From Rolling Stones to Hells Angels: What Retiring Tour Manager Peter Rudge Has Learned After 55 Years

Veteran artist manager Peter Rudge started his music career in 1968 when he took up a temporary £20.00 per week ($25.00) post at Track Records, the London-based independent label formed by The Who managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp that was also home to The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Marc Bolan. His original plan was to work at Track for three months while he waited to take the Civil Service entrance exam.

Instead, Rudge soon found himself traveling the world with The Who as their tour manager before going on to manage the group outright alongside Bill Curbishley, launching what would become a 55-year career in the business.

In the 1970s, Rudge also worked closely with The Rolling Stones, overseeing the band’s huge global tours throughout the decade, and Lynyrd Skynyrd, which he managed from 1973 until the 1977 plane crash that killed several members of the group, including singer Ronnie Van Zant. Other artists he’s represented over the past five decades include Roger Waters, Madness, Duran Duran, Il Divo, Ball & Boe and English rock band James, his longest and closest client which he has managed since 1989.  

Last month, Rudge announced he was retiring from artist management to work on other music projects, including co-producing a film documentary about pioneering music agent Frank Barsalona, who is widely credited with revolutionizing the rock concert business. 

“I got into business labeled the youngest guy in business and now I’m labeled the oldest guy in the business,” says Rudge, speaking exclusively to Billboard. “I don’t really want to be that. I’ve got nothing left to prove.”

Here, Rudge shares some of the biggest lessons he’s learned from 55 years in “the artist management trenches,” along with some of his favorite stories about life on the road with the Stones, The Who and countless others — from dealing with the deaths of several members of Lynyrd Skynyrd in a 1977 plane crash to becoming a target of the Hells Angels. “I tend to talk a lot,” he says laughing. “My mouth is my instrument.”   

“You’ve got to front up to so many egos.”  

“Artists are an acquired taste. I love them. I’ve worked with them, but I have to be [like] Henry Kissinger because I’ve spent my entire life translating the artist vision, their wishes to the label, to the publisher, to the agent in two different languages. You could call it an art form but it’s what I was good at. I originally wanted to be a diplomat. But I always wanted to travel, and I loved music. It was the other passion I had besides football, and I saw the opportunity very early [to enter the music business] and I got sucked into it.”  

Stand up for yourself and don’t be a pushover.

“The first time I met The Who face to face I was sitting in the Track [Records] office. I had a little desk in an anteroom outside Kit and Chris’ office. Pete Townshend draped his coat over me as if I was a coat stand and walked into the office without looking at me. I thought, ‘How do I deal with this?’ So, I threw it at him and said, ‘You’ve left something behind.’ And he just broke into a smile. You’re constantly tested in life, and I was never intimidated in that way. [James’ singer] Tim Booth says I’m always the loudest guy in the room, but you’ve got to take control. When an artist asks a question, they don’t want you to say, ‘I don’t have the answer.’ You’re there for a purpose and you can’t show a lot of weakness or vulnerability because that will get exploited and taken advantage of.  

“We all know the manager is on the thin end of the legal contractual chain in this business. The manager is always the buffer [between the artist and record company, agent and promoter]. But if the record goes wrong or the tour loses a lot of money, it’s the manager who usually takes the bullet in the head. Most of my bands have fired me at one point or another. You’re not 55 years in the business and don’t get fired.”  

Nothing compares to touring with The Rolling Stones in the 1970s.

“They got me in for the ‘72 tour. They never had a manager. Mick’s been the only manager of the Stones, to be honest. My brief was the ’72 tour but also you went across everything with Mick [Jagger]. He would come to you and say, ‘Pete, what do you think about this or that?’ He’d play everybody off against everybody — in a lovely way. I’ve got a massive amount of respect for Mick Jagger. We did the Exile on Main St. tour and that was successful, and I toured with them all through the Seventies. Marshall Chess was running the record company [Rolling Stones Records] and Mick would always use me to come in and I’d work with Atlantic Records. I did a little bit of everything, but my main thing was the tours, and we did some big shows.”

Always plan ahead.

“I used to have to get off the plane first, when it was on the runway, because we were always worried about getting busted [for drugs] and Keith [Richards] getting done in particular. I’d go to a pay phone and call the number of another pay phone in the city somewhere where the advance man was. I’d say, ‘Are we clear? Do you think the police are there? Is anyone in the hotel?’ And that was it — get off the plane, let’s go. It was like [British sitcom] Dad’s Army when you look back at it now. It was incredible but we were playing to 70,000 people every night.”  

“The Stones are the exception to most of the rules.” 

“1978 was my last [Stones] tour. I’d run my course with them, to be honest. Bill Graham took over. Then Michael Cohl. I was young and I probably screwed up. I should have been more responsible in terms of drink and things of that nature. You get caught up in that world. It’s a very intoxicating world. But they were phenomenal years… The Stones are the exception to most of the rules. They’ve got the best frontman who ever existed. And a guitarist who’s led every indulgent rock and roll fantasy life and who is going to outlive us all. For me, that’s the great rock and roll story — that Keith Richards is going to be the last man standing.”   

“Live is the one authentic thing in the music business” 

“You can basically manipulate everything else. I’d forgive a band a bad record. But when I saw them live, if I got them, I was with them forever. And I thought that about The Who. If The Who came along now, they’d probably be dropped after their second album. They were too inconsistent. They were too stubborn. They didn’t sell a lot of records. It was a very transitional stage and the thing that kept it all together was live. That connects the dots. So, I took that mantra into all the artists I’ve worked with… Lynyrd Skynyrd were a bar band. A bunch of scruffy kids from Jacksonville. No style. No image. But God could they play. And God was Ronnie Van Zant good live. And God did he connect with his audience. It was amazing. So that’s always fueled me. That’s always been where my passion lies and that’s what I took into [managing] the James guys. If a band is good live you’ve got some collateral to fall back on.” 

Find a supportive financier to write the checks. 

“I look back at [managing] The Who and we never cared about [promoting] the record. They just went and toured. And they were running at a huge loss, in some respects because [Pete] Townshend smashed up his guitars all the time. They beat up the equipment. They had no consideration for money and the reason that we were able to tour the U.S. and Europe out of cycle was because they found a bank manager in Ealing [London] who kept giving them overdrafts. He did it because he was a huge Who fan. Back in the day, we wouldn’t let the labels backstage. Jesus, they were a pain in the neck. I remember with the Stones there was a time when Ahmet [Ertegun, co-founder and legendary former president of Atlantic Records] never got a pass. It was a different time.”  

Managing artists can sometimes be a hairy business.  

“The Hells Angels came after me because I was the first guy to take over [managing The Rolling Stones] after Altamont [Free Concert]. I remember once they came into the office. Big Vinny [Vincent Girolamo] was 300 pounds. He had a nose ring. Jagger was there and he went and hid in the back bathroom. They hung me out of the window, 5th floor, 57th Street, by my ankle. I went to someone and said, ‘The Angels are after me. What can I do?’ And they said, ‘You’ve got to tell the FBI,’ which I did. The FBI said, ‘We’ll wire you up’ because the Angels wanted money to pay off legal fees. I remember a great quote the FBI played me back later on the tape where one of the [Hells Angels] said, ‘We like to cook young guys like you. We like to boil you.’ It was intimidating, but I bullshitted my way out of it.  

“In the end, I was put in touch with [someone in] one of the, shall we say, New York families who was the father of a promoter that we used — a really high-level ranking guy. They sent someone down and said, ‘Leave him alone.’ And I never heard from [the Hells Angels] again, except in Europe we used to get them coming along but our guys used to handle it quite well. The guy that helped me out on that, the father of the promoter, was found three years later in the Hudson [River] without his head.”  

“The only real gift you can give an artist is truth and objectivity.” 

“There are moments where you have to be prepared to be fired or disagree and say, ‘Look, you’re wrong.’ I’m your eyes and your ears. I’m your radar. No one tells you the truth. They tell me the truth when you walk out of the room. Have you ever heard anyone in a room tell you anything other than, ‘That’s a great record?’ No, you haven’t. Have you ever come off stage and had anyone tell you, ‘That was a shit show?’ No, they haven’t.’ You’ve got to have someone who is telling you that. With James we had that relationship. We built it up over a long time and it’s based on trust. Some artists can accept it, and others can’t.”

“This business is all about relationships.”  

“You’re going to see everybody on the way down that you saw on the way up. So don’t burn bridges and don’t beat people up when you’re in the position to. I could have been accused over the years of being a bastard. And, yes, I was at times. I was probably alcohol or drug fueled back in the ‘70s but so was everybody. I did jump on [former CBS Records chief executive] Walter Yetnikoff’s desk once and point my finger at him but that was the way you did things back then. I wouldn’t do it now. I feel now you don’t mug someone. You pick their pockets.”

Management can be a thankless job.

“I’m 78 now. I want to travel on my own terms because [artist] management — it’s not your life. It’s not your agenda. You’re constantly having to manage other people’s lives. You very rarely get an artist who will ever call you up and say, ‘Pete, how’s the family?’ It’s usually: ‘I know it’s Sunday morning but how do I get a cab?’ I’ve always said, you can negotiate a $5 million publishing contract for an artist but if the car you send them to go to the signing is late, you’re a bad manager. And you have to have that in the back of your head all the time. It’s insane.”

“You sacrifice a lot in this business.” 

“I want to do other projects, but I want them to have a beginning and an end. I don’t want it seven days a week, 52 weeks a year. You sacrifice a lot in this business. I was on the road nonstop when my two kids were growing up. I hardly saw them. I’ve been separated because of that dysfunctionality of living half the time in America, half the time in England…It is exhausting. You wake up every morning to questions and it is Groundhog Day after a while. There’s really nothing you haven’t seen before. I think you get a little cynical and that’s not healthy in our business.”

Dysfunction isn’t always a bad thing.

“Bands that love each other break up out of boredom after three albums. When I promoted a Pink Floyd show they didn’t even want their trailers backstage in sight of each other. With Mick and Keith, I was involved in an album when they were never in the studio together at the same time. James are the most dysfunctional bunch of guys I’ve ever met. But when these bands get on stage, when they cross that white line, something special happens that I’ve always been in awe of.”

There’ll be many lows…  

“The saddest point of my life, the worst, was the Lynyrd Skynyrd plane crash one week before they were going to headline Madison Square Garden [in 1977]. Bands south of the Mason–Dixon line didn’t get to play places like New York then and we were about to play it. That was a longstanding mission. I loved that band. I loved Ronnie Van Zant. That did break me.”

And many highs. 

“The highs? There’s been so many. I’ve worked with some magnificent artists and some of the Roger Waters, Lynyrd Skynyrd or Duran Duran shows [were special]. James at Rock in Rio this summer was quite a moment for me. But nothing tops some of the Stones stuff. You know, Jagger leading a 200 people conga line down the LA Forum doing ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ [in 1975] was unbelievable. There’s been so many of those moments with so many bands. I have to say the last James tour when they sold out [London’s] The O2 [arena] and the Manchester Co-op Live — that gave me immense satisfaction and pride. It was the wonderful culmination of a 35-year journey.”

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