Peter Rudge: Former Manager Of The Who, Rolling Stones & More Moves On To His Next Adventure

The first band to stiff fledgling college booker Peter Rudge was The Who. Within five years, he was managing them. 

After The Who canceled a show Rudge had booked at The Maypole, a historic Cambridge pub (and for which Rudge had forked over a £400 fee), the brash college student confronted managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp, who owned Track Records. Instead of getting a refund, Rudge became an employee of the UK label, tiding him over financially on £20 a week until he finished college and could take his civil service exam.

Lambert and Stamp were in the process of recording a new artist from the U.S. named Jimi Hendrix. In 1968, they sent Rudge to Hendrix’s hometown of Seattle, and Rudge never did take that civil service exam. He did, however, eventually become The Who’s tour manager – essentially, the equivalent of an artist manager in those days.

Rudge also worked with Marc Bolan of T. Rex fame, and later managed The Rolling Stones, with whom he remained through most of the 1970s. Over the years, Rudge also managed Lynyrd Skynyrd, Duran Duran, Madness and, in the longest relationship of his career, James – a British band he helmed for some 35 years.

After 55 years, Rudge is hanging up his manager’s hat and pursuing new music-related endeavors, including a documentary about the explosive growth of the modern-day concert business, focused on legendary agent Frank Barsalona and Premier Talent, the first agency to focus on rock performers – and, not coincidentally, The Who.

Pollstar: It sounds like The Who gave you your first hard lesson in the music business?

Peter Rudge: I applied to a couple of companies, attempting to get bands up to Cambridge, and one of them was Track Records. I got two bands, one was The Who, and they canceled on me. You know how it is: you’re 21, you have no fear. You have no reference points. I kind of stormed down there and said, “What the heck? What’s going on? The Who canceled on me? I paid them! It was 400 pounds!” And they said, “Keith Moon is sick. He can’t do it.” And I look at a wall chart behind them and it says, on the day of The Maypole show, it’s a video for “Dogs.” They blew me off to shoot a video!

Eventually, you not only became The Who’s manager but helped guide them to Frank Barsalona and Premier Talent to help them break in the States.

The Who’s “Tommy” show was the first live show where I really got it, what I felt live music was all about, and it was just magnificent. And I wanted to go to America because The Who was starting to make some noise there. We’ve got this album, and I would take it over to Decca, deliver it to them, and see William Morris and the other big agencies. There was this young guy at Premier Talent but they didn’t have a TV department, or any other department, and the thinking was we needed a bigger agency. I don’t remember which agencies I saw.

But I went over there and met with some agencies. The first lunch I ever had, they wined and dined me. I’ve never been the brightest guy, but I thought these guys are just bullshit, this is just a script. It was just so obvious. I thought, maybe I should go and see this guy Barsalona and at least talk to him.

I got a meeting with Frank, I think for 2 p.m. I’m still sitting there waiting at 5 p.m., and I haven’t seen Frank. Eventually he comes in, and I get to see him. I left him the next morning at 6 a.m. We sat in his office until 10 p.m. Then we went down to Little Italy to one of his favorite restaurants — Umberto’s, I think — then back to his apartment on West 57th Street. And he had this one room, which is all red, white and blue, just very English. And I sat there mesmerized by the guy. I called back to Lambert and I said, “You know, it’s a no brainer. Barsalona just gets it. He’s one of us.”

Did you have any real mentors in that early stage of the live touring business, or was it learn as you go?

Frank Barsalona became one of the two great mentors in my life. Him, and Kit Lambert — a genius, a flawed genius, but he always taught me that this is an industry of bold strokes. The great artists that I’ve worked with get that. Mick Jagger gets it; he’s really bold, really ambitious. Frank made me understand the value of live. And I think the success of the live industry now is testament to his belief in that, his understanding of it, and his vision for it.

Look at the great bands who have endured, the great live legends, whether it’s the Stones,  Springsteen, U2. [Premier Talent] hired visionary women, too, because Frank had a vision in terms of sexual equality and his top people were Barbara Skydel and Jane Geraghty. I got a great education. 

What did you learn about the “value of live” as Barsalona envisioned it?

I’ve always said when I saw The Who the first time, I bought in for life. They had me. I can forgive them for a bad record. I can forgive them for a shitty single. I don’t care if they say something that I don’t really agree with, or I don’t like the publicity photo, because all that’s manufactured, all that is cosmetic, all of it. A live concert is live. It’s in real time. It’s never repeated.

I’ve always looked at every artist that I’ve managed and thought, “Can they deliver this live?” If a record fails, if this doesn’t go right, you’ve got live and with that you control the narrative. There are things you can’t control, but you can control that. It’s a one-on-one relationship with your fans and, if you respect that fan’s needs, that fan stays loyal to you. 

What are the hallmarks of a great manager?

I always have said that the greatest gift a manager can give an artist is honesty and objectivity. Now, that can sometimes be interpreted as a lack of belief. So if I say to an artist, “I don’t think that’s the single,” or “I think that’s really not the right move,” it’s not that I don’t like your music. I don’t think you’re achieving what you’re capable of.

You employ me to be your radar. I look at all the incoming. People say things to me that they’ll never say to you. My job is to translate that in a manageable fashion for you to understand what the label wants because they have to market and monetize it. And I have to get the label to understand that you have a musical vision that you don’t want to compromise. You are constantly Henry Kissinger as a manager. You really are that one guy who touches on every aspect of an artist’s career. And I think that’s why management has become such a force now. The old-time managers are my heroes. Andrew Oldham, Brian Epstein, Kit Lambert, Chris Stamp – they did that.

You’ve had a long and historic career, yourself. What do you take away from it?

I look back now because, at the end of it, I start to focus and look back and, God, I can’t believe it. Everything, like the things that occurred in the ’70s, it seems to me like it was yesterday. Yes, It’s it’s bizarre, but I have no sense of time. It’s crazy. I just didn’t know where it went. I know it’s a cliche, but it’s unbelievable.

You’ve had some 35 years working, happily, with James. Why step away?

In live, we were the ones that no one cared about; no one quite understood it, and we were allowed to make up the rules. In my 55 years in the business, I’ve known, in the UK, probably 25 managing directors of Columbia Records. I’ve worked with one promoter, Simon Moran (of SJM Concerts), and I think that speaks volumes. The contract was a handshake; it still is. And I love that about live. But I feel it’s all changing.

One of the reasons that I decided that it’s probably time for me to gracefully tiptoe stage left is because I believe now we’re consumed with minutiae, and social media feeds and just content for content’s sake. And I think that’s diminished the aura of the artist. We’re all fed up with them before they have a hit. We know what they have for breakfast. We know that we are just exhausted with them. And now, because we’ve become something that drives tabloid media and things of that nature, that’s even more the case.

It’s all changing because, unfortunately, our business has become too respectable, too profitable. Grownups are now getting into it. I just don’t enjoy the culture anymore. And it’s really tough. But what I still love is walking in and seeing a great band on stage, seeing great production. Even with James, on this last tour we introduced AI imaging, three-dimensional stuff coming out of screens. And, you know, it’s become more and more immersive and interactive. And it’s thrilling to me – I still love it.