I went to work for Sire because I was crazy about the alternative rock the label was famous for— from the Ramones, Richard Hell, the Dead Boys and Talking Heads to Depeche Mode, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Smiths… But Seymour also signed some stuff that wasn’t alternative rock— Madonna, k.d. lang, Seal, Ice-T, Ofra Haza, Lil’ Jimmy Scott, Michael Davidson, Nick Kamen, Corey Hart… and Tommy Page. I had to adapt and some artists were easier to adapt to that others. See that photo up top? The star in the center is Tommy Page. That’s me at my fattest on the right. And on the left... that’s Ray Anderson. I guess this little story is going to be more about Ray than about Tommy per se.
In fact, let me start with Ray, who I knew long before I ever went to work for Sire and when Tommy still wasn’t old enough to be wearing long pants. CBS Records had more or less bought most of my indie label and my records were being promoted— or not promoted— by Columbia Records. Ray Anderson was the head of promotion. He was totally not promoting my records. Those records were my bands' whole lives. It meant a lot to them and a lot to me— really a lot.
The president of Columbia, Al Teller, was a smart guy with vision. I made the deal with him. Unfortunately, his senior staff didn’t see the deal the way he did. Most of them felt threatened and were hostile and worked actively to sabotage each record as it came out. Before I decided to give up, I went to visit Ray in New York. I flew there just to see him. I made an appointment— 9am. He came waltzing in at 11 and didn’t so much as say “sorry.” He was wearing the fanciest coat I had ever seen on a man. I complemented it and he said something to the effect of don’t even think about it; you’ll never be able to afford it.
After humiliating me in the hallway, we went into his office where he explained that if I wanted my records worked I had to pay. He knew I had no money. And after that I knew I would never get my records worked and they would die one after the other as they came out.
Lets skip forward some years. I was working at Sire and Seymour had signed a good-looking teenaged coat-check boy at Nell’s, Tommy. It wasn’t my kind of music, not even a little. But Tommy had a magnetic personality and he was a really nice guy and we became fast friends. So, of course I wanted to help him achieve his lifelong dream of having a #1 record. We released his eponymous debut album at the end of 1988 and “A Shoulder To Cry On” was the obvious hit single. Our promotion department managed to get the song into the Top 40, but nowhere near #1. And that was the best song on the album. I didn’t know what to do. I was miserable.
And then a funny thing happened. Ray Anderson was caught in a pay-for-play (payola) scandal and was fired by CBS, a scapegoat. I called him immediately-- the same day-- and asked him what he was planning to do. He was flabbergasted to hear from me. I told him I had a hit pop artist who needed a manager. I messengered him a tape. Within the week he was Tommy’s manger and he told Warners that the hit song on the record was “I’ll Be Your Everything.”
I knew the crooks who ran the radio stations would feel badly that Ray lost his job and would be eager to do something for him. I was right. They did something for him— they gave his new artist a number 1 hit record. There are 52 weeks in the year, so, potentially, 52 #1 records. But most of those slots belong to established super-stars. So for an unknown artist to get to #1… that’s magic. I was elated I could play some small role in helping that happen for my friend zTommy and for my team at Warner Bros. There’s a lot more to this story— Tommy’s career, Tommy’s life, Tommy’s death, Ray’s chicanery, Ray’s death. I’ll leave that for the book. Here’s the hit song. I brought Tommy to see Ministry play in Hollywood club and to meet Al Jourgensen. He told me it frightened him but was glad the band was playing behind a tall, sturdy fence.