Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Never Write A Letter To The Bee Gees

One of the part time jobs I had in LA was working for a company called Left Bank. They managed bands like Duran Duran, The Cranberries, and the Bee Gees. One of the Big Kahunas in the company used to be a standup comic back in NY. He said he was glad he left the profession because now he could pay his bills. And eat. On a regular basis.

Quitter. I floated round the office but mainly was on the Reception Desk because of my personality. I’ll talk to a dead person, and have, so I was the perfect choice to terrify encourage the wannabes who came in and were nervous. My job was to get them to relax so they wouldn’t be so annoying when they met with the managers. Most of them told me to shut the fuck up ignored me.

I got tons of free CDs and learned some disappointing things. When they got musician submissions in the mail, and they got a lot, they were automatically tossed into a large closet, never to be seen again or opened. If you didn’t have an agent, manager or lawyer submitting you, that was the end of that. Very few people called to check on their submissions. I remember one in the few months I worked there. Later on, when I started writing screenplays, I never blindly sent out scripts but took a more professional route and tossed them directly into the trash.

I had no idea how hard they worked to get airplay. The woman in charge of that department fielded over a hundred calls a day. If you worked for her, you had to be calm and serene because the pace was frantic. I lasted 4 days with her before my head fell off. But at least I understood why you heard the same shitty songs over and over and over while you were driving 4 blocks to the dry cleaners.

To this day I never listen to music on the radio. Flashbacks. I always wonder if YouTube made their job easier.

Never write a fan letter to a management company. I can tell you exactly where they end up. If you do by chance get an autographed picture, it was signed by the secretary to the janitor.

Once I worked for the big manager, Tommy. Everyone loved him. He was smart and funny and really sweet. One day I got a call.

“Left Bank.”
“Yeah, let me talk to Tommy.”
“Who shall I say is calling?”
“Me who?” I laughed a little but wanted to say, ARE YOU KIDDING ALREADY?

Yeah that helps, draw it out.

“Meeeeeeeeeee who?” Was this guy high? Music + spaz phone call = drugs.

Seriously, what is wrong with people?

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeee WHO?”

Meetuh? Who the hell is meetuh?

And then I remembered, that’s what they called Meatloaf. One of their clients.

Now that I've put up the promotional CD cover, I realize it says "Must be returned on demand of copyright owner." Yeah, well they don't know where I live and if they find me, I hope they bring a big box.

End of chat.


  1. being a backing vocalist brought me some similar moments...onstage but no one is looking at you!!!

  2. Anonymous4:49 PM

    i hate the radio.

    And if anyone wants that CD back I do believe I have your address- I'll sell it for the right price ;)

    And yeah I have to send that tea at some fucking point-I know

  3. Ha Ha!! "Meeeee" I'm probably going to remember that at odd times of the day and laugh where people are going to look at me weird.

  4. I wrote countless letters to Shaun Cassidy at "Warner Bros." Might as well have been writing Santa Claus. And to think, all this time, up until NOW, I thought he really understood how I felt. Dammit.

  5. Thanks for giving me chest pain from laughing soo hard! "...directly into the trash"ha ha!
    And Merecat, Shaun was busy answering MY emails. We were lovers.(Ok, I made that part up)

  6. Awesome! :-) I always wondered what it was like to work at a place like that - I used to want to, naively (I suppose) thinking that would get my foot in the door.

  7. Hillarious post. But it left me wanting to know more - like what you talk about with dead people. And where. And when.

    I just don't need to know why.

  8. I like music. That's why I only listen to news on the radio in the car.

  9. So you talked to Meatloaff?! Lucky!