Rock Groups Have Rocky Road to Stardom

From The Journal News, written by Will Sherman

Selling a rock group to one of the giant New York recording companies is a tough campaign of Broadway pavement pounding, endless dickering, badgering receptionists, managers, lawyers, execs, friends.

A select few groups make it. They sell themselves and enjoy the flash of money, women, fame, travel and an exalt ed position in the elitist world of recorded stars.

Many groups, after long months of practice in cellars and one-night gigs in grimy clubs, finally get noticed, but fall into the cold, cashless, trap of a contract with no provisions for remuneration. There's only a promise that says "we will record you twice a year."

Getting strapped in like that is frequently all a group can get, but many groups are worth more. They know it, and fight for the best dollar possible.

This means more waiting, more dickering & more disappointments and the pitfalls of promises that never bloom into fact.

""But it's worth it," grinned Don Fagen, 22, keyboard specialist and coleader of a group negotiating with several record companies. They hope to sign for a figure "not less than $75,000."

Don Fagen's group, simply tagged "Fagen-Becker" after Don and Walter Becker, the quintet's bass player and coleader, is several cuts above most outfits bargaining for fame.

Both Don and Walter read and write music, have authored 15 published songs, and are sitting firmly and fondly in the expanding corporate lap of JANA enterprises. It is presided over by Jay and the Americans, a rock group of long standing.

"We're in an excellent position asking for that kind of money," explained Don and Walter, hunched over cheese burgers ant beer in a Greenwich Village Cafe.

"Yeah," said Don, "after two years of walking around Broadway with our envelope of songs. The day of the song plugger is over and you can't just walk into a record company, sit down at a piano, play your stuff and ask for a decision. Nowadays, without a connection you can't even get by the receptionist at the gate."

Taking time out from the cheeseburgers, Don and Walter, with help from their women in tow, described their long campaign for a contact.

"You see," said Walter, "I was living in a loft above a gambling joint in the West for ties, and Don was finishing up at Bard College and we had this envelope of songs."

"That was all we had, just that envelope," added Don. "We walked into every recording company around Broadway but nobody listened." ...

Money was getting short, the boys' shoe leather was wearing out and with it, their optimism when they strolled into 1619 Broadway one blistering day during the summer of '68.

"It was Jay and the Americans' office," said Don, "First, a lackey listened to our stuff. Then we met one of the Americans who listened to our songs. He ducked back into the office, played it for two others, came out and said 'Write us a commercial for Trans Texas Airlines.'

What Trans Texas Airlines had to do with rock music was a mystery to the boys, but they wrote it, sent it in and heard no more from Jay and his band for almost a year.

"It's like that," said Don.

"They talk to you enthusiastically one day, and then you don't hear a word for months."

A year passed by, and the boys spent the time picking up accompaniments with studio rhythm sections, and working on a record called "Boona" by Terry Boylan.

"The record was a disaster," said Don. "And we never even got paid for it."

But then, in August '69, for some strange, and still unknown reason, Jay and the Americans started calling Don and Walter again, and the two ever-patient musicians started working on Jay's albums and writing songs for JANA's Hi-Life Music Corp.

"Then we teamed up with Jay's drummer, John Disepalo, singer Keith Thomas and guitarist Denny Dias - all of whom had been knocking around studios for some time. All of a sudden we found we had a group," said Don.

The boys met Keith and Denny through an ad in an underground paper that said, "have jazz chops - call ..." Jazz chops is music patois for an ability to play jazz.

THREE MONTHS AGO. Don and Walter, armed with their published songs, a name as studio musicians, and the endorsement of Jay and the Americans, started pounding the Broadway pavement again. This time, with a manager Kenny Vance, also of Jay's group.

"Managers call this doing a number," said Don. "It goes something like this...

"We show them our music and they listen to our tapes, The A & R men say: 'We like it.'

"We ask them for $75,000 before we sign.

"They say: 'We'll sleep on it.' They come back with an offer considerably lower than our demand.

"Then we say: 'We'll sleep on it!'"

"It's the equivalent of haggling with a rug merchant," laughed Walter.

While they're bargaining with Aveo-Embassy, United Artists and Elektra, they're doing more and more studio work for which they get paid $50 for every two-hour session.

The boys are on the brink of success and the campaign trail tale took several hours and much beer.

''Hey, the future looks rosy," mugged Don.

That's right. It certainly looks rosy," mimicked Walter, drumming on the table.

They paid the check and took a taxi home.