The office I was given at Epic was located between the offices of Barry Kornfeld and Sandy Linzer, who were both A&R men and producers, as well. Both had been there for some time, and were at least five years older than I. Barry seemed partial to folk music, and had longish hair and a curly beard. He was soft-spoken, helpful and easygoing. I’m honestly not sure what he did at Epic, but I know he was involved with Tom & Harry Chapin early in their singing careers, and he was related to Artie Kornfeld , a successful producer/songwriter in the ’60s, and one of Woodstock’s originators. On the other side of me was Sandy Linzer, a pleasant, clean-cut guy from New Jersey who was a great songwriter, and had written some big hits for Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, including “Let’s Hang On.” Sandy was involved with a few artists while I was there, and just before he and Barry left Epic, he cut the original track to “Brandy” by Looking Glass, but the band felt it was a little too pop and wound up re-recording it with another producer. Sandy was managed by a casually dressed young guy with a great sense of humor, who would stop in my office after his frequent meetings with Sandy, and greet me with “Werman, what’s up?” He would sit down and we’d chat about the music business for a few minutes. I always enjoyed these impromptu meetings with the young Tommy Mottola.
After Barry and Sandy were let go, I was the senior A&R man at the label, reporting to Don Ellis. Don was the first A&R head to be named a Vice President (instead of “director”), probably in part to accommodate his pay grade. This was a good development for all of us, because I could now be promoted from “assistant” to “director.” Corporations like CBS had pretty strict pay grades, and your title needed to be on a par with your salary. I always found it a little amusing to find myself in an LA recording studio in 1980 in shorts and a tee shirt, knowing that I held the title of “Senior Vice President / Executive Producer.” By then, I was valuable enough to the label to be making a salary of nearly $200,000 a year, so in order to fit into one of CBS’s corporate pay slots, I had to have an important – sounding title. I always enjoyed handing out my business card, because it made me sound like a major corporate dude, while I was actually just a young guy who really liked rock & roll and was having a tremendous time making records.
But back in the first half of the ’70s, things were getting a little frustrating for me at Epic Records. After the REO signing, I had found and attempted to sign three different acts, each of whom was rejected by my boss for different reasons; these three acts went on to become three of the biggest-selling acts in the history of rock & roll. The frustration I suffered when I witnessed the eventual success of these bands was hard to bear. If I hadn’t respected and liked Don Ellis as much as I did, I probably would have held him directly responsible, but the fact was that not only was Don unenthusiastic about these bands, but I lacked the confidence and determination to argue their cases before his court of musical taste and insist we sign them. I should have. I discovered each of these acts well before anyone else in the A&R community was aware of them, but I folded in the face of doubt and opposition. Later in my career, I heard about people like Mike Appel, Springsteen’s first manager, who apparently had mortgaged his house to support Bruce’s career. This is confidence in an artist; and while I thought very highly of these acts I had seen, I didn’t enjoy the position of power in the company that would enable or entitle me to argue forcefully in their favor. (more…)
There was an episode of television’s 