I can remember it like it was yesterday.
There was me and my two pals sitting on the front porch of my house in Seattle in 1992. Bruce Springsteen had just released two new records — Human Touch and Lucky Town — and we were listening to them on the porch that hot spring afternoon over a few beers. The three of us agreed that neither of them were very good, even though we were hardcore fans.
Then the phone call came.
The CD player was shut off, and I told my two friends Greg and Brett to get lost for a minute while I took the call that was about to change my life. Because the guy on the other end of the line was Rick Rubin, and he was about to offer me a job with his label, Def American Recordings. I'll never forget that phone call for as long as I live.
Six months earlier, I had been unceremoniously fired from my position as National Retail Promotions Director for Nastymix Records, a Seattle based independent record label where I had, with considerable pride, helped build the career of Seattle rapper Sir Mix-A-Lot from the ground up, particularly with the independent retail record stores that paved the way for Mix's eventual mainstream success.
Things had been really great there for about three years — it was a dizzying ride with platinum album sales and the like — but they had since gone terribly wrong. But that's another story, left for another article that one day I hope to grow the balls to write.
Anyway, back to Rick's phone call. Rick Rubin was about to offer me a job.
Two weeks earlier, I had been flown to Los Angeles to meet with the man who was in many ways an idol of mine. We had met briefly once before, in 1986, when he was the Beastie Boys' "DJ Double R," and they were the opening act for Madonna.
At that time, I was assigned to interview the Beastie Boys for Seattle's Rocket Magazine, and they had just been booed off the stage at Seattle's Paramount Theatre — it must have been something about that whole "Kings of the Paramount" thing that rubbed the Seattle crowd the wrong way. I should add that this was roughly six months before the Beasties changed everything about music with the Rick Rubin produced album Licensed To Ill.
Article comments
1 - Donald Gibson
If the result of our lives is that we've never made any crucial mistakes or caused some underlying regrets, then we've got nothing to learn from and even less to teach others about what it means to really live.
This is a terrific read, Glen, and I'm proud not only to call you my mentor, but my friend as well. I've taken great insight and instruction from you on my own writing, which I would never have received if not for the perspective you bring to what you write.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some living to do...
2 - Glen Boyd
Thanks a lot Donald and right back 'atcha. This was a really difficult article for me to write, but one I've needed to get off my chest for about 15 years now. I have to admit that it felt quite good doing it too.
When I sat down and started to read the book about Rubin (review forthcoming), it all came flooding back and I recognized immediately how difficult it was going to be to write an objective review while divorcing myself from my personal involvement as someone who was actually there.
The only solution for me was to write a separate article where I could get all the personal stuff out of the way first. As a result, I'm now a lot more confident that my review of the book wont be colored in any way by any of those things.
Anyway, thanks for the comment, and the compliments.
-Glen
3 - tink
If I'd only known you back then, I'd have passed along a piece of advice that helped me numerous times during my career behind the scenes. Act like you know what you are doing, especially if you don't. Most people do not question what they perceive as authority.
Great work, great insight.
Thanks for the view inside.