NEWSLETTER

So, you’ve had three years of avoiding lectures, wallowing in your own filth, eating food that not even the dossers on White Ace would consider sustenance, and getting up for Neighbours at 2 PM if you’re feeling sprightly. With your finals looming and all the stress of trying to cram 36 months of learning into 36 minutes by frantically highlighting bits of photocopies of your friends’ notes outside the big gym hall that you didn’t even know was there, it’s easy to forget that after the bell rings at the end of your last exam all of this stops. The interest-free overdrafts stop. The credit card companies aren’t offering you boundless credit anymore; they actually want money back. Your parents will have now held your hand through two decades of education so they will be more than happy to push you over the precipice into real life so that you can finally start paying for their retirement.

Basically, after giving you three years in the responsibility-free womb, you get ripped out into life with all the vigour of a back alley abortionist and it’s time to face up. This means getting a job. Here’s our guide to getting jobs that you will actually want to do by the people who are already doing them.




CAIUS PAWSON
Age: 22
Job: A&R, XL Records

Cauis Pawson is only 22 but his Young Turks imprint, now part of the XL group, has brought through acts such as Jack Peñate, Kid Harpoon, Gang Gang Dance and Holy Fuck. Considering he did less than a year at university, he must be doing something right.

In order to gain an insight into the life of an A&R, I accompanied Caius to Edinburgh to watch a new band he was thinking of signing. Caius seemed to spend every second of the time we were together “communicating” with not just a BlackBerry, but two BlackBerrys AND a phone. His balls must glow in the dark.

I was rather hoping to be entertained with some games on the five-hour train trip, but it seems these journeys offer valuable free time in which to update diaries, check confidential “scans” (record sales, to normal people), and listen to new music ripped from MySpace in search of that glimmer of potential gold.

The gig turned out to be at a campus university, miles outside the city, mainly populated by rabbits and Venezuelan exchange students. There were maybe 25 people in the venue and none of them were interested in the band. I think most of them were waiting for the resident DJ Des to play the usual hits.

At the gig, I wasn’t allowed to talk to Caius. He sat on a table at the front of the venue in his big baseball jacket and made notes while quietly muttering to himself and shaking his head like a crazy old person, all the while messaging people on his BlackBerry. This constant communicating has earned A&Rs who travel north the rather cute nickname “Bluefaces”, derived from the blue glow emanating from the phone screen.

The venue was oppressively soulless. Stills from Sin City and amusing pictures of kittens falling from trees were being projected on to the walls. So as soon as the band finished we headed for the exit.

There is no point working your arse off watching bands play to unreceptive crowds in dreary bars if you’re not planning on going a bit mental with the mini-bar when you get back to the hotel room. I was hoping that, having seen the band play out their set, we were going to roll out the sandwich bags of coke and bottles of Grey Goose. Instead, Caius reappeared with a pot of tea. He doesn’t actually drink. Oh well. We drank our Earl Grey in front of Shooter, a very long and very bad Mark Wahlberg film. In spite of the high-octane action, Caius nodded off. Touchingly, he was cradling his BlackBerry as if it were his precious firstborn child.

On the train journey back we played “the iPod game”. This involves each player choosing three songs then both of them listening to the resulting selection on shuffle and guessing the songs. It’s kind of silly. I think this is a game that only music industry people really get into. It went down hill after he played Destiny’s Child, twice.

Vice: How did you get into A&Ring for XL?

Caius: Through putting on nights, starting my own label and being lucky. Starting your own label is a quicker way into the industry than doing work experience, and it’s not as hard as you might think. The music business isn’t rocket science. There’s plenty of retards.

What does your job involve?

Finding new bands, signing bands and then trying to sell them. This is called “project managing”.

What are the advantages of working for an independent label as opposed to a blood-sucking major?

The label I work for is owned by one person, who happens to be a music-lover, rather than a pack of shareholders desperate for growing share prices. We can therefore work on big and small projects. It means Holy Fuck are just as important as Radiohead. In my head, at least.

Do you get laid the whole time?

Nope. I was once told by a girl that the three least attractive jobs for a man to have are A&R, club promoter and substandard DJ. I've never been put down quite so accurately and concisely. If you want girls, form a band and get ready to get sleazy.

What would you say are the three essential bits of kit for a scouting mission?

1) Ear plugs – in case you've made a big mistake.

2) A decent place to eat – never go to a gig on an empty stomach.

3) A quote book of slick music industry lines such as: “I haven’t been this excited since seeing Black Sabbath first play”; “You're the new ‘Circle Square Triangle’”; “I like it, but try writing a few new songs”; and my personal favourite: “Tell me this, where are the hits?”

CONTINUED:
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