MOLLY HALL
Molly’s feature article in Backtracking: Volume 1 can be found here, on Page 8.
Hayley: Say an act has reached a stage at which they think they might be ready to expand their team. How would you pitch the idea of an artist manager to them? What would they need to think about before bringing someone new on board?
Molly: I actually think it’s best not to have an artist manager for as long as possible. I think a lot of people bring one in without really knowing what they do, [but] I think you need to have a good understanding of artist management before you take on an artist manager. If you’ve already been doing a lot of the job yourself, when you [eventually] do bring in a manager, you know exactly what they need to be doing. Also, do you have enough funds coming in to give 15% or 20% away? Have you got enough going on that you actually need an artist manager? [Because] an artist manager isn’t someone who can ‘make things happen’ for you. They manage what’s already happening.
That’s so interesting. I think you’re right—I don’t think many people would consider a manager’s main function to be to ‘manage what’s already happening’.
I think people think they need a manager to get gig bookings and make things happen, but that’s definitely not [the case]. You need a manager when you’ve got so much going on that you need someone to manage it for you. I think that’s the misconception.
Is artist management something you set out to get involved in or something you fell into by accident?
I fell into it, 100%. I’ve fallen into everything I do by accident. I was a musician and then I started working for a label—fell into that—and then I fell into starting my events company. Then in lockdown, I was like ‘Oh, I might as well start a label...’. There was no plan for any of it. Artist management [came about] from people liking what I do, and coming to me and asking ‘Do you want to manage me?’. Suddenly, I’m an artist manager. It’s crazy.
Going back to when you were younger, has music always been a part of your life?
Yeah. I started in theatre and dance when I was younger, and I’ve been making music throughout my entire life as an artist, writing songs and performing with bands. I didn’t really think about the business side of things until I went to uni. But yeah, I’ve always loved music.
What sort of music were you into when you were younger? Are there any particular bands or artists that remind you of that time?
I loved Michael Jackson when I was growing up. It’s changed loads since I was younger. I’m really into my funk and soul now, but I used to be really into punk and I’m starting to get back into the punk scene. [That said, although] I love the music, I think I’m more into the scenes and the communities [that surround it]. That’s what really draws me to the music industry. Everyone coming together to see music, and people supporting each other. I love that sense of community, I think it’s great. It’s like in high school, when you don’t really know who your friends are and then you start surrounding yourself with people who [make you feel] like ‘Oh, you’re just like me!’. I think that’s why I love meeting other people in the music industry, because we’re all similar in a way. Very different, but also similar.
Different people with the same spirit.
Yeah!
When did your passion for the live side of things come in? Was that through making music?
I managed my own band when I was in my teens and put on my own tours and events [but] I think, again, I just fell into it. I used to be—I still am—a party girl, but I used to be a big party girl. I was always the person that hosted parties and dinner parties and held events for my friends. Then I realised ‘I’m really good at this! I might as well do it for other people and charge’.
Did you have much access to live events when you were younger? Whereabouts did you grow up?
I grew up in Manchester, in Didsbury. My Mum is a big party person and took us to a lot of live gigs. Me and my brother were those kids with the big earmuffs on in a crowd! I’ve been at festivals and gigs from a young age. We’re a very big party family.
I’ve noticed that that’s a common thread with people who work in live events, almost like it’s in your bones.
Yeah, I would say that. It’s in my bones! I feel like I’m just very comfortable being at live events, whereas I know that a lot of people aren’t. It can be a bit intense, but I find I’m so comfortable at live events, probably because I’ve been brought up around them.
Was there a particular moment when you realised—or decided—that you wanted to work in the industry? Did you study something events-related at uni?
No, I went to uni… just because my friends were going really. I went to BIMM, but left after my first year. I partied throughout the entirety of uni, I don’t think I did that much [learning] and then, I think from my partying, I just kind of fell into the industry, because I was out with people who were [already part of it]. I think I was in the industry before I realised that I wanted to be in it. I was just like ‘Oh, I’m here and I really enjoy this’.
I think—quote-unquote—‘networking’ in that way is really unique to the arts, where you can go out and have a good time, but technically, you’re also making contacts and seeking out new opportunities.
100%. I think networking is so important, but now that I’m not as much of a party girl, I have to [think of it as part of my job]. Whereas before, I’d be out anyway, now I ‘need’ to go out for work. And I’m like ‘Ah, I just want to be in bed with a nice movie on!’. It’s very different now.
Tell me more about your career trajectory—the roles and the projects that have gotten you to where you are today. Which ventures came at which points?
So first, I was in a band and then I started working for what was then a small label in Manchester, who are quite big now. I loved the whole ‘boss’ feeling [that came with work]. Then I started working in events and marketing at another agency. I think lockdown was really [crucial] for me, because I spent all that time building up my business. Honestly, the timeline is very blurry because everything’s happened so gradually, and like I said, I just slipped into it, so I didn’t really know something had started until it had started.
With you mentioning lockdown, did you ever have any reservations about building a business largely centred on live events? Because obviously there was a time, however brief it was, when people didn’t know if live events would come back…
No, I was just excited. I was one of the first people to run a live music event after lockdown. I was very eager to be the first. I wanted to swoop in as quickly as possible, in a safe way [though] obviously. I was ready for it, very ready for it!
I have so many questions about the events side of things, but let’s briefly go back to artist management. What skills would you say that you need to be a good artist manager?
Confidence, as in confidence to talk to people. You need to be charismatic, because you’re the person that’s most likely going to be talking to people and making connections on behalf of your artist. Organised, definitely. And I think you just need to be a good people person. I think it’s a very hard job, but I also think anyone can do it. No actually, I don’t think anyone can do it. I think being a good people person is the number one thing [though]. You’re going to get into a lot of conflict on behalf of your artist, whether it’s with a producer or with a venue. You’re the person that needs to fight their battles, so you need to be good with conflict and good under pressure. I used to be terrible with conflict, I used to cower away, but now I’m very professional. I think you also need to be flexible so you can adapt to what the artist wants, [though] it’s also really important to know that you’re not working for the artist and the artist isn’t working for you, the two of you are working as a team. I think a lot of people get that wrong. You’re a team. The manager can stop working with the artist whenever they want, the artist can stop working with the manager whenever they want, as long as the contract [allows]. I think that’s something that you need to [remember].
How do you choose the artists that you represent when you know you’ll be working with them so closely?
I’ve never actually reached out to an artist. There have been artists that I’ve kept my eye on [knowing that] I’d love to work with them, but all the artists that I work with now, they’ve initially reached out to me. I’ve always been like ‘OK, we’re going to have a six month [stretch] where, I’m not really your manager, but we’ll just see if we gel’. You need to have a good relationship—[essentially] a friendship—before you start working with them, otherwise it’s not going to work. If they’re nice, if I can see myself being their friend, if I can spend a [fair amount] of time with them without getting annoyed… I think they’re the main things I look for, but I always take six months before I decide on anything or sign any contracts.
That sounds sensible, given how much time you’ll be spending together. I suppose there’s no need to rush into anything.
Don’t jump into it, oh my god. There have been artists that I’ve spent six months with and I’ve been so glad that we’ve worked well and, because I’m great at my job, they’ve come back saying ‘I want you to be my manager’. But there have also been artists where I’m like ‘They’re lovely, but they just don’t align with how I work’. You need to have the same kind of work ethic. I think that’s really important. I’m a good manager to the artists that I work with, but I might not be a good manager to another artist that needs a certain something or a certain way of working. [Whichever side you’re on,] you should definitely be picky about your manager and your artist.
It’s interesting that you mention work ethic. I think there are so many jobs within the industry where personality can almost be more important than skill or raw talent when it comes to who you want to hire or collaborate with. As you say, because you tend to work so closely with whoever else is on your team, it’s often much more so about who you get on with and who you want to spend all that time around.
There are people that I know are really good at their job, but I wouldn’t want to be on a six month tour with them. Nothing against them or anything, but I think that picking your team is so important in the music industry. It’s such a difficult industry to work in, you want someone around that’s going to have your back. That doesn’t mean you’re never going to have squabbles, but I think I’ve learned that I don’t just want to work with the best of the best, I want to work with people that work well with me.
“I’ve learned that I don’t just want to work with the best of the best, I want to work with people that work well with me.”
From the outside, it’s easy to assume that you’d be working towards the same thing—the same form of success—with each of your artists, but do you tend to have a different goal or guiding aim with each of them? Is it all quite personalised, depending where they are and where they want to be?
Very personalised. I’d say during the first year of working together, we’re working out… I work with emerging artists, so they’re still trying to find their path and their brand. None of my artists had released music before I started managing them. They’ve all just started [their careers], so the first year is figuring out their direction and what’s good for them together. It’s very personalised. Like with content [for example]. One of my artists is more old school, so [we work on making] raw content, whereas another one of my artists [produces] a lot more influencer-style content.
Content is something that I think people might be surprised to hear that you’re involved in. Are there any other elements of the job you think might surprise people?
I think people would be surprised by how much artist managers actually do. Say, with content. All my artists always send it to me first to approve it. Not because they need approval, just to ask me what I think. Managers have involvement in every single part [of an artist’s career]. I don’t know if that would surprise people though. Maybe they’d be surprised by the hours? You work basically all the time. I think it’s often underestimated how big a job it is. I think people go into it [flippantly], thinking ‘Oh, I can do that!’ and I’m like ‘I don’t know if you can…’. It’s hard.
So—if there is one—what does the average day of ‘Artist Manager Molly’ look like?
There are two different sides. There are days when it’s all admin, so I’m sending off invoices and responding to emails, I have my management meetings—so I’ll have a call with all of my artists—and I’ll go through all the bookings, do marketing strategy, [work on] campaigns… It varies. [That] or I’m on site, either on a shoot or at an event.
It can be 24 hours a day—I’ll have an hour’s sleep sometimes—or it can be very easy. My artists message me every single day though, all of them. When I first started working with them, they were all like ‘Oh, I don’t want to send you too many messages, I don’t want to bother you!’. Now they’ll call me at 1am! It’s like being the mum sometimes to a load of kids.
How do you tend to match the artists that you represent with the opportunities or the environments in which you think they’ll thrive?
[To go back to your earlier question,] I think something else you want to look for in a manager is someone with a big network and a lot of strong professional relationships. I’m very much in the Manchester scene and I’ve got a lot of contacts, so for me it’s finding the balance of not wanting to spam my network while also pushing my artist out to the right people. I [seek out] the people that I sense will help them in that moment.
All of my artists get very different opportunities. For instance, one of my artists is great with the festival scene, whereas one of my other artists never gets booked for festivals, so rather than trying to chase the opposite, I focus on what’s already working. I’ll be like ‘Let’s focus on the festivals. Obviously that’s really working, so let’s hone in on that and eventually, the other side will come’. It’ll be different things for different artists, it’s just seeing what they need and going from there.
It’s also about handling their frustration when things aren’t going as planned. Some artists that I work with expect things to happen straight away and I always say ‘It just takes time. We’ll just keep [working], that’s all we can do’. Just because someone hasn’t gone ‘Oh my god, yes!’ straight away doesn’t mean that they’re never going to. So it’s keeping them at a comfortable level, [making sure they don’t] have too high expectations and that they aren’t crushed by every rejection.
So does there sometimes end up being an element of emotional management within the role as well?
Yeah. If they’ve got an issue, they’ll call me. I think that’s a key skill with artist management as well, understanding how to deal with people’s emotions. Because how I would deal with one of my artists when they’re feeling down is very different to how I’d deal with my other artists. Again, [it comes back to] being a good people person.
When did you realise you were ready to be a manager? Have you ever struggled with things like imposter syndrome? Because, to go back to something you said earlier, it’s technically a job that anybody can do, but one that not just anyone can do well. By that, I mean that although, in theory, there is no barrier to entry, it takes a particular type of person to be a good artist manager in practice.
I don’t think that [only applies to] being a good artist manager. I think people go into [loads of] things and quickly stop because they have an expectation that it’s not that hard, especially running events. People will [flippantly] be like ‘I want to start running events’, not knowing how much work actually goes into it. I think it’s more about stamina. You’ve got to keep pushing until you get to the good bits. I think I have that stamina. Anyone can ‘be a manager’, but have you got the stamina to get to the point where you’re actually being a manager?
I get imposter syndrome all the time though. All the time. Even at my event, Elephunk, I go in and I’m still like ‘I have no idea how I got here’. I get imposter syndrome, but I also know that I’m very good at my job. I’m not questioning my skills or my capabilities, it's more like ‘How did this happen?’.
You must get that with some of the opportunities that artist management brings your way as well, especially working with international artists. Does that ever bring extra challenges, or is it just exciting to explore those opportunities?
It’s more exciting and more challenging. [Generally speaking,] I think the most exciting parts of my job are also the most challenging, but I thrive on challenge and stress and change. I’ve been touring Europe with my artists over summer and there have been a lot of things that I’ve had to learn. There are obviously language barriers, invoices are different… There have been loads of things, but I’ve overcome them. I think in the UK, I feel a lot more comfortable because I usually have people that I know around me. Being abroad, I don’t know anyone. There’s nowhere I can go to get a bit of comfort or a bit of support. [Practically too,] say I’m at an event and I need to [unexpectedly] source a drum kit. I have people in the UK I can call, whereas if I’m abroad, I don’t. That can be very hard.
I also think managing international artists can be really interesting because… It’s a good thing sometimes and it’s a bad thing sometimes. Manchester really supports Manchester artists, so I don’t see as many [local] opportunities come through for my international artists as my Manchester-based artists. But then with other things, it’s like ‘Oh, they’re international? Let’s go!’. Different challenges, I guess.
You briefly mentioned invoices there, and one of the things I really wanted to speak to you about was money. How do you tackle financial chat with your artists? Conversations around earning potential, for instance, I imagine could be quite tricky. Do you ever find it awkward or uncomfortable?
No, but I’m very comfortable talking about money. I also think it should be talked about more in the music industry, because a lot of people are like ‘How do you get money?’. There are so many opportunities out there for artists and promoters to get funding, and I don’t think it’s talked about enough. There’s a lot of support out there that people don’t know about because we don’t have those conversations, so whenever people ask me, I’m always honest, like ‘There’s not much money, but there’s getting [to be] more and more’.
With management, it’s in our contracts [that I receive] 15% of whatever my artists earn. When I first started out, I was giving loads away for free. Loads of my work and loads of my time. Then I came across the contract stuff and was like ‘OK, now I’m doing contracts!’. I have all payments go into my business account and from that, I then pay the artists, so I take my 15% out and send [the remainder] to them. There’s a whole discussion about whether the artist should pay all of their expenses and then pay the manager, or [if it should be] 15% of whatever they make. Different people work differently. My approach is I need to get paid, but I also want to be fair. I recently joined MMF, the Music Managers Forum, [an organisation that] supports music managers. They have weekly meetings [in which they discuss] how to be the best manager, [as well as] how not to get screwed over. I’ve learnt a lot through those. For instance, I don’t think a lot of managers realise that you [are entitled to] 15% of your artist’s royalties. Some of [that stuff’s] very complicated and I’m only just getting to grips with it.
It must be nice to be part of a community as well when you’re otherwise working independently.
We can all speak to each other, they have retreats, they have events… It’s really good, they’re doing amazing things. I’ve met loads of managers too. I’ve not met a single manager in Manchester. I’ve met loads in London, but not Manchester. But through MMF, I’ve met some managers and they’ve been telling me stories [and] basically how I should look after myself. Because obviously you want to look after your artist, but you’re also doing a lot, you need to look after yourself as well. It’s finding that balance, which I think can be difficult. I don’t want to screw anyone over, but I also don’t want to be screwed.
I guess there’s that cliché, isn’t there, of the fat cat manager in LA who’s taking all their artist’s money, but I imagine most managers just want to get on with their job and ensure that their artists do well.
I think managers work so hard, with not much pay. [If and] when their artists do make it big, the manager has done so much [up until that point], that they do still deserve their 15%. But I’ve seen those movies with the big LA managers, giving the manager community a [bad] name. I don’t want to be like that! I think everyone just needs to be fair and supportive. Also, something that I’ve learned recently is that if you're clear on your values and you think about those all the time, you can use those to move forward in business. When people don’t really know or understand what their values are, that’s when they can trip themselves up.
“When people don’t really know or understand what their values are, that’s when they can trip themselves up.”
So in a way, those values guide you to the people or the opportunities that most align with you?
Yeah. [For instance, some of] my values are transparency, fairness and respect. They’re all really simple things, but I think now that I have them in my mind and I think of them as they relate to my business, it helps.
Would you say that those values guide you when it comes to your other pursuits as well, away from artist management?
Yeah, all of it. I try to be really transparent. Like with Elephunk, I now have forms [that] artists sign. I’m very transparent, like ‘This is your payment, this where the [other] money goes’, so they know that we're paying the venue, and this and that, and don’t think ‘Well, where does everything else go?’. I’m also very [keen] to support them beyond just putting them on at the event. I’m still very willing to give a lot for free. I’m not always expecting people to pay for my time, you know? I don’t think you can do that in the music industry. So it definitely goes into my events as well. I think contracts are a big thing for me now, because it’s secure for me and also secure for the people I’m working with. I didn’t work with contracts [in the past] and now I look back and think ‘My god, that was so stressful’.
I think when you’re starting out, there’s a pressure to almost have that attitude of ‘It’s OK, we’re all friends!’. But then there comes a point when you find yourself craving that safety net, not just for you but for the benefit of everyone involved.
I mean, I’ve been screwed over a lot on the business side of things. I’ve learnt the hard way, but also because of that, I’m not [sheepish about that stuff now]. I’m just like ‘Here’s the contract.’. I think people really respect it. When I first started doing it, I was like ‘Is this a bit ‘Look at me’?’. But no, I think people respect it, and I actually think it’s better, even if you’re friends. There are no weird [confrontations].
Tell me more about how you got started in events. I first came across you through Elephunk when I was working at Band on the Wall, but had you run events before that? I know you run other events besides Elephunk now.
So Elephunk came before Rebel Riot Records. I had Elephunk, then I created my label and Elephunk was the first thing on it. Then I launched an event called Soul Island—ages ago—which was all acoustic artists. Elephunk is very funk and disco, so it was a way for me to get into the more acoustic side of things. Then I launched Painted Jazz—which raises money for Manchester Mind—because I wanted to do something for charity. That’s jazz and painting. I launched a club night in the past called Dirty Disco too and it was… I wasted so much money. But I think you need to be prepared to waste money on these things. Some ideas are going to work really well—like Elepunk and Painted Jazz—but [others aren’t]. Dirty Disco was awful. I think I just did it wrong. It was a great idea, I just executed it wrongly. It was a learning experience. I think I’d probably do another club night, but I’d need to think about how to do it better.
Is there anything you did with Dirty Disco that you wouldn’t do now?
I think I’d need to be more particular with my venue. I don’t think what I wanted fit the venue. Also, the marketing was terrible—it was awful—so I’d hire someone to do better marketing. I still do most of my marketing, but I’m trying to delegate more of my tasks now because I’ve realised I’m not the best. I think other people can do better and I think that’s what’s holding me back at the moment. [Improving the] marketing is my next thing.
With you mentioning venues, do you feel like Elephunk has found a fitting home at Band on the Wall?
100%. Elephunk and Band on the Wall go together so well. The venue is really supportive and people know it as a Band on the Wall thing now. I was shocked when they said I could do it there. Since [moving the event there], it’s grown into something that I’m so proud of.
I always assumed it had started at Band on the Wall. Where was it based before?
No, it started at Off The Square. It was good and I learnt a lot through it, and I think Off The Square’s a great venue, but there [tends to be] a lot of brass in the kind of bands that I book and I think it just wasn’t the right fit. It’s not just if the venue’s great, but if it’s the right fit for your event. I think that’s what people need to think about.
Whenever I talk to independent promoters, I always say the same thing—that although a lot of music fans talk about putting on their own events, very few of them have either the guts or the motivation to actually do it, so although it might sound like a strange thing to say, I think it’s a really brave thing to do. Did you ever have any reservations about putting on your own events?
Not really. I was very confident about it, to be fair. I think because I hosted big parties when I was a student—like big, big parties, not just house parties—I was very, maybe overly confident in myself. I’d had people say ‘You run such great events’ before I even started the events. But then I started and I was awful. I think that’s the thing… You start thinking that you’re going to be amazing and you’re not, but as you keep going, you’re going to get better. I think a lot of people think I started Elephunk in the Room and it was [immediately] this great thing. No, god no. I used to have Dumbo—actual Dumbo—as my marketing. It was awful, it was so bad. I look back on some of those things and I’m like ‘Ugh!’, it’s definitely taken time. But I was really confident and I knew it was something that I wanted to keep doing.
How do you go about putting a line up together for a night like Elephunk?
When I first started, I’d hound people’s Instagrams. I’d just go through loads of [profiles], like ‘Who do I like and who do I not like?’. Now, I get artist submissions through my website. I get loads through and I’ll spend days going through them. I [work hard to] make sure that all the artists on a line up align with each other. I don’t want to book one band that’s completely different to the others. I tend to keep it very funk, jazz, disco, soul, a bit of hip hop.
I’ve started working on Funk Street at Band on the Wall as well, and that’s quite stressful because that’s more particular. It’s just one band [per event] and it’s like I need to find a particular thing. I have more control over my own events though and having people come to me is a lot easier. I don’t have to do any work! I just go ‘Yep, great, booked.’.
It must have been a huge compliment to be asked to collaborate with Band on the Wall on Funk Street, a real reflection of how much they admire what you do there with Elephunk. How is it working with a venue to programme one of their events compared to programming the lineups for your own promotions?
It’s good, I just think I’ve worked on my own for too long! No… It’s more collaborative. Instead of me going ‘These are really good.’, I have to [follow their brief], which is fair enough as they’re paying the band’s fee. I love it, but finding that one band can take a lot of time. I spend days going ‘They’re really good, but no’. We need something like a dating app for booking bands! Once they’re booked, it’s easy. I just turn up and say ‘Are you OK, do you need anything?’. I’d say all the stress is right before the event, then when I get to the event, it’s easy. Anything that could go wrong, I’m like ‘I don’t care’. I think because Band on the Wall have all the equipment [we could need] on site, I don’t have to worry about stuff like that. The only thing is if a band drops out, but now I have so many people that want to play at Elephunk, I’m like ‘It’s fine, I’ll just pick someone else’.
Given that you’re booking mainly emerging or up and coming artists, would you ever book an act who hadn’t released any music?
I’d always listen [to an artist’s music before booking them], for Elephunk especially. I always want to make sure they sound… There’s some people that send me music saying ‘We’re a funk band’ and then I listen and I’m like ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you are…’. A lot of people don’t have music out, but they send me their demos and that’s fine. As long as I can hear something.
With you working in both management and events, I can imagine it’s helpful to have the knowledge from one when you’re working on the other and vice versa. Would you say each role informs the other in that way?
Oh, 100%. I’ll be with my artists at events and helping them put on events and tours, [plus] I book them at my own events as well. I think it’s really important in the music industry to do more than one job. I think it’s wise. Maybe down the line, you pick the one that’s best for you, but when you’re starting out, you need to be doing and trying everything, just to learn and make contacts. I think event management has helped me a lot. I know I’m not going to be doing all of these jobs my entire life—I’ll pick [one] as I go along—but I think they’re all definitely helping me build a label. And my [focus] is building my community more so than building my career, if that makes sense?
As in your professional community, or the community around your events?
The Rebel Riot Records community. So bands, venues… Professional [contacts] and creatives.
Is that community element something that you crave, largely working alone?
I never feel like I work on my own. If I’m on my own I’m like ‘Yes!’ because I’m constantly around people. It’s a really social job.
I saw that you recently started hosting your own radio show as well, adding another dimension of community building to everything you do already.
I [now] present on Radio Alty, on their breakfast show. I bring artists in to talk and give them radio play. That’s [further] building the Rebel Riot Records community, because it’s all interlinked, whether they find my events and through that find out about the radio, or the other way around. I’ve also got another business launching soon that’s in music tech. That’s going to be launching in 2025, and is something else that’s very interlinked.
That’s a lot for one person, Molly!
With Rebel Riot Records, I’m now delegating tasks to other people so that I can focus more on building the business. We’ll be expanding, but I won’t be as involved in everything as I am now because it would be too much. I’ll still manage my artists, but there’ll be other artists on the label that other managers will be managing and new events will come to Rebel Riot Records, but won’t be managed by me. I’m a bit of a control freak—like ‘I can do everything!’—and I’ve been trying to get myself out of that. I know I can’t expand if I’m not going to let other people help me. That’s my aim for 2025.
“I’m a bit of a control freak—like ‘I can do everything!’—and I’ve been trying to get myself out of that. I know I can’t expand if I’m not going to let other people help me.”
On the one hand, I suppose it’s nice to be able to say with certainty that you’ve built your business up to what it is today independently, but it’s also important to know your limitations and ask for help when you need it.
You can’t build a successful business on your own. I’ve probably taken it as far as it can go [on my own]. We’re at a bit of a standstill at the moment. The events and the artists are going to [continue to] get more popular, but the label itself can’t do anymore because I—Molly—literally, physically can’t. I’ve learnt a lot about terms like CEO, CTO, CMO, and I’ve started filling those gaps with people.
As a person who must have so many different mental tabs open at once, have you found an effective way to stay balanced and avoid burnout? How do you take care of yourself?
I think I’m a very high energy person anyway, but I have [experienced] serious burnouts. I’m still trying to figure that [balance] out. I’m a big write-it-down person though. I have my diary, where I write out all my to-dos, and then I have my online diary, where I do the exact same. I do think though, if I’m working on my management stuff and then I go to do one of my events, it feels like a different job. I feel like I’ve finished at one job and I’m going to start at another one.
So they’re quite separate in your mind?
Yeah. I’ve also made the conscious decision to focus my life at the moment on my work, so because I’ve decided on that, I’m not like ‘Oh, but I need to go and be with friends!’. I’ve [committed], there’s no turning back. I can rest in my thirties, it’s fine!
Do you ever struggle with the lack of schedule I assume comes with working in events, or struggle with the lack of free time?
I’d actually say my life is so scheduled. I’d say working in events has to be scheduled. I love a schedule though, although I do crave a bit of chaos. Right before my label became a limited company—which was a big thing!—I went travelling for five months and was working from my laptop. It was before Elephunk moved to Band on the Wall, so right before everything blew up. I loved that, but I did have it in the back of my mind that it would be my last time being so unscheduled. Now, my whole life is a schedule. I even schedule in my friends.
Does it tend to balance out in that a lot of the management stuff takes place during the day and then the events stuff later at night?
[Generally speaking,] yeah. Admin and management in the day, and then events in the evening.
Is that something you’d ever advise your artists on, how to manage their personal schedules?
I manage all of their schedules! We have a shared calendar, so yeah, I do all of that.
I imagine that all of your roles produce an incredible amount of admin. Do you ever feel far away from the actual music when maybe you’ve spent too long on your laptop?
I don’t think so. I’m a big multitasker, so if I’m having one of my admin days, I’ll also be going through the music submissions [that come through my website]. If something catches my ear, I’ll stop what I’m doing and add it to a playlist. So no, I feel like there’s always music nearby. I literally schedule in walks so [I have time when] I don’t listen to music. There’s always music on in my life.
Do you ever get to a point where you need to reconnect to why you do what you do, or where your passion for music and events comes from?
Yeah, definitely. There have been times, especially on a really hard day—where maybe someone’s being very demanding or unfair—where I’m like ‘Why am I doing this?’. What I usually do is I’ll write down all my anger in my Notes [App], as if I’m about to send someone a really nasty text. Then I’ll go to sleep and by the next day, that feeling will have passed. I would never send it, it always stays in my notes, but it’s like when a friend pisses you off. You’re not going to go off at them, but you still need to let it out somehow. [Either that] or I’ll rant to my Mum, like ‘You’ll never believe what just happened!’.
There have definitely been days where I’ve questioned what I’m doing. There have been times when I’ve gone and applied for bar jobs, because I’ve [reached the point of being] like ‘Fuck this’. It’s a really hard job and it can be really hard to realign yourself with your love for it sometimes until something really good comes along. I’ll be in a hole for, like, three days and then something great will happen, and I’ll be like ‘Yes, this is why I’m doing it!’. Because I know that, I’m mentally prepared for when maybe I am a bit down. I also [bear in mind] how hard I’ve worked to get here. And what also helps a lot, which it shouldn’t, is when other people say ‘You’re doing so well! You’re smashing it!’. It always comes when I need it the most, it’s so nice.
I always think women in particular are really good at doing that for each other.
I don’t really come across many women artist managers, but whenever I have it’s like [gasp], and then we’re besties. I’m like ‘You get it’. It’s great.
Are there any examples that come to mind of times when you might have felt particularly conscious—or when someone’s made you feel particularly conscious—of being a woman or a young woman in the industry?
There is a lot of sexism in the music industry and I’ve definitely come across it [personally]. I think I’m also very dismissive of it though, which maybe I shouldn’t be, because I’ll go away and later think ‘Actually…’. I don’t think it’s ever affected my work, though there have been times that I’ve been working in a team and someone’s talked to me in a certain way and I’ve been like ‘Hmm…’. I find it difficult to know when to speak up about it though. I find that really difficult.
I can completely relate to that feeling of not knowing when to speak up.
I’ve noticed it in people a lot older than me, who’ve [almost] talked down to me. It’s really hard, and sometimes you go away like ‘Yeah, I probably should have stood up for myself then’. But you can’t then go back and be like ‘Yeah, you know that thing you said? I’ve had a think about it and actually…’. I’ve got this thing in me too where I feel like I need to be this boss woman who doesn’t get bothered by things, but I also want to stick up for [myself and] other women in the industry. It’s like a battle in my head. It’s so complex. Luckily, I’ve not dealt with anything too terrible.
More generally, with you talking about values earlier, how much do you think your personal identity affects or contributes to your work? And on a similar note, how much would you say your work has encouraged you to grow and evolve personally?
Oh my god, I think I’ve gotten my business as far as I have because of my personality. I know that sounds really egotistical, but I think my networking, my communication, how I work and how I support people has really helped my business. I think my personality is a big [factor], so I try to let that show as much as possible in my work.
With how my work’s affected me… Probably my confidence and how I deal with conflict. I’m very diplomatic now, very calm. I also used to experience really bad social anxiety and now I think that’s not as bad, although I think having the business front… Like, if I go into a work space, I’m ‘business Molly’, which [acts] like a mask for my anxiety, whereas if I go out as just ‘Molly’, suddenly I’m like ‘Ah, this is so scary!’.
I think sometimes—especially with events—if you’re there for work, you almost feel like you’ve got a reason to be there, which I know can be quite comforting for me at times.
You don’t have to [pretend you’re waiting for your friends when] no one’s coming! It’s definitely helped with going to events on my own. Now I feel confident going to an event and just standing there alone.
What would you consider the most rewarding and the most frustrating parts of the work that you do?
I think one of the most rewarding things has been getting in at Band on the Wall and seeing Elephunk grow into what it is. Having people be like ‘I’ve heard of that!’. I think the most frustrating thing is having people not understand how much work you’ve done for them and take it for granted. That’s definitely frustrating.
Do you ever feel like your work’s affected how you engage with music more generally?
If I listen to something that’s far [enough removed] from the genres that I work in, I find that quite chill. I’m not thinking about work things. People do ask me a lot about music now though. Even with dating… If they don’t have a good taste in music, I really don’t care! [But] I’ve just joined the dating apps and people will be like ‘So here’s my demo…’. Not even a ‘Hey’! Just ‘Here’s my demo, I’d love to know what you think’. It’s a lot, [although] there have been two people that I’ve booked at my events that I’ve met through a dating app. It’s crazy, because I was like ‘You’re actually really good!’. But I do find it really bizarre.
Wow! That takes some confidence.
I know! I’m like ‘OK, I’m guessing no date…’ [Otherwise,] if I’m [on a night] out, I feel like people are very conscious of what I think of a venue’s music. I’m like ‘This is good, I’m happy’ but they’re always like ‘Are you sure?’. I think people think I’m a snob about music now and I don’t know why. I’m like ‘I love everything, it’s great, let’s just have a good time!
Do you find you can still go to events and just enjoy them, without your mind turning to work?
I find that really difficult, but I’ve [specifically] been trying to go to events where I’m not working. There have been some events, like club nights, where I’ve [been able to] switch off, but then someone will start networking with me and then I’m like ‘How do I switch business Molly back on?’. Because business Molly and Molly are very separate people. Molly is a crazy person, [whereas] business Molly is cool and calm!
As a born and bred Mancunian, how do you feel the city functions as a base for all the different things that you do?
It’s amazing. It’s the best place. I’ve [previously] moved to Leeds and I’ve moved to London—both very different—just thinking ‘I’ll try this.’. Leeds has a great music scene, and London is great, but Manchester is the best. It’s got everything. You can [get to] where you want to go, the music scene, the community… I think that’s the main thing, the community. The community here is so strong. Those other places have great music scenes, but the community’s not as strong.
It almost feels small enough here to make an impact, whereas London seems absolutely infinite.
In London, you have the boroughs, which are like cities [in themselves]. I mean, I lived in Leeds for six months and I lived in London for six months, so I didn’t give either that much time. I was just like ‘Nope!’ straightaway. I love [visiting], but that’s it. This is going to sound so big-headed, but I also love going out in Manchester and people knowing who I am. ‘Oh my god, Molly!’ I love it! Also, being put on guest lists. That will never get old. Even though I know it’s for work, when I first started out, I’d never get that, [so it’s always] a proud moment for me.
It sounds like, in one way or another, it all comes back to that element of community, from being in bands when you were younger, to offering other artists various platforms, to seeing friends and colleagues out and about. Like maybe that’s what music is—or at least what it represents—for you? Community?
It’s all about community and I think music brings community. What would you do if you were performing to a room of just one person? It’s not the same as a load of people coming together, all looking one way, dancing. It’s all about community. That’s such a big thing that I want to create with Rebel Riot Records. Eventually, I want to have parties where people can network and are part of a family. I’m slowly building that. So yeah, all about the community.