. . . to blow up a nation . . .
I sat in front of my parents at the kitchen table with a lump in my throat. I said, “Mom, Dad. This has been a tough decision for me to make because I really wanted to play football and stay in school and everything—”
“And,” my father said, cutting me off already.
I calmed myself and just looked at him civilly. I didn't want the conversation to be a confrontation. I wanted us to discuss things like adults.
I said, “Please, Dad, just hear me out.”
He nodded and didn't say a word, so I continued. My mother was just listening.
I said, “I've never had a serious football injury in my life. And for it to come at this time, right when I had finally made the starting lineup . . . I mean, it just felt like a sign for me to support what my friend John is doing in the music industry as his manager. I'm good at it, and I'm respected for it.”
My mother cut in on me and said, “But what about your own career in something else? You don't have to play football.”
I said, “I know I don't. But music management is a career. And there's no real classes for it. You just have to feel your way through. John has been asking me to be his manager ever since I got him his first paid performance at Norfolk State last year.”
My father asked, “And how much was that for?”
I said, “A thousand dollars. But that's only ten percent or less than what John could make once he's established himself with his album coming out this year.”
I was trying to make it seem more business than personal. After all, I was dropping out of school to manage, so I figured that I had to speak on it as a monetary career move. Of course, I couldn't admit to them that Norfolk State hadn't paid us all of the money.
My mother asked me, “And what if John just all of a sudden gets bored with it and he doesn't want to do it anymore? Then what? Do you have someone else lined up to manage?”
She had a good point. I smiled and said, “I need to make plenty of friends while I'm out there with John then. But once people know that I'm a good manager, new artists will seek me out.”
My father said, “You mean you hope that they'll seek you out.”
I thought about how easy it was for me to speak up to all of the movers and shakers in the music business, and I said, “I believe that, as your son, I can handle myself. Because you didn't raise no punks, Dad. And I don't represent myself that way.”
I thought it was a good line. I had to hold in my smile. But my mother didn't hold in hers. She outright started laughing at the table.
My father snapped, “Don't you patronize me, boy,” with no smile on his face. He said, “Your mother and I have already talked about all of this. We were just waiting for it to come down the pike.”
I sat silently, wondering what they said in those talks.
My father went on. He said, “Your mother and I listened to those tapes that John made, and I must admit that the stuff sounds pretty good.”
I cut him off and said, “Music.”
“Yeah,” he said to me. “So I told your mother that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for you to manage your friend, I was just more concerned about you finishing your education.”
I cut in and said, “I can always go back to school, Dad. I'll just have to pay for it out of my own pocket this time.”
He said, “You got that part right. So you better think about saving the money that you'll need to do it. But I told your mother that unless you can definitely make the pros in football—and there really ain't no guarantees of you doing that, son, no matter how good you think you are—I said that this music thing may not be a bad idea.”
I was surprised as ever! My dad sounded like he was giving me the okay to go for it. I guess he had been waiting for me to come out with it on my own first.
He said, “I look at how my life has been, working blue-collar and killing my body on the job every day, and I figured that my boys shouldn't have to go through that same everyday shit to make a buck.”
I stopped him again and said, “So, you were just waiting for me to say something about it?” I was curious.
My father looked at my mother.
My mother smiled at me and said, “As soon as I heard John's song on the radio, I told your father, ‘Look, we need to talk.’ And we knew that you were into football at the time and everything, but we both wondered how long it would take for you to start changing your mind. Especially since you hadn't had a chance to play like you wanted to. So we just figured that if anything went wrong this year, then that would be it.”
I felt like jumping for joy! I had to hold myself down at the table, but that didn't stop me from smiling real wide.
My father said, “Actually, if you were the oldest son, or even the number two, I wouldn't have stood for this shit. So you get the benefit of being our last boy. I'm willing to take a chance on you to do something different. As long as you have in mind to use some of the money to go back to school and finish your education like you said. ”
My father was obviously going to hold me to my word. I started wishing that I hadn't said that. But a deal was a deal. It seemed like my heart had jumped outside of my shirt, I was so happy.
I said, “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom,” and took a deep breath.
My father took one too. He said, “I just hope that you don't turn this into a big mistake.”
“I won't.”
He said, “Well then, you go for it. But I don't want to hear none of them damn excuses from you that so many of these other people make about what didn't go right for them. Because nothing out here is promised to any of us. So be prepared to take the lumps just like you take the kisses.”
I went back to school at NC A&T and packed up my things. The coaches acted as if they would miss me. They were trying to convince me to stay. I blew them off just like they did me when I got injured, and I kept packing.
My teammates said what I thought they would say: “So you finally gon' go ahead and manage your boy, Loverboy? Good luck, D. I hope you and your boy go right to the top.”
It was all love, but they didn't really sound as if they would miss me on the football field. Even my teammates knew that I had a better opportunity of making it in the music world than in football.
The plan was for me to move up to Philadelphia with John and Tony, then John and I would look for our own apartment. I didn't want him around Tony all day with that smoking shit anyway.
The first assignment I had to deal with as a full-time manager was putting the album together and building an image for John. He may have been called Lover boy, but I didn't want him competing with the other young singers like Usher and Tevin Campbell. I wanted to make sure that we set ourselves apart. I wanted an audience that would take him seriously as a real crooner and not as some young wonder boy.
I said, “John, when you start getting these interviews for your music, I want you to emphasize how you always listened to the older musicians in your house and stuff, man, so that they don't start comparing you to too many young acts.” We were over at Tony's place.
Tony started laughing. He said, “Yeah, we want the older bitches. None of them young girls.”
I looked at Tony and said, “We want mature listeners, man. Bitches don't buy music, young women do.”
Tony looked back at me and smirked. “Okay, now you want to be the big-time manager. What happened to football, Mr. Deion Sanders? ”
I ignored him. “Whatever, man.”
John smiled and added his thoughts. He said, “I got all kinds of listeners, man. I don't like how they do that old-versus-young stuff. I'm trying to write music for everybody.”
Tony said, “Dig it. If the beat is bangin', the people'll feel it.”
I said, “Yeah, and then they start to analyze the words and the message.”
Tony said, “John has a good message. Shit, his music can speak for itself.”
I shook my head. I really needed to talk to John alone. I wasn't managing Tony. He was just getting in the damn way.
I asked John, “What kind of album covers have they been discussing?” So far, they were riding with the usual dramatic facial shots. You know, photographing John's face all extra large on the single and in the promotional packages.
John smiled at me and said, “Why, you got some ideas?”
I said, “Not yet, I just wanted to see what they had. For instance, with this release of May I, I would like to see you at a piano instead of with your face all up in the frame. That's how you started out, you know, as a real musician. We want to remind people of that. You write all your own songs.”
Tony said, “They'll know that by reading the credits on the releases.”
I finally got irritated with Tony. I said, “So what, man? I want them to know that before they even read the credits. And some people don't read 'em. I never paid attention to that shit until John started doing his thing.”
“Well that's you, ” Tony snapped back at me.
I calmed down and said, “Look, Tony, do you think that most of the people out here that listen to music are musicians themselves?”
Tony saw where I was going with it. He said, “In their own way, a lot of them are.”
I said, “That's bullshit, man, and you know it. A lot of people don't read them credits.”
John broke up laughing. He took my side and said, “D right though, man. If they see me at a piano, then they start thinking about me being able to play the piano. That's why people who can't play don't take pictures with the piano, because if someone asks them to play it, they'd be stuck.”
I said, “Yeah, they would mess around and embarrass themselves.”
John said, “But I would get up there and rock it for them like Herbie Hancock.”
“Yeah. You want to let the fans know that you can love 'em in all kinds of ways,” I added with a smile.
Even Tony chuckled.
So we took the idea to Old School Records and got the go-ahead from the art director, some sweet-feet guy named Jamie Bilford. I had nothing against gay people, but this brother was tall and all in your face with it. I guess John and Tony were used to him by then, but I had to get settled into it.
Jamie said, “Oh, I love that idea. That'll work. Now, you can play the piano, right, John?”
We all laughed again.
Tony said, “That's what we were talking about when we came up with the idea.”
I looked at Tony and mocked him. “When we came up with the idea, Tony?”
He frowned at me and said, “I ain't meant to say that, man. I meant to say when we were talking about it.”
I grinned and grunted, “Mmm hmm. I understand.”
Tony said, “Aw, man, I know you the big-time manager now. It took you long enough.”
Jamie asked, “So, Darin, do you have any ideas for the album cover?”
I said, “Not yet. I just figured that we need to do something different from that big-face stuff. Maybe we could put him in the middle of a crowd or something, with people grabbing at him.”
Tony frowned and said, “Naw, man. That makes it sound like they can easily get him.”
Jamie said, “And what's wrong with that? I'm sure that plenty of people would just love to have him.” He gave John a look and a smile. I felt kind of queasy about that for a second, but I smiled it off.
John shook his head and said, “Nah, man, I'm untouchable. I don't want them grabbing on me. I should be onstage, and they should be trying to get onstage with me.”
Tony said, “You mean how you have it in real life. They be trying to drag your ass off the stage.”
“Well, can you blame them?” Jamie asked us.
I said, “Well, what do you think about that idea, Jamie? You know, this whole untouchable thing?”
John seemed to like that idea. He smiled and said, “I am untouchable. When I get up on that stage . . . it's all mine.”
Jamie sized him up and said, “We may be able to work with that. We put you in the center of the frame, or maybe on a slight angle at the foot of the stage. And you're, like, leaning over with the mike to your mouth, almost like you're teasing them with your lips. And you're, like, in the middle of a performance with sweat running down your face and everything.”
He stopped and said, “Oh they love the sweat. You gotta have the sweat.”
I started shaking my head with a grin. Jamie was really getting into it.
He said, “And we can have you on a tall stage where they're reaching up their hands to get you, but you're not in their reach because you're untouchable.”
We all started laughing, liking the idea.
John confirmed it. He said, “I like that. But I'm not trying to be sweating. I want to be dry.”
Jamie asked him, “Well, you're not dry after the shows, are you?”
I wasn't sure how he meant that, but it didn't sound right to me.
Tony started laughing again, but John was still thinking about the album cover. I was still trying to figure Jamie out. Was he just joking, or was he serious? Did he have a crush on John?
John said, “Maybe I could go down on one knee or something, like I'm proposing.” Then he smiled and said, “But I'm not.”
Tony said, “Man, you better not do that.”
Jamie said, “Oh, now that's wicked! That would be such a tease! I like that, I like that!”
I thought about it myself and figured that it would attract more-mature women, who know what that bended-knee thing is all about.
I nodded my head and spoke up on it. “That sounds like a plan. We put him on a high stage, with a bunch of hands reaching up to get him, and he's on a bended knee in the middle of a love song.”
I got excited thinking about the connection to John's imagery. I said, “Yeah, that's exactly it! A Loverboy is always wanted, but hard to get. And that's what keeps the women interested. ‘I almost had him,’” I said, imitating a girl.
We were all laughing and having a ball with it.
Jamie shook his head and said, “Oh, you guys are killing me with this. This is gonna be a great shoot! Loverboy: The Album, and he's so untouchabl e.”
He nodded and said, “That would keep someone up at all hours of the night, plotting and things.”
I still felt queasy about him, but I couldn't help but to laugh at this guy.
When we left, I had to ask John and Tony about it.
I said, “How can Jamie work at a record label that has so many hard-core rappers and stuff? I can't see them rapper guys being that comfortable around him.”
Tony shook his head and said, “Don't get it confused, man. Jamie knows who to mess with and who to be straight with. He just likes fucking with John because he knows that he can do it.”
John said, “Yeah, but I'm not gay, so he can say what he wants to say. But he does his job, though, and that's why he's here.”
We were out in Oakland, California, at the end of the summer, hanging out with Raw and performing with the Executioners. I was making sure to get John ready for the interviews we had set up for him. The new single May I was just about to be shipped out to the radio stations, and it was prime time to start separating John from the other singers in his age group.
We met an older sister from the Oakland Journal early in the morning, and she asked John about his fast rise to stardom.
She said, “I heard that you just started singing last year.” She said it as if it was unbelievable.
John answered, “Yeah, but I've been practicing for years,” and smiled at her. He was being lighthearted about it. I figured that was a good way to be. Make the writers like you.
She said, “Are you prepared for this?” She sounded concerned.
John looked at her and asked, “What do you mean?” as if it was a trick question.
“Well, you just started singing last year, so I mean, who's behind your writing and producing team? Who discovered you?”
John said, “Discovered me?”
I don't think he was catching her line of questioning. Maybe it was too early in the morning for him after hanging out with Raw in Oakland. I told him to get to bed earlier.
I just sat back and smiled. The Oakland Journal was a small local newspaper, so I wasn't that concerned about it. I looked at it as a test run for when the bigger interviews came. This reporter was proving what I already knew. Many people would assume that John didn't know what he was doing and that he had a whole genius force behind him instead of him having any real talent. That's just how a lot of young singers were looked at in the nineties. That attitude from the media was exactly why I wanted to put John behind the piano for the release of May I.
John finally caught her drift and said, “I've been performing all year, you know, writing and producing my own stuff. I even cowrote and produced this song that I'm performing tonight with the Executioners, Weekend Shorty. We're gonna release that this winter for their next album.
“I mean, if you come out and listen to us tonight, that's all my sound,” he told her.
I passed her a new copy of the May I tape so she could listen again before she wrote her story.
She took the tape and nodded.
She said, “So you write and produce your own music?” She sounded amazed again.
John just looked at me. It was finally hitting him.
I looked back at him and just started laughing.
John said, “Basically, I've been writing and producing music for a while. I played four different instruments and led the band for three years in high school with a lot of my own music. Then I got a music scholarship to college. I was in the church choir since age six. And you know, I just never sang anything solo until last year. But I was always into music and around it.”
She smiled and said, “Well, so are the rest of us.”
If you asked me, the sister sounded a little jealous. I started wondering if she was some kind of a singer herself who hadn't gotten her break yet. I figured she was in her early thirties.
John said, “Well, that's just how it is. Some people blow up and some people don't.”
“And you're one of the lucky ones,” she said to him.
John smiled and said, “Nah, I'm one of the gifted ones.”
She said, “Is that right?”
John said, “Yup.”
I started laughing again. She couldn't break his confidence. John was so hard to rattle that it made it impossible to try. He would just smile at you and blow it off. So she decided to change her whole line of questioning.
“Okay, well, with this whole Loverboy thing, how did you manage to call yourself that?”
John shook his head and said, “I didn't. Everybody else did. So I just started responding to it.”
When the interview was over, John said, “She had a problem, man. You see how she kept trying to bring me down?”
I said, “Yeah, that's what I was telling you. You gotta get yourself ready for that.”
John had always been the behind-the-scenes, quiet type. He wasn't used to getting daggers thrown at him. But his newfound confidence wouldn't make things any easier on him. I decided to let him know about that.
I said, “And another thing, man, some of those comments you make are a little too much. Try to be a little more modest with your answers. You know, learn to play their game, man. Don't talk yourself up, just make them like you and they'll do that on their own.”
John said, “Not that woman.”
I laughed and said, “Yeah, you probably right about that one. She had it in for you.”
At the Oakland Theater, we had another large event. And although everyone was finding out who Loverboy was and what he looked like from his video, I told him that we needed to start announcing who he was before going out on the stage.
John didn't care one way or the other, but once the members of the Executioners heard that we wanted to announce him to the audience beforehand, some of them didn't like the idea too much.
“Wait a minute, man. This is our shit and we're letting John on tour with us to get him ready for his album. But he don't need no pre announcement. He gets announced after the song.”
Luckily, the marketing director, Matt Duggins, was out there in Oakland with us to focus the argument.
He said, “Guys, we're all in this thing together. Let's show a little family love. I mean, this Weekend Shorty song is gonna be a hit, right? We all agree to that.”
“Yeah, but this is still our tour, and when we agreed to let John on, he knew he wasn't getting no special shit.”
All of the members of the Executioners didn't feel sour about it. They had even changed the name of the song because of John's chorus, but they didn't speak up on John's behalf. So we went back to the way they had it with John being a surprise guest.
Tony stopped me that night and said, “Well, Mr. Manager, welcome to the tour world. Ma-fuckas ain't trying to give up their stage like that. Are you crazy?! You better think before you start saying shit like that, young boah.”
Tony was right for a change. I'd got a little ahead of myself. I guess I was trying too hard to be a good manager. But John just laughed at it.
He said, “They already think that I'm taking all of the best girls. They get a lot of them roughlike women, but I get the sweet ones.”
I wanted to slow John down a bit with the screwing on tour too, but after the drama with the name announcement thing, I wasn't too popular with the rest of the acts on tour, so I decided to just go along with the ride for a while.
Next up was Dallas and Houston, Texas, and then we were set to go back to Philly to finish producing John's album for October.