The ritual of encounter is framed at the beginning and at the end with blessing. Regularly throughout conversation in Gaelic, there is explicit recognition that the divine is present in others. This presence is also recognized and embodied in old sayings such as, “the hand of the stranger is the hand of God.” The stranger does not come accidentally; he brings a particular gift and illumination.1
Music has always been everything to me. It has gifted me with an amazing world filled with exceptional human beings I’ve had the honor and privilege to know, and with whom I’ve remained friends to this day.
To get there, I was taught by a remarkable woman—my mom, Blanche. She taught me how to be independent, self-reliant, and thoughtful. Through her guidance, I grew into someone who is not afraid to be truthful about who I am.
In 1980, entrepreneur and risk-taker Jerry Brandt hired me to assist him at The Ritz nightclub in New York City. He became my mentor, and not only did he teach me the art of the music business—he fueled my passion to be in it—and stay in it.
Three years later, in 1983, through the generous spirit of Bob Krasnow, chairman of Elektra Records, I was hired at the company, and not only was I able to become an important part of the music business and make major decisions—such as signing Metallica and re-introducing the legendary Nina Simone to the music world—Bob gave me room to grow and mature and become the kind of executive I knew I could be.
I also learned about the kind of person I wanted to be outside of music. That person has tried to be strong and authentic. In telling you this story about my life, I hope to show that it is okay to be truthful about who you are. I am gay and have been able to help extraordinary artists succeed; I have survived AIDS, and have been sober for twelve years. I have also published books of beautiful men that I have photographed and I passionately collect photography and art.
I knew from a very early age that I was gay, and it has defined my life in many marvelous ways. It has also brought surprising intolerance, which I have never let affect my life decisions. One of the first places I sensed this intolerance was in the world of heavy metal music, which was the focus of my work as a record executive.
Being gay in the world of heavy metal was never, ever heard of in the seventies and eighties. We loved Freddie Mercury of Queen, but he never came out of the closet. Only in recent years has Rob Halford, from Judas Priest, come out and, thank God, that hasn’t hurt his career at all. “[I]sn’t it great that in this day and age that we can think, ‘[Y]eah, we know Rob’s gay. We love Judas Priest. Who gives a fuck?’”2
The openly gay Alago represented a breath of fresh air on the sometimes casually homophobic world of metal. ”My sexuality was never a problem with any artist I ever worked with,” he explains. “When somebody is honest, truthful, and an open book, that helps. I was always myself. And that breaks down so many barriers. There’s no need to talk about sexuality, when all we really want to talk about is music.”3
Make no mistake though, the journey I have embarked on has been demanding and overwhelming. I have had to battle AIDS and serious drug and alcohol addiction. Thankfully, I survived those battles, am here to talk about it, and have come to a greater sense of peace and joy about my place in this world.
Many wonderful things have happened along the way, and many unfortunate things as well. Yet, in the end, that’s the gift, isn’t it? The more challenging the road traveled, the greater the reward.
As you will see.
For me, prayer is an aspiration of the heart, it is a simple glance directed to heaven, it is a cry of gratitude and love in the midst of trial as well as joy; finally it is something great, supernatural, which expands my soul and unites me to Jesus.
—St. Thérèse de Lisieux