I've Sold Catalogs to Warner, BMG, and Sony…
Here's What I Actually Think Made the Difference
“What’s your secret?”
The question comes up more than I’d expected. Usually from someone who's been at this long enough to know the deals happen, but not long enough to know why they happen to some people and not others.
I don't have a tidy answer. But I have an honest one.
The secret, if there is one, isn't some arcane strategy. It's not a relationship hack or a negotiating tactic or knowing the right person at the right company at the right moment. Those things matter and certainly help, but they're not the variable that explains the repeated outcome.
The variable to keep front of mind if you want to build something that someone, someday, will be interested in buying… is what you actually bring to the table.
Catalog quality is not a given. They think if they're working hard and making music they personally believe in, the quality question is settled when it comes to marketability. But it isn't. Quality in this context means something deeper and more specific than personal taste: music that was made with a clear purpose, executed without compromise, and built to hold up over time. It means saying no to the track that almost works. It means not including an extra track or two just because you needed to ‘fill’ an album. It means knowing the difference between a marketable catalog… and a collection of tracks.
I spent years making those distinctions and holding the line before anyone with a checkbook was paying attention. Not because I knew a deal was coming (I didn't) but because I knew that's what the work required. Intentionality isn't a mere business strategy. It's a standard you hold yourself to when nobody's watching. The business outcome many of us hope for, when it came, was far downstream of that.
The other piece is patience, and I mean real patience… not the kind where you're white-knuckling it and checking your email every day hoping something moves. The kind where you've genuinely internalized that this takes as long as it takes, and that trying to force the timeline usually costs you something. Premature deals, under-valued catalogs, relationships built on urgency rather than trust… I've watched all of it play out among my peers and have made plenty of those mistakes myself.
I know what selling too soon feels like because I've done it. There was a deal I made when the offer felt fine and the timing seemed good—except the timing was only attractive for me in that moment because of external pressures (life changes, payroll needs, tax bill, you get the idea), not because it was right for the catalog. The label had more room to run. I knew it, somewhere, and ignored that intuition because the certainty of a deal is seductive in a way that's hard to explain until you've felt it. I got a decent price, but I probably left a good chunk of money on the table. More than the money, I lost the leverage that comes from holding something that's still appreciating. That's a different kind of lesson than anything you can read in a book, and it's one of the reasons I try to help guide friends and clients who are in the midst of the same turbulence.
The flip side of patience is knowing when market forces and trends are working against your future valuation… and that's an equally important read. It's a subtle skill that's hard to develop without having lived through a few cycles. In my career I've been an early believer/investor on some things that paid off, and that track record is part of what I pay attention to now when I'm evaluating a new phase of the company or a new year of releases. Knowing when to hold and knowing when the window is actually closing are different skills, and both matter.
Urgency is palpable. Buyers can smell it. What they actually want—and I mean the ones worth doing business with—is confidence. Not bravado, not posturing. Confidence. The kind that comes from knowing what you have, knowing what it's worth, and being genuinely okay with walking away from something that isn't right. That's hard to fake. It's also hard to manufacture on a timeline. It tends to develop in people who've been doing serious work for a long time and have had that work affirmed and confirmed by other professionals.
So if you're asking what my secret is: I made music I believed in for far longer than felt reasonable, I didn't rush the business side, and I knew what I had when the conversations started. That's it. It's not a secret at all. It's just harder than it sounds.