Heather and I have wildly different definitions of a “friend.” For her, a friend is someone you’ve known a very long time, someone you trust completely, you know the names of their family members, etc. For me, a friend is someone I’d like to say hello to and briefly catch up at a public function…someone whose full name I can remember. She’d say I have a less than 10 friends; I’d say I have hundreds of friends. Who is right?
It’s mission critical that I have a lot of “friends” because I rely on referrals to build clientele. Clients come from referrals, referrals come from friends. They often come from people who would barely meet my own criteria for friendship. Of course, I remember who referred me each of my best clients over the years, and none of them are in my “close friends” circle.
Music is a relationship business, for better or worse. I’ve met some of the best people I’ve ever known in this business, and yes, some of the worst people as well. No surprise, it’s a balance of extremes. Entertainment attracts strong personalities - myself included, I suppose. The one thing I’ve never done, I’m proud to say, is to go through the motions of friendship with someone I don’t respect in the hopes of achieving personal or professional gain. Bottom line, to be my friend by any definition, I have to like you. As it should be!
I experienced a rather disorienting time when I left law practice to become a music executive. My business had previously consisted primarily of making deals on behalf of artists. I built relationships with executives from the companies with whom my artist clients did their deals. I built relationships of convenience within the dynamic of mutual benefit. I wanted to find deals for my clients; executives wanted to find artists to do deals with their company. That’s how we know each other; that quid-pro-quo is the foundation of our relationship. Some of those relationships closely resembled friendship.
Then when I started my new job, a few of those perceived friends wanted nothing to do with me. We’d gone from having a business relationship built on mutual benefit to being in competition with one another to make deals for our respective companies. I guess I’m a little naive, because it seems obvious that such an extreme change in business orientation would negatively impact a relationship. Nevertheless, I didn’t see it coming. The foundation wasn’t there, so when the purpose went away, so did the perceived friendship.
I’ll call attention, however, to one particular friend, someone I’ve known for decades who really helped me get started in the business. This friend has been there many times for me, and I’ve been there for him. He’s a friend by Heather’s definition, no question. I felt a little nervous because, for the first time, we would have to compete with each other. I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about my job because the company planned a press release. I would have called this friend had I been able…I’d have preferred he didn’t find out about my job from an article in Billboard. But that’s how it had to go down.
My friend called me that day, and the first thing he said was “Congratulations.” We chatted for a few minutes, then he said something like, “I’d like to ask you to not steal my employees.” I said, sure, so long as you pay me the same courtesy. That was it.
Then a wild thing happened. We actually found ways to continue to support each other as friends. We competed, but we also continued to refer business to one another. His counsel was so important to help me transition into my unfamiliar new role. Our friendship continued without interruption, without bitterness, and in a way that has continued, even though I’m not in that job anymore.
Maybe this anecdote supports Heather’s definition of friendship. Maybe a conditional friendship isn’t a friendship at all. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t think about these distinctions when I’m in the world interacting with people, though I do keep a low-level awareness of who might become a referral source. But as it turns out, I usually get it wrong.
Many of my friendships are with people completely outside music, who have no professional contacts or resources to share with me, nor do I have any to share with them. I’ve learned (and felt) that it becomes increasingly difficult for men in middle age to develop new friendships. It’s a tough for men culturally, but it’s even more difficult for men who are no longer of the age where people “hang out.” I maintain that we need to find opportunities and excuses to hang out, because that’s where we find people with whom we want to pursue friendships. And one thing is clear: It takes effort. Even the most casual, superficial, and fleeting friendship takes time and action.
Speaking of effort, I remember the moment my business friend went from being a casual friend to a real friend. On a call about some forgotten deal, my friend opened up to me about something stressful and upsetting in his personal life. He took a risk in introducing vulnerability. This gave me tacit permission to be vulnerable. That’s called trust, and that’s when our friendship transformed into something more substantial and meaningful. Vulnerability goes against our nature and conditioning as men, but it’s essential to real friendship.
This is very relatable, especially where the music industry is concerned. I still remember the time I switched jobs and was thus no longer in a position of power to be helpful to certain artists/labels/managers - and they no longer gave me the time of day. I also wasn't expecting it - and it stung! But like you - I've found my true friends and found a good balance. Thanks for writing this.