12 Music Week 12.12.14 THE BIG INTERVIEW BARRY DICKINS
What do you make of the general corporatisation of music over the past three decades? You know, when I started, the music business was full of characters. There’s far fewer of them now - especially in America. You walk into some management companies out there and it’s like walking into an accountants - there’s all these people typing in little glass cubicles. They’ve got a plant if they’re lucky - that means they’re doing alright! That’s not personal management to me. Personal management should be walking into an office and wanting to hang out. You have a business plan, of course, but there’s no need to be so bloody corporate. There’s loads of that type in LA. Not for me.
I’m lighting the blue touch paper here: what’s your opinion on the rise and rise of the secondary ticketing market? Whoa. It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? I come from the era of Stan Flashman - what we used to call ticket touts. Now all they’ve done is kind of license and legitimise those people. I kind of blame people for going on the sites in the first place. If they boycotted them, it wouldn’t work. I’m very weird about ticket prices - I don’t like charging too much. But then you look at the theatre; try getting a West End ticket for less than £60, and half the time it’s crap! Secondary ticketing is kind of like prostitution; you’re never going to stop it, it’s always going to be there, but it needs to be regulated.
The biggest problem comes when promoters pass ticket resale sites ‘primary’ tickets behind-the- scenes - before the public can buy them - then take a cut of the profits after they’re sold as ‘second-hand’ at inflated prices.
RIGHT
It takes two: Barry with client Billy Idol (left) and with his business partner at ITB, Rod Macsween; (far right
page) Dickins’ personal roster at ITB also includes Bob Dylan and
Neil Young, who he’s worked with since 1968
www.musicweek.com
Yes. I won’t mention any names but [a secondary ticketing company] came in here and said to me: ‘You don’t deal with us. And you know we get [primary tickets] anyway.’ I said: ‘I’m sure you do, but I can’t condone it. Why would I do business with you?’ Next thing I know I’m offered a brown envelope. I’m thinking: ‘A f*cking brown envelope?! That’s like something from the sixties!’ I don’t know what I was more upset about - the fact they offered me a bribe or how small it was!
WHEN BARRY MET… JIM MORRISON AND THE DOORS
I want to ask about your partnership with Rod Macsween at ITB and how long that’s lasted. You joined Rod at ITB in 1978, starting with Neil Young and Aerosmith… I sometimes wonder how we’ve done it. The biggest compliment I can pay Rod Macsween is that there are a lot of good agents, but for me, he’s the best. He’ll go out and kill for his acts. If I was a manager, I’d want him to be my agent. He’s genuinely amazing at it. He’s got good ears,
“The Doors bought me a dog in London, but it wasn’t from kennels or anything. I think it was a dodgy dog. It knocked my son Jonathan over when he was a toddler. You never know, it might have knocked some sense into him” BARRY DICKINS, ITB
but he was absolutely mental. He knocked my son Jonathan over when he was a toddler. The boy went flying - might have knocked some sense into him, you never know. I ended up giving the dog to a mate in Scotland who had a farm with lots of land. It was a better environment for him. “Anyway, The Doors… The story I always tell is
that I was having a drink in the manager’s office in Santa Monica Boulevard. The phone goes, and it’s all, ‘Yeah, yeah, meet you there in a few minutes.’ Turns out Jim wants us to join him for a drink. “So we cross this road - a pain in the arse because it’s like crossing a motorway out there - and we head towards this place that looks like a British pub, called The Telephone Booth. Inside there’s all these booths, and then a very small round platform, raised about a foot off the floor. Suddenly this girl comes out and starts dancing - no tops, no bottoms. “I’m a kid: I’d never seen this before. Jim Morrison’s
“The Doors bought me a dog. It was every bit as mad as Jim Morrison, that dog. I think it’s the strangest gift I’ve ever received - an old English Sheepdog. Maybe it
reminded them of me. They bought it in Kensington somewhere, but not from a kennels or anything - I think it was a dodgy dog. I kept him for about two years,
drinking away, then the music stops. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he says. And off he disappears with this girl. “Ten minutes after he comes back, another girl comes out and the same thing happens - off Jim goes again. I turned round to the manager and said: “Jesus, he’s got a weak bladder ain’t he?”
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40
