The concept personal management gained traction during the 1960s British "Beat Boom," where a new breed of entrepreneurs--Brian Epstein (The Beatles), Michael Jeffrey (Jimi Hendrix Experience), Andrew Loog Oldham (Rolling Stones) and Robert Stigwood (Bee Gees, Cream)--seized the initiative to build multimillion-dollar publishing and promotional empires, fueled by their respective groups' profits. American counterparts like Albert Grossman--a former folk club owner who helped Bob Dylan become one of the top-grossing concert attractions--quickly copied and refined the model, often using music profits to cross over into TV and film production, as Lou Adler did, for example. The 1970s and 1980s saw managers evolve into CEOs of multimillion-dollar companies with ever-larger client rosters and media holdings. This process accelerated during the 1990s, as mega-mergers between large media companies--such as the 1990 merger of TIme Inc., and Warner Bros.--became increasingly common, concentrating power among a well-connected handful of major players.
Managers must fulfill a variety of functions, not least being the oversight of an artist's finances--a task that requires some basic knowledge of accounting, particularly the tricks that studios and record labels have long notoriously employed to prevent paying out more royalties than deemed necessary to keep the talent happy. Additionally, managers are often called upon to coordinate marketing and promotional strategies with their acts, often a year or two ahead of time--when they're not actively advising clients about their images. In short, anyone wishing to take on the managerial mantle must reconcile themselves to working lengthier days, often for little or no money at the beginning, until the first real money starts coming in. Personal taste often becomes the last criterion in deciding whether to handle an act--as Tony Gordon proved in transitioning from English Oi! punk bands (Angelic Upstarts) to quintessential electropop stylings (Culture Club, Boy George).
For any aspiring actor, musician orother creative talent, style and philosophy are the most important guides in deciding whether to bring someone aboard--as Scott Weiland, the iconic singer for 1990s grunge band Stone Temple Pilots signaled by retaining a more mainstream overseer in Arnold Stiefel, who handles the careers of Rod Stewart and Toni Braxton. Some managers take an active involvement in their artists' careers--as Bill Aucoin did, for example, in helping oversee the choreography, presentation and image of New York's hard rock shockers, Kiss, for example. Others cultivate a mystique by keeping their heads down, and rarely speaking to the press, except when major features are involved--such as Dire Straits's Ed Bicknell, for example. In still other cases, the manager becomes little more than a well-paid messenger for a high-priced client, like Bob Dylan. No matter which scenario prevails, though, it's the talent's responsibility to understand the kind of person they imagine overseeing their career.
A manager's track record is not the only issue worth considering when considering someone with a big name and reputation. In many cases, the manager's personality may be enough to force a confrontation that will either break up the act, or force them to reconsider their working relationship. The respective machinations of Malcolm McLaren and Bernard Rhodes behind the Sex Pistols and the Clash, respectively--born, apparently, out of a desire to record their own material, and impose their own artistic vision--are often cited as cautionary tales for aspiring musicians to consider. And bigger is not necessarily better, as Iggy & The Stooges discovered in signing with David Bowie's manager, Tony DeFries--who lavished attention on the latter, self-described "Thin White Duke," while keeping his peers under wraps, and off the same touring circuit.
Many artist-managerial relationships are fractious and complicated, because the level of advice or hands-on assistance may exceed what the artist wants to accept--particularly in the rock 'n' roll field, where ego clashes and ill-defined roles are common. In general, however, successful managers wield their swords with less dramatic results than the public might believe--and, by using a combination of psychology and ability to read people, convince the act to take a career-defining step that is clearly n their own best interest. The job can also be a dauntingly insecure proposition. Many a street-level manager has done the grunt work of helping an act become successful, only to see someone else step into the picture, as Joe Moss discovered when the Smiths shed him in 1983, after experiencing their first wave of British popularity--forcing the band members to handle many of the most mundane tasks themselves, such as renting the vans they used to transport them on tour.