He Was a Lovely Human, obvs

July 1996... I started my own business after being unceremoniously fired via FedEx (“Don’t come in, the locks have been changed.”) by a voiceover guy with a penchant for substances both legal and illegal (Joe Kelly—not his real name, as it turned out, but that's a whole other story). A problematic and flawed human being who I am nonetheless extremely grateful to have met if for no other reason than this… he introduced me to the world of production music.

He’d been a Rock God Voiceover for years, but was losing clients to the Alternative Revolution that was happening all around us in the wake of the Nevermind and Jagged Little Pill explosion. So, in an effort to inject some cash into his operation he said we should make a music library for alternative radio stations because, as he so delicately put it, “all these corporate libraries suck.” I asked him “what’s a music library?”

Had no idea what that one question would mean to my career…. but off I went to make my first production music album. Maybe I’ll dig into that archive someday.

After he sent that FedEx I mostly remember him telling me I would amount to nothing. I heard about him telling others I stole equipment, that I hadn't actually been that talented, that there was no money in music libraries and that I was lucky to have been in his presence for two years.

I still have the letter in which he accused me of causing my first wife's miscarriage. He was a lovely human, obviously. I kept all of his legendary typewriter rants and scathing handwritten memos, and have referenced them from time to time when I’m questioning my own professionalism or decision making and leadership. I’m older now than he was at the time I worked for him, and that perspective sometimes messes with my head… it’s good to have some documents on hand to see how far we’ve all come.

Ran into him at a mutual musician friend’s show in Milwaukee back in ‘98 or ‘99 I think, a few years after I'd found some success in this business with my own venture and moved to Los Angeles... I could feel my blood boiling because I wanted to rip his skull from his neck and tell him how I really felt. But I paused a moment, took a few breaths, and made my way over to his table to say hello and offer sincere thanks for opening the world of music licensing to me and that I was grateful for the opportunity to have built a career in this particular niche of the industry.

I absolutely meant the “thanks.” I would not have the life I enjoy today had I not taken that job editing and splicing together his voiceover takes (on analog 1/4” tape, no less!).

In a spur of the moment brainstorm and as a potential olive branch, I proceeded to tell him he was missing out on all kinds of royalties (he had never registered with the PROs any of the work we’d put out in our time together) and that I was happy to help set up a plan to register and recover that lost revenue. “You can be the full publisher, I don’t care” … even though we’d never signed a single sheet of paper let alone any contract that might be legally binding, I was ready to try and pay it forward and, yes, get whatever might be out there in terms of writer’s royalties.

Without standing up, he replied from his seat “Ok, send me your ideas.”

So I spent a weekend and wrote up a business plan. Sent it to him via email a few days later.

It took him all of an hour to reply, saying I was a moron who knew nothing, was trying to take advantage of him, saying I was out of my depth, that he was happy he fired me when he did.

I’ve now made (literal) millions of dollars in royalties as a composer and songwriter, and my extensive ASCAP statements over the past 30 years are absent a single cue I’d made while under his roof.

Apparently, Former Jerk Boss / Voiceover Guy died last year. I only found out a few months ago and have had all of this rolling around in my head for a bit, trying to sort out how I feel about it all. Honestly, feeling good about how I tried to extend an olive branch, when there was zero need to and no one watching… and if anyone owed anyone an apology in this relationship, it was him. I did the mental math that night, could hear my father and grandpa in my ear, angels on my shoulders holding the demons at bay. The first of my 3 children had been born by then, and the memory of his previous invective was fresh on my mind. But still… living in such negativity was not how I wanted to structure my life… professionally or personally.

So, yeah, glad I made the choice I did.

Not sure what the larger point of this might be other than this : you just never know how the pieces of your path might align for good, opportunity, and success.

What I do know is that the grace I managed to summon that night in '98 or '99 didn't come from nowhere. It came from having watched someone else do it first… my mentor Jim Long (also not his real name—two Irishmen with pseudonyms bookending the most formative chapter of my career, I find that darkly hilarious), who modeled that kind of quiet, earned dignity better than anyone I've ever known in this business. The good bosses teach you how to handle the bad ones. The right mentors leave something behind in you that holds steady when your blood is boiling and your father and grandfather are whispering in your ear.

I think about that a lot these days, now that I find myself occasionally in the mentor seat. Most composers I talk to have never had a Jim Long. Some have had a version of Joe Kelly. Very few have had both, which is its own kind of education.

Keep your eyes open. Be good people. And if you're lucky enough to find someone in this industry who actually wants to see you succeed… hold onto that. It's rarer than it should be.