Editor’s Note: Ron Fair provided this guest post, the second installment of his column for American Songwriter.
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You learn by failing.
When my Father passed away, I barged into his office and rummaged through his personal things. He liked to keep “quotations” or “sayings” and had 30-or-40 Post-its all over the place with hand-written words-of-wisdom, phrases to remember, reflections, and wishful thoughts. Lying on top of a pack-rat stack was a faded photocopy of a document called “Rules for Life” …from a Chinese philosopher. I picked it up. The first rule was:
“Sometimes not getting what you want… can lead to a wonderful and unintended outcome.”
With that in mind, we shall begin episode two.
In 1981, at age 26, I (Ron Fair) was living in squalor in a 10-by-10 log cabin behind Du-Pars in North Hollywood, trying to be a jazz-fusion pianist, producing voice-overs for May Company and song demos on an 8-track for United Artists Publishing. I landed my first A&R position that spring – Talent Manager – West Coast – Contemporary Music – RCA Records. My title did not yet contain those two letters that would unlock my future – “A” and “R.” I proudly used a rubber hand-stamp with red ink, with the famous RCA dog – “Nipper” – on all my “official” correspondence if only to reinforce my legitimacy as a major-label “industry executive” and therefore … forcefully render personal (and sometimes random) opinions of someone else’s music and artistic potential.
A Back-Office-Rubber-Stamping Jiffy Bag Opener A.K.A a Dream Maker
Determined to be simpático and truly “responsive” to all recording artists, I would stay at the office late into the night and listen to every damn cassette that came through the mail or in the front door. As the new kid in the A&R department, I was responsible for managing that anthill-purgatory of no-man’s land—the “unsolicited demos.” “Unsolicited” was a black-mark to begin with—it meant that no manager, attorney, producer, engineer, agent, or hairdresser was attached, and certainly, RCA did not “ask” to hear it. The unsolicited was a never-ending wave of hundreds-if-not-thousands of demo cassettes sent to RCA in the hopes of “being discovered” by … someone… something, anything—somehow. The vast majority were simply amateur attempts, sometimes with car noises, blenders in the kitchen, babies crying, and dogs barking in the background. It was up to me to decide how to handle box after box of Jiffy bags stuffed with a cassette and a crumpled lyric sheet, along with someone’s hopes and dreams.
Other A&R people would open the padded “Jiffy” bag, toss in a crudely photo-copied form-letter that said things like “your music does not fit our current needs” or “our artist roster is full” or other demeaning forms of horse-shit rejection intended to cut-off-at-the-knee that artist or songwriter and their precious dream of stardom. Determined to get use of my little red rubber stamp with Nipper next to my name, I decided to respond only with individual hand-written notes. (Sidebar: RCA paid for the return postage on EVERY returned Jiffy bag. Eventually, it was known—“no unsolicited material will be accepted.”)
Nicest Possible Hell No
Hour after hour, note after note, little Nipper red rubber stamp-stamp-stamp, I would write things like: “thanks for sending your music, it’s just not the right fit for RCA … but good luck !” …..and occasionally I might comment….“although I like the C-minor 7th suspension chord in the chorus!” just to prove that I had listened. The Jiffy bags had that little pull-tab to open ‘em up even faster. I had an Aiwa cassette deck – and when “play” and “fast-forward” were pressed at the same time, the machine would scroll up to the next song… so it was possible to hear a verse, a chorus, and then think “no fucking way” and scroll forward, or just rip it out of the machine, get the rubber stamp, and write another personal note saying “thanks but no thanks” in the nicest possible musician-ethos-friendly way one can say “Hell no.” Pull tab, play song, scroll forward, write pass letter, rubber stamp the dog, repeat.
Until:
Something else happened. First song: arena rock anthem. Smashing hook. Soaring vocals. Searing lead guitar. Second song: Lift-off! Lights flashing! Three-part harmony! A touch of John Lennon, a smidge of McCartney – a little Queen on top … song after song… what the f—. GOLD had been struck. Fast forward… to… a cold meeting – who the hell could have possibly submitted THIS as an unsolicited demo tape?
An over-six-foot-tall rock’n’roll adonis in black leather pants walks into my little shit-hole-back-of-the-hall A&R office at RCA in Hollywood. The stature, the poise, the confidence, the humor, the aura, and magnetism of a real rock star standing in front of me – enter TREVOR RABIN.
Enter Trevor Rabin
Trevor was the self-producer, songwriter, guitarist, singer, force-of-nature – boom – splat – in my little office. Then came his fascinating back-story. Biggest rock band in history in his home country of South Africa. (Do your own deep dive: RABBITT – https://rabbittband.wordpress.com ) Trevor Rabin moved his family to the San Fernando Valley to “make it in America” and because of me, the eager-beaver-Jimmy-Olsen of A&R-Ron Fair opened that particular jiffy bag – there it was. Stardom within my reach. The A&R dream – to discover, then to direct, then to deliver – not only a hit record … but a ticket-selling … rock star.
…..Three more songs into that same demo… Crazy cowbells – outer space funk synth – then the riff as famous as Beethoven’s 5th – on stereophonic distorto guitars – the unforgettable intro to the song …. “OWNER OF A LONELY HEART.” A one-in-a-million unique sound, unique structure, a cross between “Another One Bites The Dust” and Rick James and Rogers and Hammerstein. No song ever sounded like “Owner of a Lonely Heart” and its incredible little guitar-arpeggio-answer, and lyric commentary “much better than a” interjected in the spaces. I intuitively just knew that “Owner” would be the song that would fulfill my first mission as an A&R guy. I was on my way – I had stumbled upon and identified a rocket-to-the-moon.
I asked Trevor, “Hey, can I edit the demo?” He was gracious and said – “Let’s see!” So I made a tape copy onto my 15 ips Technics reel-to-reel and took my white crayon, edit-all block, and single-edge razor to the task.
“Owner of a Lonely Heart” Paydirt
I removed some sections and a few extra bars. It was ready. I made an urgent appointment with my boss – the West Coast Vice President of A&R – feverishly, forcefully advocating that TREVOR RABIN become the first artist I would ever sign.
WORLD PREMIERE– Trevor Rabin’s original home demo of “Owner of a Lonely Heart” – never before available anywhere!
The meeting went …. GREAT. The look, the songs, the back-story, the young Trevor beaming – the energy in the room… and then the clincher – those five notes – the main theme of “Owner of a Lonely Heart” – and boom – the answer was…. YES !!!! (In more ways than one.)
Enter lawyers. Business affairs. Contracts. Drafts. Inter-office memos and… Me, the neophyte rookie with no juice, no insight, no ability to read the room, no real relationships, no experience. Just a loud-mouth startup A&R kid with dreams of a Grammy and a one-digit Billboard chart position next to my artist’s name. Mic Drop. I was not the only one to make the “discovery” of this transplanted South African genius.
YES! No! YES!
So did an all-important, musically superior mega successful superstar band from England. That band happened to be: YES. Yes, YES had also heard “Owner of a Lonely Heart” and then came their own offer – (This must have been their pitch)…..something-to-the-tune-of
“Hey Trev! F— those losers at RCA, come join the band YES, come over here, sing, play, we will do your songs, we will tour, we will conquer the world, here’s a rare vintage Stratocaster… meet us in London at the Virgin Penthouse – we love ya!”
Trevor began to feel that joining YES would be a faster, better, safer pathway to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I was just this little shit A&R guy in a shit office at the end of the hall working at a second-tier-seen-better-times label – RCA. (Then known as the “record cemetery of America.”) Facing failure (obliteration, really), I asked for a meeting with the high-powered veteran manager of YES. I showed up with what I had… the courage of ignorance.
So, picture this scene: The young, stupid, loud me, facing one of the biggest rock managers of all time. I sat across from his massive antique-rock-star-manager desk. He had one of those guest chairs that sinks lower and lower. I am Ant-Man, looking up at the giant big-time heavyweight, literally, on my knees. (Let’s just say) it was a very fast shit-show. I suggested the nuclear option: Trevor would join YES, bringing “Owner of A Lonely Heart” to them; and later down the road, RCA would have the rights to Trevor’s “Solo Deal.” I thought this was a better-than-nothing compromise. Hurry back down Sunset Boulevard from West Hollywood to “regular” depressed Hollywood – in my white Toyota convertible.
Yes, It was Over
Three words. “NO F—ING WAY.” Then six more words. “SOLO DEAL WITH RCA or… NOTHING !” My life flashes before me. No new car. No new suit. No seat at the Grammys. Flames all around. The smell of burning plastic as the RCA dog melts into a blob. I tried to convince RCA – “this will be great… Trevor will be established, and when he does go solo… the audience will know and love him…. Blah..blah…f—ing blah.” I was toast.
I met with Trevor – one last time. I begged him to see that this older established band would inhale his youth, subsume his ideas, and use his music for themselves … only to prolong Trevor’s own path to success as a stand-alone rock star. But YES was just too convincing. Trevor joining YES was …just too tantalizing.
And so….it was over.
Then another failed attempt. Motley Crue. Nope – they signed with David Geffen. Yeah, I was backstage at the sold-out Santa Monica Civic with Motley when they had the whole front window of Licorice Pizza and a line two times around the block – but… at RCA – the “record cemetery of America” … I could not compete.
I retreated to the back-of-the-hall. Back to the Jiffy bags. Back to pulling all the little tabs. Writing the handwritten “sorry…but…”, rubber stamping the little RCA dog over and over. I flew coach to New York to drink martinis with unknown songwriters and scout unsigned bands. It was a bleak late November. Landed around midnight. Endless wait at JFK baggage claim. More waiting for a yellow cab. Rain – forgot umbrella. Dark, wet streets of Queens, dodging the interstate on questionable shortcuts to the Mayflower Hotel. The much-subdued-down-on-his-luck Ron Fair in the back of the cab. The radio … barely….on. Then…. those five damn notes. The intro of “Owner of Lonely Heart.” “TURN IT UP TURN IT UP” …and there it was. My song… on the radio. Only now, it’s by YES. It’s produced (brilliantly) by Trevor Horn. Oh – they took out a B-section. Oh – they added a 40s big-band brass riff. Oh – they got their money’s worth from the Fairlight Synth. Some different lyrics. And there it was – in all its smash-hit glory – on the radio… the song I discovered in a Jiffy bag in the box of unsolicited cassettes one year prior.
Ron Fair: Validated
I started to cry- my artist stolen out from under me. It was on the radio. But I had done the work. I had identified the hit – so early in its gestation … yet, it … still … validated … me. My judgement. My song. My guy. My ability to “pick a winner.” So who cares if I’m not in the press shot in Billboard – I could justify. I could rationalize. I could compartmentalize. I had lost … but I won. I was … RIGHT.
The rules of life! “Sometimes not getting what you want … can lead to a wonderful and unintended outcome.”
I found confidence. I found some humility. I learned to respect the process and faced my own inexperience with even more hunger for success. I needed to learn more … how to conduct the business of A&R – how to build stronger and deeper relationships – so losing such a mighty oak … could never happen to me again.
(But it did.)
John Legend,
Muni Long,
Jellyroll.
Epilogue: Trevor Rabin went on to a glorious career in YES, touring the world, becoming a celebrated Film Music Composer, and continues to record visceral and beautiful music. Please check out his latest album.
RF
Nashville May 2025
Look for the autobiography of Ron Fair coming soon.
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Ron Fair – the Attic YouTube channel
Photo courtesy of Ron Fair
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