Danny Goldberg: A MiniMasterclass

Mon 7th Sep, 2009 in Features

The microphone is held up to the face of Brisbane this weekend as the 2009 music industry summit and showcase Big Sound takes to the Fortitude Valley stage. It’s what Michael Chugg refers to as a “world-class event”.

With a veritable who’s who of industry luminaries booked to dissect, discuss and share advice and experiences there’s many an artist and wanna-be industry personality heading to Brisvegas with pen and notebook poised.

One such talking head is Danny Goldberg, who heads up Gold Village Entertainment, manages Tom Morello, The Hives and Ben Lee (among many others) and has an untouchable resume. His first music writing gig was reviewing Woodstock, he acted as publicist for a young Led Zeppelin and was the man with the gold pen when Seattle trio Nirvana were looking to sign up a manager.

In a tidy twist of fate, facilitating Danny’s keynote address will be controversial music writer Everett True – the Brit who was sent to Seattle to cover the emergence of grunge and ended up introducing Kurt to Courtney. I ask Danny what he thinks Everett has in store for him.

“God only knows!” laughs Goldberg. “I don’t know Everett that well. We met a couple of times briefly during the time I managed Nirvana [and] he gave my book a generous review in The Guardian. His book about Nirvana was a really good book; he had complicated feelings about his memories of me then but it was not all bad. It’ll be an interesting conversation.”

That’s an understatement. But what do I expect from a guy who has headed up more music companies than I’ve had digital downloads? Danny is still regularly quoted as saying he – œdoesn’t have a real job’ for chrissakes.

“Well, I do that feel that way,” he admits earnestly. “I say that all the time. Even though it’s difficult and stressful sometimes, I’m very lucky to have some connectivity to creative people. No one feels good about what they do every day, every hour, but most people have jobs where they never get the feeling we get. I’m attracted to art. To me, artists are individuals. They’re defined by what’s in their hearts and souls and what they do creatively.

“Artists, to me, are created somewhere in the cosmos and they’re really not products of a particular country or a particular city. I love the people I work with and – with very, very few exceptions – I find them to be my favourite people. They’re members of my own family. They’re talented, great people. That’s why I do this kind of work.”

In his book Bumping Into Geniuses: My Life Inside The Rock and Roll Business Danny described feeling “the naive excitement of a teenager” when seeing Nirvana perform for the first time. Despite his success, is it still the search for that feeling that propels him?

“Yeah, seeing the people I work with [play] live is a big inspiration and reconnects me with why I do what I do. All the people I represent are good live artists. That, to me, is one of the things that I require to wanna represent them.”

He’s not exactly at the coalface these days, though. Does he actually goes out and sees new bands or music, as opposed to the established artists he works with?

“Not too often,” Danny says ruefully, “because I’m preoccupied with the clients I already represent. I’m not getting any younger. If somebody close to me really exhorts me to see a new band, I’ll do it. Ben Lee turned me onto The Grates, for example. He was so strong in his belief that I didn’t want to disrespect a client whose intelligence I respect so much, and he was absolutely right,” he says, before adding that frontwoman Patience Hodgson is “really brilliant.”

He does admit, as well, that his business, Gold Village Entertainment, doesn’t take on many new artists.

“We have a couple of new artists and that to me is the right ratio. For every four or five more established artists you might be able to afford to take on one new artist. You can only do it very rarely if you do it the way I do it. For me, management is a very personal business. You really have to be available, personally.”

The uprising of the digital age has affected the industry in many ways; bands can do a lot more for themselves than in previous decades and to be self-managed is not a point of difference anymore. Does an artist even need a manager and if so, when?

“I think it’s a big mistake to have a general rule for artists because every artist has got a different career and a different set of options,” he cautions diplomatically. What is true of most artists though, he continues, is that “it’s very difficult for an artist to do everything themselves and do it well. Some of the very big artists hire a staff of people to do the work for them that in another time in their career a manager might have done. To deal with all the aspects of the business all over the world is physically impossible for one or two people, or a band, if they’re going to do it well. How they’re going to approach those jobs depends on how much money they have and how much money they are able to make other people.

“I think the right time is when the right manager is there for the right artist. Who’s right requires that they believe in the music, they have some ability to comprehend the business and be respected in the business and that they have the time so that both of you have time to pursue other things.”

A good rule of thumb, Goldberg believes, is that, “you find someone you believe in, who believes in you,” and certainly, he warns, “It’s better to have nobody than have the wrong manager.”

There’s still a indie-cultural cringe around having a – œmanager’. An air of wariness among some creatives who can’t quite reconcile the intangibility of their art with the idea of being a part of the – œbusiness’.

“Nobody forces any artist to be commercial,” he counters. “Some of them wanna do it; some of them feel driven to do it. Some of them feel that they want to share their music with large numbers of people. Some people who are incredibly talented don’t have that kind of ambition. But if you want to make money for yourself, you’ve got to make money for other people in order to motivate them to work. It’s really a choice.”

At my level, I remind Danny, those – œother people’ – indie door bitches, promoters and managers – often work hard to promote their acts with neither camp earning any moolah. The proliferation of music business schools suggest there’s more to successful artist management – on his level – than passion and time. But is there?

“I wasn’t a very good student of any kind. Personal, or career, management, historically [music management has] been a mentorship where you work for a manager and absorb an approach and a style. I’m not sure that it’s something that can be taught in school. But there are certain skills that can be taught in school: publicity, advertising, basic economics of the business.”

So us bottom feeders might just make it?

He sounds as if he’s shrugging. “Probably. Listen, there’s no guarantee. Everybody who’s successful – and they’ll all tell you if they’re honest – is that there’s luck factored into it. Half of whether or not you’re successful is luck; the mysterious factors that you can’t do through force of will.

“The key is to cover your part of it. Artists can go years and not do well, then the planets line up and they have a moment. You wanna be prepared when that happens, but you can’t get discouraged because there’s a whole part of it that no human being controls. One thing all the successful people have in common is that they hang in there. They don’t get discouraged.”

BIG SOUND 2009 will be held from the 9 to 11 of September in Fortitude Valley, Brisbane. Keep up with the programme at the Big Sound website.