There’s an episode in season three of the legendary 1980’s TV show Cheers called “The Executive’s Executioner” in which the character Norm gets a new position at his accounting firm that entails him being the person who does all the firing. During his first few attempts at firing the people to whom he was assigned, you see Norm literally crying as he does it. It’s to the point where the victims of Norm’s “executions” end up comforting him as they are so blown away by his empathy and compassion for them, and they want to see him happy even though they are the ones who just got the ax. However, as he fires more people he becomes used to it and in turn more insensitive to their feelings, and he eventually starts enjoying the firings. At the end of the show Norm is laughing at the people as they walk out of his office in defeat.
I realized recently that although I’m not tasked with firing people, I do in a lot of ways, have a similar gig to Norm in that I have to let people know that they just aren’t cutting the mustard when it comes to becoming a member of my label’s roster. In the last month alone I “passed” on dozens of prospective artists for my label. Whether it was my choice or not, I had to make the call or send the email one by one letting people know that they weren’t the right “fit” or weren’t “quite ready” for a major label situation. Some were responses to people who approached me first, others were people that I had originally approached, and those are the toughest.
The difference between me and Norm, however, is that after all this time doing what I do, I never get used to that part of it. I hate it every time. I get knots in my stomach, I apologize profusely, and I always ramble on far too much in an attempt to explain why it's not going to work—It's not you it's me. I’ve even been comforted a time or two.
It’s especially difficult when it’s an artist that I personally love and have pursued, but that my boss just doesn’t want to move forward on. In those cases I have usually developed some sort of friendship with the artist and it always feels like I’m breaking up with them, it sucks to be honest, and it happens more often then not (see Music Man—I’ve Got Friends For Now). Most of the time I can’t even bring myself to listen to their music in the months following as it either tends to frustrate me that we weren’t able to sign, or it just brings back too many memories of the time I was trying to sign them and lost–lame I know, but I’m soft like that.
Not every band or musician is the right fit for my label or for any label for that matter, but I hope I never become like Norm because that would mean I’ve become callous not only to people’s feelings, but to their art and to their passion which is a totally subjective thing and should never be stopped just because one or two people in the industry say it’s not good enough. Okay let’s be honest, maybe in some cases it should be stopped for the sake of others, but the point is, the artist should continue making the art that makes them happy even if it never leaves the walls of their home.
Jay Harren
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