Fred Taylor - What, and Give Up Showbiz?: Six Decades in the Music Business

A story like this doesnt happen overnight. I didnt think that it would take so long to write a book, but working with Richard Vacca, a wonderful writer and relentless researcher, we accomplished it. Hes the guy who made this project go.

Bob Kelly, Irene Chang, and Grace Kelly formed the core of an incredible support network. They worked on the things that mean a lot to me, like the Fred Taylor Scholarship Fund benefit concertsand they throw a pretty good birthday party too.

Laura Fillmore at Open Book Systems, my literary agent, made the match with the Globe Pequot Press. She believed in this showbiz saga, and worked tirelessly to improve and promote it.

Roger Brown, president of the Berklee College of Music, did more than just write a few words at the beginning of the book. He believed in this story too, and he honored it, and me, by creating the Fred Taylor Scholarship at that prestigious institution. Talk about a legacy to be proud of!

Hege Leyasmeyer has been my office manager and keeper of the calendar through 23 years and 5 office moves, and I simply could not have managed the whole shebang without her invaluable assistance. She has become my goto and be-all person.

Finally, I would like to thank my parents, who always supported me through all my endeavors.

Ive had a long life and long career. Countless people have inspired, helped, and counseled me, and I cant possibly name them all. But I thank every one of you, from the bottom of my heart. Its been a great ride. Thanks for sharing it.

On March 11, 2015, Roger Brown, president of the Berklee College of Music, presented me with their first George Wein Impresario Award. Berklee created the award to recognize individuals who bring music to life through their dedication to discovering, mentoring, presenting, and promoting creative musicians and their music. That is exactly what I had been doing for 55 years. Wein, the founder of the Newport Jazz and Folk Festivals, made the presentation himself at Scullers Jazz Club in Boston, where Id been the entertainment director for 25 years.

My name is Fred Taylor. Usually youd see me backstage, but on this night I could sit in the front row and take it all in. And I let my mind wander a bit. Fifty-five years... countless names and faces and sounds. Dave Brubeck playing Over the Rainbow at Storyville. The Count Basie Orchestra, my favorite big band, wailing on Basies 57th birthday. Bob Dylan striding onstage at Symphony Hall. Billy Joels concert by flashlight at Pauls Mall. The Miles Davis comeback concerts at Kix. Cannonball and Mingus and Ahmad Jamal at the Jazz Workshop. Diana Ross conquering Boston from the stage of the Music Hall. Lily Tomlins very special matinee for kids at Pauls Mall. George Shearing melting hearts with You Must Believe in Spring at Scullers. Sonny Rollins playing In a Sentimental Mood as an encore at Tanglewood. And there were more, many more: Duke Ellington. The Pointer Sisters. Bob Marley. Professor Irwin Corey. Flip Wilson. Nancy Wilson. Bruce Springsteen. Bobby Short. Diana Krall. Chris Botti. Marian McPartland. Aerosmith. George Benson. Esperanza Spalding. Its a list of musicians and singers and comedians that goes on and on, and I can tell you how I brought every one to Boston. Its what I do. And on this night, Berklee called it an award-winning performance.

Im proud of this impresario award. Its both recognition for a job done long and well, and the entrepreneurs equivalent of a Purple Heart for the battering Ive taken along the way. Its true that Ive met great people, presented many musical giants, and accomplished some wonderful things. But Ive also been threatened, tear-gassed at one of my own events, fired as artistic director of my own festival, and ruined financially more than once. Ive battled union officials, shady promoters, and the tax man. Ive had my share of nerve-wracking days. And nights.

Well, you might ask, if the going has been so rough, why not find something else to do? What? Ill answer, and give up showbiz? And that brings me to the story behind the title of this book.

Theres an old industry joke that goes like this. A man works at the circus cleaning up after the elephants. All he does, week after week, year after year, is clean up elephant dung. He complains about his lot bitterly. He hates the job! One of his coworkers asks, If you dont like it, why dont you just quit? And our circus man, incredulous, replies: What, and give up showbiz?

Just like that circus man, showbiz has me in a headlock. I could never give it up, no matter how bad it gets. Its not that I havent considered it. Shows fall apart, money runs out, the headliner is a no-show. Every day something happens that has me saying, Okay, thats it, Im going to look for a real job. But somehow Ive always kept going. Its the magic of showbiz!

The music business turned out to be my dream job, but I didnt know it until I started to live it. Its not like Im the star, because my world is behind the scenes. Thats not where the glamour is, and as far as I know, theres never been a curtain call for the guy who booked the band. It can be frustrating, unpredictable, and financially precarious. But all thats forgotten at showtime. I couldnt possibly give this up.

That night at Scullers, George talked about impresarios and what it means to be one, and if anybody knows, its George Wein. The original impresarios were Italians producing operas, and to this day, to be an impresario is to make a living in the music business. An impresario is part entrepreneur, part producer, part quartermaster, part talent scout, and part banker. Ive worn all those hats. As George said, an impresario lays his own money on the line. You take a risk in the hope of turning a profit. Sometimes you succeed. Sometimes you dont. And thats another thing that George and I have in common: weve had times when we didnt succeed. Sometimes, to be an impresario is to fall on your face. Theres nothing to do then except get back up and start working on the next show. Itll be a winner for sure!

But I wasnt thinking about failure in March 2015, when it was my night, in my club, surrounded by people Id known for years. And from that vantage point, lets start our look back.

I was born in Boston on June 8, 1929, the only child of Frank and Ann Taylor. I cant say for sure if my music and humor genes came from my mom or my dad.

My fathers father, Meyer, came from Russia, and the name Taylor is something of a family mystery. Meyer wasnt Taylor when he arrived on Ellis Island, but he was when he left it. Nobody alive today knows the story. He was a Jew, and perhaps he knew that antisemitism was strong in those days and wanted a name that would help him blend in. He wouldnt have been the first to do so.

He worked hard. He started a produce business, with a stall at Bostons Faneuil Hall market, and my dad worked with him, up at four in the morning and at the market before dawn. My dad came from that background of hard physical work, and he wanted something better for me, something that would keep me from a life of backbreaking manual labor. Sending me to college was very important to him.

My dad was a quiet man, while my mother, Ann Feinstone, was more outgoing. She attended the Girls Latin School (its called the Boston Latin Academy today), which was a college preparatory school, and she was the reader in the family. She was the force in the marriage, and she always struck me as a very practical person, what we used to call a homemaker. She was very supportive and didnt push. There were none of the when are you gonna get married kinds of questions, for which I was grateful.

Unfortunately, I seem to have acquired my pack-rat tendencies from mom. She saved