Daniel Sparks here, I go by Danny. My friend Neil asked if I
wanted a summer job as a “roadie,” someone who went with a band to do all the
non-music things that need done. I agreed. In 1969, I figured it would be an
adventure of a lifetime. It was far more than that.
I’m a bit older than the rest of the guys by a couple of
years. I studied business in college, and knew nothing about music. The rest of
the guys studied music in college, and knew nothing about business. I was
pretty sure I wouldn’t be just a roadie for long. Especially because the band
had less than a month to establish itself or go out of existence.
I went along with the band and every member became my good
friend for decades. I didn’t need to know much about music to realize these
guys were way above the level of the competition before their first rehearsal. I
also realized these guys had no idea of their potential, and were ripe for
being victimized by an industry that exploited the talented but ignorant for its
own benefit.
They signed a two-year contract with somebody they thought
could help them; he could only limit them. They were being offered little money
and none of the amenities standard among music event promoters. I didn’t need
to know anything about how to make music, just about the industry. I did basic
research and was off to the races.
I negotiated their agreements and got them hotel rooms,
catering and a lot better money. I negotiated discounts, found them
opportunities and got them financial security. I introduced processes that bypassed
a lot of the Sturm und Drang around their industry.
I made money, got a career redirection and learned an
incredible amount about real tolerance and inclusivity. Mostly, I made great
friends for the rest of my life.
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