager is aggressive and firm, but also careful not to embitter a lot of people.

3. Make sure he/she is an ardent fan of your music. Your manager's enthusiasm and confidence about your future should be infectious.

What to Know Going In

1. The band and manager should agree on what to expect from each other. Define "manager." Does it include booking gigs, mailing posters, sending press materials, etc.?

2. Sign an agreement that's fair to everyone. This should prevent misunderstandings when -- after a term of failed efforts -- the manager says, "You owe me $5,000.00." You say, "Not according to this contract we don't."

3. Pay the manager the agreed percentage for his or her efforts whenever you can. This keeps everyone interested in staying actively involved.

4. Demand performance from your management. At the same time you must show the same commitment you expect from them: Do what you say you're going to do.

In all cases, use common sense. Trust the instincts of the band-member with the best judgment of character. If you don't have a solid list of management candidates, ask friends in other successful bands for guidance. If those efforts turn up nothing, Pollstar's quarterly "Agencies" issue offers an exhaustive list of management and booking agencies. Good luck.

The End

Pt. 4: You Want Me to Pay You What?

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 00:04:37 -0700

Pt. 4 of "Great Managers and How to Find Them"

"You want me to pay you what?!"

Commission: Anywhere from 5% to 20%, with the norm being 15%.

This is how the manager is able to afford to work for you and still pay the phone bill and eat out once in a while. In the early days, it can be tough: The client doesn't have income, which is why he or she wants a manager. The manager essentially works for free until he or she can create financial opportunity and exposure.

At this stage, it's important for all parties to be realistic. In the beginning of his career, manager Chris Moon [Josh Rouse] still worked a second job -- and for as long as it took, so did his client. "I've talked to several people who made big money on big deals," he says. "They still have to work on the side because of the initial investment of getting to that point. Unless the artist gets a signing bonus you can commission, all the money from a record deal goes toward making a record. You can only commission what is actually income, not expenses. That's why it's good to get a publishing deal and get some money up front for you and your client. Either way, you have to have someone administer your publishing or you're never going to take all your money in -- that's a given. So you either sell your publishing or you hold onto it and get an administration deal. In the leverage for that money, you give up ownership for 'x' amount of years."

How many years? "That depends," Moon says. "Do you want to wait to earn the money, or do you want somebody to pay up front? Other than that, income comes only from merchandise and live performance -- and that's where your management efforts should be focused after the deals are done."

As Billions points out, "For every one of those deals, there's 30 other tasks that have absolutely no income related directly to them. For me, the reward is in the relationship itself. Of course there's satisfaction in having something become a success from a fiscal standpoint, but there's a lot of little victories, and lots of little to medium frustrations. You miss out on the fun of managing if you don't see the process as worth it."

Sometimes artists forget how they got to be successful. To them, their first manager transforms into something like an old guitar they want to trade for a shiny new red one. In both sides of this scenario, the artist has forgotten how their old association helped them get to where they are, and that history -- especially the trust and communication built into a manager/client relationship -- is priceless.

This is not to say that you should never change management or fire your manager. If you feel your needs are not being met, or that your interests or money are no longer protected, or if you plain don't like each other anymore, you should part ways. But associating humble beginnings with the "small time" can put you in the hands of someone who wasn't there when you were broke, unknown, and losing faith. Even if things are on the upswing with your next manager, the minute things look shaky, you could find yourself deserted by someone whose allegiance to you began after all the toughest work was done.

'I don't have a problem picking up an artist with no deal; I have a problem picking up an artist without experience.' -- Janet Billig

Coming soon....Pt. 5: How do I get a Manager Interested in Me?

Pt. 3: What Exactly Do Managers Do?

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 23:41:23 -0700

Great Managers and How To Find Them - A blog in 6 parts

"A lot of work goes into the public hearing the music," states Danny Goldberg. "It's time-sensitive, and it requires finesse and intelligence to avoid disasters. Whether it's something going wrong in a club, the relationship with the media, the record company, the attorney, or the booking agents, I don't know if artists are always aware of how much work it is. It's the kind of profession where anything good that happens is credited to the artist and anything that goes wrong is the fault of the manager.

"It's hard sometimes to measure a manager's real contribution, impact, and value in a tangible way," Goldberg admits. "Therefore, you're hoping that there's an intuitive grasp of it. There's no chance for an It's a Wonderful Life run-through of what your career would be like without the manager. That's the most frustrating thing for both parties. The artist always wonders, 'Am I getting my money's worth?' The manager wonders, 'Do they appreciate what I'm doing or not?' I believe good managers are worth a great deal to an artist. And bad managers are worth zero. So the profession is extremely valuable -- when done correctly."

Good managers are networkers; they understand that the business is all about relationships. Though it may be your song in the movie, the path it followed to get there may be this convoluted: Your manager is backstage at the Foo Fighters show, which he got into because he used to book bands at the club part-time. He runs into his ex-girlfriend's brother, who works for a film company. They talk about a film that's under production there, and it turns out they're looking for a song with a train theme for the soundtrack. The manager remembers that your band has a train song on their demo. Phone numbers are exchanged.

The point, of course, is that it's not always easy to trace or gauge the manager's positive effect. As Billig points out, "There are little accomplishments that seem insignificant to the artist or outside world but are gigantic for the artist's career. It's hard for anyone, even an artist, to see that opportunity the manager gained for him or her."

"I think there's a quote from Andy Gould [manager of Rob Zombie and Monster Magnet] that says, 'A manager's job is to be the thing that gets between the bullet and the artist's foot,'" laughs Hutton. "I think that's true, combined with contributing to the artistic process. That doesn't necessarily mean creating the music, but representing the music in the proper spirit and in a creative way."

Managers essentially work for free until they can create financial opportunity and exposure.

Pt. 4: You Want Me to Pay You What? (How Managers Get Paid)

Pt. 2: Great Managers and How to Find Them: Is experience necessary?

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 21:16:46 -0700

Part 2 in a series

Is experience necessary in a good manager?

Let's say you're thinking about asking someone who has a track record with other artists to manage you. The fact that this person has been in the music business gives you grounds for doing some research. Danny Goldberg, currently of Gold Mountain Entertainment, founded Gold Mountain Management and counted Nirvana, the Beastie Boys, Bonnie Raitt, and Rickie Lee Jones among his clients. "If someone's dishonest with other people," he warns, "they're going to be that way with you. Bands should also avoid managers who are intimidated by them. A manager needs to love and appreciate the music of an artist and like them, but they also need to be able to tell them the truth, which sometimes includes bad news or advice they don't want to hear."

Sometimes these qualities can compensate for a lack of experience. "Depending on how far along the artist is in their development, the manager should have some skills and expertise in the business," Goldberg continues. "If they don't have direct expertise, they should have a temperament that makes them open-minded and able to learn."

Steve Hutton (former Kid Rock manager) agrees. "People should not look down on managers who haven't had success yet. Everyone has to start somewhere, and frankly, a lot of times a new manager may be better than an experienced one, because you're probably going to be their only act and their most important work. The experienced manager has other acts and more things on their plate."

Beyond honesty and respect for the artist, what qualities are important for the novice -- and veteran -- manager? "Patience and perseverance are the two most essential qualities," says Hutton. "You cannot be tenacious enough. At the same time, you have to be diplomatic, creative, and intelligent."

That's just the beginning, according to Boche Billions, a.k.a. David Viecelli, of Billions Corporation in Chicago, a booking & management firm whose roster includes Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Southern Culture on the Skids, Wire, Calexico, and formerly road dogs and indie success story The Jesus Lizard. "Besides the obvious things, it is about finding someone who understands who the band is, what they want to get out of being a band, and what the realistic expectations for that band are in the marketplace."

'Good managers are worth a great deal to an artist. And bad managers are worth zero." -- Danny Goldberg

Pt. 3: What Exactly Do Managers Do? Coming soon...

Pt. 1: Great Managers and How to Find Them: Intro

Mon, 20 Aug 2007 10:54:18 -0700

Great Managers and How to Find Them: Part One

(originally appeared in Harmony Central in 2000)

In 1991 I was living in a drafty warehouse on Chicago's South Side, practicing with my band in the basement and playing local clubs -- until I got a call that would change my life.

An old friend phoned with news that her bassist had quit the band and asked if I'd like to join. That band, Babes in Toyland, had just signed to Reprise and was about to record their major label debut. I joined. In two weeks I was on tour, with a recording session scheduled immediately after we got off the road.

In true punk rock fashion, we split all of the work. But things soon became hectic, and it became an overwhelming responsibility to keep on top of our business -- touring, recording, upgrading equipment, something about ASCAP, and needing someone to tell us that A&R didn't stand for Artists & Restaurants. We wanted an ally, someone like us who understood what we were doing, who knew the business and could help us protect our interests and image.

It was time to get a manager.

In all my previous bands, I'd never thought of having a manager or even known what music business people really did. Entrenched in the DIY ethic of Chicago's indie scene, when I pictured a manager, I saw a cheap suit, a cigar, and a snake holding someone else's money.

Fast-forward a few years, and today I'm a music business executive. I dress pretty cheaply sometimes, and I do smoke cigarettes -- but I know now that most managers out there are not thief-like Svengalis. By and large they're hard-working people from all walks of life, with a passion for music and a respect for artists. How do you find one of these managers -- someone who has the drive, if not the experience, to nurture your career?

Glad you asked.

Where do I find a manager and what does it look like?

'Be clear early on about where you could use some help. Look at the people around you -- can any of them offer you that help?'

Calling up a big coastal management firm is not the best first step in finding representation -- especially if you're a "baby band" (which is an unappealing term used by the industry to describe a band that's just starting out or shopping for a deal). The best thing to do is look at the people closest to the band -- people who appreciate what you're doing and can offer constructive support. It may be the friend who's always helping you put up flyers and load out equipment at the end of the night. Or maybe it's the woman who books the club you call home and awards you the primo slots. Those situations can grow naturally and successfully into management/client relationships. Witness Maggie McPherson, formerly booking agent for the Uptown Bar in Minneapolis, now manager of then-local bar band and current Columbia artists the Jayhawks.

Many managers, like me, become involved with no intention of full-time management. Instead, they see a talent, become passionate about its potential, and feel they can contribute something to that artist's drive for success. Steve Hutton of Upper Cut Management was a friend of Kid Rock's back in Detroit and, until recently, his manager. "There was a local band that I really liked," Hutton recalls. "I started working with them. I used that as an excuse to network and teach myself the business."

Like Hutton, Janet Billig at Immortal Entertainment has an eye for indie talent and has learned about how to develop it on the job. One of her first clients in the early '90s was Courtney Love and her band Hole; she now works with Lisa Loeb, Cibo Matto, and Guided by Voices, and partners in a film production company with Love. "At different stages of an artist's career, you need a manager to do different things," Billig says. "Sometimes newer artists think, 'I need someone to help me design flyers.' Well, some managers might be really good for making flyers, but that may not be the best use of their time or abilities. Think of how they can facilitate your goals instead of thinking of them as your personal assistant."

In other words, be clear early on about where you could use some help. Look at the people around you -- can any of them offer you that help? What could you give them in return?

'A manager needs to love and appreciate the music of an artist, but they also need to be able to tell them the truth.' -- Danny Goldberg

Next week: Is experience necessary in a good manager?

Describe Fuzz in One Sentence - No semi-colons allowed

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 20:50:29 -0700

I double dog dare you.

Email Bankruptcy

Fri, 10 Aug 2007 22:41:40 -0700

I did not coin this term--I read it in a magazine about a year ago. I am considering declaring email bankruptcy--deleting everything in my email inboxes and starting fresh.

I currently have 5,703 messages in my work inbox, 1,484 unread. I have 621 messages in my Fuzz private messages, 201 unread. 1,942 in my hotmail account (which I've had since 2003) with 1,392 unread. I think I should probably get back to the Little Dog Records email from 2003, if they're still in existence.

How do you people do it? I once spent most of a Saturday afternoon deleting obsolete messages. I do it sometimes during commercials when I'm watching TV, when I'm on a conference call that's going on too long, or when I just want to see those numbers go down.

Then there's answering them. Then there's actually using the information in them or doing the work needed, or the forwarding or the filing or the not forgetting.

When I get the inclination to just mark them all and press delete and start over--I just know there's stuff there that I'll "need". Like those crazy old people who never throw away magazines and newspapers and they collect cats and stuff. But I'd probably get fired. Or lose some opportunities, or lose touch with people, or negatively change the trajectory of my life forever.

How did so much of my time start to become such a constant influx and outflux (is that a word?) of verbage?

OK, I won't do it. But I wonder what my inbox will look like when I'm 50.

Guten Nacht.

PunkPorpoise Commits MySpace Suicide

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 20:56:32 -0700

I got a message from Fuzz user PunkPorpoise (http://www.fuzz.com/fan/PunkPorpoise) who informed me that she had committed "MySpace Suicide" because it was causing her more stress than anything else.

I told her I hoped she wouldn't have to ever commit Fuzz suicide. What makes a site fun to be at? What makes it stressful? Of course I think about this stuff a lot. Maybe too much.

For myself it's interacting with people I know and am getting to know who have common interests. It's weird--like the 6 degrees of separation thing. There is so often a commonality. So often it turns out that even with a complete stranger, we have either a common friend, a common experience, or a common passion.

It's also letting other people know about cool people like PunkPorpoise. She's been on Fuzz since February, but we've mainly been connecting on MySpace, where she found me, having been a Babes fan. So go say hi, because I think she's cool. But don't make her commit suicide.

Tomorrow's Blog: Maureen declares email bankruptcy

It's midnight so I'm 41

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 22:28:22 -0700

Dang. I guess technically I was born at 6:26pm Eastern time, so I can be 40 for a few more hours. As if 40 is so great. It's just that 41 moves you toward, uh, 50. That's fucking old. Sorry to anyone reading this that's 50 or more.

Typical day today--got divorced this morning, went to work, made spaghetti for dinner, played Dora bingo and relapsed on cigarettes. Went 23 days without smoking. I'll hop back on it tomorrow with the patch and the gum. Now I know I can do it. Plus it's totally gross to smoke now. I didn't realize how stinky it was. But I have to figure out some way to replace those staring out the window, staring at the sky moments that were reserved for cigarettes.

So I haven't been on the site much lately, which is very odd for me. Life has been an overflowing inbox of late. I have wanted to claim email bankruptcy--delete all my messages and start over again--but you know, there's those little things you might need or that might be good for work (Fuzz) or whatever.

It was exactly a year ago I first went out to San Francisco and met everyone at Fuzz for the first time. I love my job, I love my new boss, I love what we're doing. I don't feel like I punch in and give someone 8 hours and then punch out and return to my life. It is whole--work and life integrated into who I am. That is what I always wanted.

Despite my declining years, I have to look back and see how much I already got to tick off my Life "To Do Before I Die" list. I got to play in a rock band, I got to travel the world, I got to be a writer, I got to work in the entertainment business. I still have to finish the book I started when I turned 30 called "Thirty". I may want to re-think the title.

My 30th birthday: 1996. Another typical day, but 11 years ago: boyfriend dropped me off at work at my ad agency job after quitting my band a month prior. Came home from work to find that my boyfriend had moved out of my apartment without a word, then I went to dinner with a friend and there was a leak in the ceiling of the restaurant that leaked only directly on my head. My life was all wrong and the leak was the moment I got the idea to write a book. Soon after that I started writing professionally.

So things are better now. I'm here--and everything--even the bad stuff has been useful. I try to remember that when new bad stuff drops by. It always visits with new treats.

The only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was a writer. And here I am writing, so there you have it--I've realized my lifelong dream. So now I have to figure out what to do with the remaining 30 or 40 years. If I can truly quit smoking it may be longer. That may give me enough time to finish that damn book.

Your mind plays tricks on you, you play tricks back. That's my mantra.

Good night to all my Fuzz friends.

Anna's Blog

Mon, 11 Jun 2007 20:18:15 -0700

Here's what Anna (4 yrs. old) wants to say to the people on Fuzz:

"That the great Hammerhead Shark and Great White sharks don't get along. That Great White sharks bite you. And sometimes sharks are predators. And I have a movie called Kenny the Shark and I watch it. And I know me and my Mom know all about sharks. Me and my Mom are very good. And me my name is Anna Patricia Herman. I don't like Saw Sharks. But sometimes I'm obsessed with sharks. And sometimes I love butterflies. And my Mom sometimes, one time my Mom got almost bitten by a shark."

No I didn't, where did you hear that?

"I heard you on the phone with Chris your boss."

Oh, well, not quite bitten, but swimming in shark-infested waters in Perth, Australia, but found out after the fact.

"There's a squid on Spongebob Squarepants. I kinda like my Momma. I don't like old boots that are smelly. Momma I'm hungry."

OK, gotta go.

"Sharks sometimes are hungry."

Fuzz touring w/The Nightwatchman: RATM Fuzz page coming soon

Sun, 10 Jun 2007 08:26:45 -0700

Fuzz's own Abigail Picache (Fuzz username "Abigail") is currently touring with the Nightwatchman throughout the US this summer to help Tom sell some t-shirts and to help spread the word about Fuzz. Here's a bit of press to whet your appetite for all things Tom Morello. Check out The Nightwatchman Fuzz "News" tab on The Nightwatchman page for all the latest articles from around the world. Look for the Fuzz Rage Against the Machine page coming soon...

Tom Morello: The Nightwatchman
By Kevin C. Johnson
POST-DISPATCH POP MUSIC CRITIC
06/07/2007

Tom Morello

More than four years ago, while noted rock guitarist Tom Morello was knee-deep in the success that was the first Audioslave album, he began taking time off to do his own thing.

For the Rage Against the Machine veteran, that meant scouring newspapers for coffeehouses, hip-hop clubs and anywhere that open-microphone events were happening. He'd show up with his guitar and, billed as the Nightwatchman, perform folk-oriented, politically charged songs.

"Occasionally, people would know it was me," Morello said last week during a tour stop in Berlin. "Every once in a while, someone would go, 'Isn't that Tom Morello?'"

Now, with Audioslave looking done, he's out supporting his Nightwatchman CD, "One Man Revolution" — 13 songs of "bitterness and revenge." Advertisement

"This is something I've always felt compelled to do, but it was quite a challenge," Morello says. "I was always very comfortable playing loud rock guitar in front of 20,000 people, but then I was terrified of playing in front of only 20 people. It was a real leap forward for me."

Morello, who has a political-science degree from Harvard, wanted to do more educating than he'd ever be able to do through Audioslave or his "Axis of Justice" radio show and organization. So he set out to "make music with a purpose and mission in mind."

"It felt imperative for me to balance my arena rocking with Audioslave by playing these songs that are a lot heavier than the rock I was involved in," he says. "I've long been a fan of Johnny Cash, Bruce Springsteen, and Woody Guthrie, and I wanted to write songs in that genre. So I began doing it out of personal necessity, and it grew from there."

He opened for acts such as Billy Bragg and Steve Earle, and found himself getting tear-gassed and arrested along the way for his outspokenness.

"One Man Revolution" includes "Union Song," which Morello describes as a freedom fighting song; "No One Left," the song he feels no one else wrote about 9/11; and "House Gone Up in Flames," which takes a stab at former Secretary of State Colin Powell.

If there's one overriding message he'd like to put out there as the Nightwatchman, Morello says it's found in the album track "Maximum Firepower," on which he sings: "If you take a step towards freedom, it'll take two steps towards you."

"The only way for things to change is for us to act," he says. "That means addressing the dramatic concerns of the environment, and a planet that may become unlivable; the crime of poverty, and people not making a life for themselves; and a war perpetrated by the current administration in an immoral way."

Morello also believes that "bad" presidents make for great music. Indeed, he sees a noticeable increase in protest songs. "It's dramatic, from Bright Eyes to Green Day to Neil Young to Nine Inch Nails, and artists who haven't really spoken out before," he says. "And it's not just artists. It's people across the board."

He says the Nightwatchman music is going over well with fans of Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave, particularly those who were "fans of those bands for the right reasons. They'll recognize this music is made with the same passion and the same unflinching eye."

Morello sees an indefinite run for the Nightwatchman, especially because Audioslave seems dead and Rage Against the Machine is uncertain. The latter band reunited for a show this spring at the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival and will perform at some festivals with rap group Wu-Tang Clan this summer. Beyond that, "there's no plans. But we're not closing the doors."

As for Audioslave: "Chris Cornell quit the band. It's singerless. I'm very busy and content doing the Nightwatchman record. I have a catalog of 50 songs I believe in. This feels important to me. I love the independence of picking up a guitar and going anywhere."

Stoning Deaths, Kids Killed & other news items

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 23:56:34 -0700

I was folding wash the other day and hadn't watched the news in a while--thought I'd see what was, well, new. Story was about a girl who got stoned to death by the people in her village for falling in love with a guy outside of her faith. Saw the video--it was disturbing beyond words. Earlier in the week it was a news story about a woman who went to Iraq and left her 3 kids with her fiancee. Within a short time, between the belt and his fists, the fiancee killed one of her kids. Then tonight on CNN, Anderson Cooper talking about all the kids who got killed on the South Side of Chicago as innocent victims of gang members who can't aim well.

I just can't let this stuff roll off my mind. It sticks with me and greys my thoughts intermittently throughout the day as I do "normal" things. But there it is, and it's something new every day. Sometimes I can't watch the news because I can't take in any more of these images and thoughts.

Some stories stick too long, like the 18 month old who was found around here about 2 years or so ago. He weighed about the same at his death--from malnutrition and neglect--as he did at birth. The policeman who found him had to be treated for PTSD. His name was James Fredrickson. I'll never forget that story. He was kept in a crib for most of his life and almost never changed or cared for.

There's no point to this really. It just embeds in my mind. I wonder how other people watch the news.

That's it. I guess I should turn off the TV and go to bed.

Here, read about James:

It's time to quit smoking when your 4 yr old smashes your cigs w/ a croquet mallet

Thu, 03 May 2007 23:43:54 -0700

Yep. Anna was outside today with the croquet mallets which I let her use to play her hammerhead shark game (more on that later). She seemed like she was really beating the hell out of one of the sharks, so I stepped out and she had one of my cigarette packs on the ground and she was just pounding the shit out of it, saying "Stupid cigarettes!"

I've been doing the patch thing for over a month now and still smoke about 5 cigs a day (outside, never inside, so shut up). I think she's picked up on my struggle....

So, the Hammerhead sharks. We were watching Flipper the nice dolphin movie. I thought, perfectly appropriate for a 4 year old of her intelligence. Well, I didn't know there was a scene where an evil looking hammerhead shark breaches the water and devours a seagull. Since that moment she has been obsessed with Hammerhead sharks. It has been over a month. I can not tell you the stack of library books we have on the subject. She will no longer read any fluffy duffy goody two shoes books, she wants facts. She has at least strayed into squids, rays, crabs and other kinds of sharks, but man, for a while, it was just googling "hammerhead shark" to keep her happy.

By the way, we really don't play croquet, we just hit the balls--wickets are for sissies.

It's Friday night and I'm home and on the computer

Fri, 13 Apr 2007 22:08:29 -0700

How pathetic is that? Well, I don't drink anymore and I'm 40, so really, what are my options? I have no interest in going out. It entails standing. I hate standing. And seeing live music? After spending about 10 years at shows both watching & playing, it's got to be something special to get me to go and stand. Sorry, but it's true.

So the Fuzz site is becoming this kind of imaginary friend. I guess it's work, too in some ways. There's no delineation for me. There's no punching out because my job and who I am are intertwined. The only jobs I've had like that were my band, when I worked as a writer and then the Pollyanna years (self-imposed self-employment encompassing everything from artist management, music publishing, booking, publicity, and bartending). That's how I work best, when I don't feel like I'm working.

So back to my pathetic-ness. I don't really want to be anywhere. I get doses of cool shit every now and then. Tomorrow I'm going to a rally/show in Chicago to see Tom Morello play. I'm sure I can find a chair.

So, there you have it. I'm boring, but not actually bored. Is that possible? I think they call that aging.

Mini-documentary of Babes in Toyland

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 21:59:45 -0700

See Maux in her 20's! See Kat spit! See Lori's dreds! It was so fun...

Dave Hill is the funniest person on the planet

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 22:58:16 -0700

And he's in like 40 bands. So why isn't he on Fuzz? Is he a total asshole? Apparently. www.davehillonline.com. Tell him Maux sent you.