Allow me to (re)introduce myself…
It’s music industry panel season, and I’ve had the chance recently to speak at SXSW in Austin, SPOT Festival in Denmark, and I’ll be at Music Biz in Atlanta next week. One question that always comes up at events like these is: “When did you decide to make the transition from the creative side to the business side?”
It’s not a wild question. I played in bands from childhood until I was 36, and then started a job running the U.S. office of the record label 4AD. So on paper, it might look like I switched from touring as a drummer one day to sitting behind a desk the next. But real life doesn’t work that cleanly. For me, there was never a clear divide. I’ve come to believe there’s only one side: the creative side.
I’ve always been drawn to both art and business. When I was five, I’d tag along with my mom to her MBA classes and study groups. By age eight, I had a lemonade stand and already understood the fundamentals: buy something in quantity, change or present it in a compelling way, and sell it for more than you paid. Eight cups at 25 cents each made me $2 from a 50-cent can of concentrate. I didn’t know the term markup, but I knew it worked.
Even then, it wasn’t just about the money. I spent time designing my sign—which colors felt welcoming, which magic markers were more legible. I didn’t have the language for it, but even back then, I was blending art with commerce.
That same instinct carried through to high school bands. We’d write songs, record distorted basement tapes, then make tape covers at Kinko’s and sell them at school. Playing music was just one part of the process—packaging and selling it was equally as fun. Every piece of it felt like my bandmates and I were making something together.
When my friend Jason and I opened Sonic Boom Records in Seattle—a store we owned for 19 years—it was technically a retail business. We paid rent, dealt with inventory, and hired staff. But it never felt like “just a store.” We were surrounded by musicians, artists, and designers. Whether they were ringing up records or dropping off flyers, they were part of a shared, creative ecosystem.
Today, I run the U.S. office of Beggars Group, a large independent record label group that includes 4AD where I worked for 13 years. I work less directly with artists than I did during my time at 4AD, and more with things like budgets, HR, and building management (which, yes, includes trying to convince the city to repaint the curb near our loading dock—it’s not happening). And still, I feel more creatively free now than I did before.
When I was running 4AD, I sometimes held back on ideas, worrying about costs, artist bandwidth, manager opinions, and other blockers. Now, I’m more comfortable tossing ideas into the room—partly because I’m not the one executing them, but also because I believe in the value of uninhibited creativity. In the best-case scenarios, a throwaway idea grows into something real and powerful. Most of the time it doesn’t—and that’s fine. That’s part of the process too.
I work with about 70 other people, and they’re all creative—whether they’re designing album covers, drafting contracts, or coordinating shipments. Some of them might not call themselves creatives, but they are. The same way a teenager with a cassette and a Kinko’s card is a creative. The same way a kid with a lemonade stand is.
Whatever field you’re in, there’s creativity in it. And if you think of yourself as “a creative,” you’ve surely had to make peace with business, too. You might dread one and love the other. But maybe, like me, you start to realize it’s all part of the same process.
I had a blast interviewing Henry Rollins last month at VersoFest in Connecticut and our full conversation is now up on YouTube. This Wednesday I’ll sit on a panel at Music Biz in Atlanta called “Was It Ever A Straight Line?: Paths to Success in the Digital Age.”
All 20 episodes of my podcast, Identified Season 1 are live now. Episode one is with Karen Ayers, a living descendant of the man who enslaved my paternal ancestors. After that, it’s a rapidly growing list of musicians, comedians, authors, chefs and friends talking about family. Identified is available on all major podcast platforms, 100% free and ad free. You can watch short video clips on YouTube and Instagram. Watch for Season 2 this spring… soon!
Listen: Apple Spotify Amazon Bandcamp Website
My memoir is called My Life in the Sunshine. You can order it here, or listen to the audiobook on Spotify.
I hope to see you somewhere soon. Upcoming events are always listed here.
Nabil Ayers / Brooklyn
Thanks, Nabil. I’m a Gemini, which may explain why I’m an accountant but am also a creative, a massive lover of music and books and the arts. Career wise, my dream was to combine music and accounting, which I did for many years working for a business manager and then a concert promoter. I still try to reconcile those two parts of myself. Thank you for sharing your thoughts about this!