The Many Faces of Manny Faces

Let’s face it, I’m really good at this producing thing. But selling myself, not so much. Delivering a pitch, closing the deal, I’m not a salesman. Well, I might be able to get by within the confines of a 9-5 day gig, but I really find it difficult to do while simultaneously being the product. I need to concentrate on being the product.

It’s crazy because I could be VP of your company (no, really, I’m nice with the biz skills), but out of the corporate gig, I can’t seem manage my own most important resource. Myself.

To date, I have done what I believe is an admirable job of marketing myself, branding myself, establishing myself, to a legion of fans, downloaders, and thanks to V-103 Atlanta, a major radio market who now know my name and/or purposely and strategically manipulated logo, with very little knowledge, connections or budget. I have personally spoken with Akon and been sought by Mary J. Blige in response to them hearing my versions of their songs, and digging what I did. I have countless emails from fans willing to spend money on my works, and radio PDs, MDs & DJs across the US and around the world playing my remixes (until the cease and desist letters start rolling in at least) to the audience’s great delight.

Too bad I don’t get out. Shame I won’t sacrifice my day job, or my children’s needs, or my girlfriend’s attention, to go galavanting around to the NY hot spots, with the hopes of meeting that ‘connection’ that I need to move forward and capitalize on this potentially lucrative skill I seem to have proven that I have. So I e-plug away, type away, email away, in hopes that some electronic seed I plant will one day sprout into a phone call or email from an interested power player who will say something like, “Hey Manny, listen, I’ve been watching you for a long time, and noticed you are very talented, consistent and can make our company many many many dollars. So, please, come to my office and let’s talk biz over paninis.” (which I don’t care much for.. paninis, not biz).

See, I like to be approach the whole thing from a spiritual outlook. If I am fated to succeed in this area of life, God himself will lay forth the path of fate for me to followeth. Um, nice and all, but I’m sure God has other, more important things, than plan a way for me to get to be able to produce track 11 on Nas’ next LP.

Neal says “Get the Puck.” Eh. I say, “Just you wait, the puck gonna come knock my teeth out soon, all I have to do is wait….” And so I wait. Then the ice melts and I remember I’ve been standing on Lake Pipedream and I start to drown in my own reality before I’m pulled out by the last strands of common sense I had tied to a nearby tree. But dammit, as soon as that lake freezes again, I’m back out there, waiting for the puck to hit me in the teeth.

This is quite a ramble. The point was supposed to be that maybe all I need is a manager of sorts. Someone fairly connected, who believes in my abilities, and can middle-man me to a profitable 85% cut of success.

Because I realized something today as I mulled over my magazine business plan (seeking funding, holla if you’re painfully rich), my movie treatment (as soon as I figure out how to write the entire screenplay, it is so on), and the outline to my first book (semi-autobiographical, odd, but inspirational, very much like me. Which stands to reason, since it’s semi-autobiographical). I really love doing music, and I do want to make money at it, but I have so many other things I believe I can accomplish, if only I could give the people the music they are saying they like, make some money, put aside for my children’s inevitable rainy days, and be all the man(ny) I can truly be.

Or maybe it’s all just part of having Adult ADD or something. Anyway, if you’re in the business, and think I’m worth knowing, please yell.