Managing to Make Music 

Lans sat down with their cousin Jayden Keoghan, founder and managing director of August Avenue who represents artists such as Bic Runga, Borderline, Kimbra, and Sol3 Mio. Waikato raised, Keoghan talked about how you can become an artist in Aotearoa, what managers are looking for, and some inspiring words for any aspiring artists to get out there.

Are there specific things you look for when signing new artists?
I’m about art first, I don’t care about the numbers. And I think a lot of people, when signing acts (whether a label, management, or a booking agent), sometimes get tied up with the numbers but for me I have to love the art first. I can’t really represent you unless I love it. It has to be something that really connects with me, or at the least I can see it connecting with other people at a bare minimum. If it doesn’t resonate with me but I can see it resonating with other people and I can see people becoming fans of it— I think that fan connection is so important.

More tangibly than that, songwriting. If an artist can write themselves and write great songs without any help, then that’s a real strength. If it’s an artist who has a really great voice and is really talented musically but can’t write songs, then I find it hard to think about the real commercial way to go (pairing them with a songwriter)— I’m too much of a purist.

How do you know who to sign?
They have got to want it more than I do. I always say to the artists we represent and are talking to, “you’ve got to want to get out of bed more than I want you to get out of bed”. Because it has to be self-driven. You’ve got to really want it, because it’s not easy. It’s that passion of “I need to do this” not “I want to do this because I want to be a star”.

My wife [award winning illustrator Angela Keoghan], always talks about her greatest joy is when she can sit down with a Moleskine, a pencil, having a cup of tea, and draw. No one’s paying her to do that, she has to do it, it’s like, “I haven’t drawn today, I got to sit down and draw”; I know it’s the same for musicians and songwriters. If that drive and want is there, then that’s one of the biggest things I look for. Of course, talent and ability are important, but I don’t think that drive and desire is paramount. If an artist came to me and sold me on how much they want it, and I can see that the talent is there— a bit rough around the edges— but will get better with some support and a format, then that’s worth so much.

How do you “make it” in the music scene of Aotearoa?
It’s such a small market, compared to the rest of the world. I represent artists that are house-hold names in New Zealand and also artists that are just starting. And I think it’s changed so much over the years; it used to be that you could launch and have a really strong career here and that would be fine. But, unless your Six60, LAB, or Stan Walker (Theres a few acts in those lanes), they can have something real significant going on here that can be sustainable. For most others, it needs to be beyond these shores. Going back to that fan connection, you “make it” in NZ if you really connect with people. That’s why bands like Six60 and L.A.B. have really done well here, because they really connect with people, people love them, and people buy their tickets. That thing of “how do you make it here”, if you can connect with middle NZ, then you can make it here. If you’re outside of middle NZ I don’t think you can make it here, you’ll need your audience somewhere else and then have your niche audience here.

The band, Unknown Mortal Orchestra (UMO), are amazing. Bic Runga’s [an artist Keoghan represents] husband, Cody [Neilson] is part of UMO. They are globally amazing, they played Laneway across Australasia, they travel and do shows all around the world. Yet, they don’t do much here at all, it’s kind of like only those who know, know them here, but they’re insane and have a great audience all around the world. So, to make it here, connect with middle New Zealand or have a big campaign with the All Blacks (or something [of that calibre]) that kind of gets you [out there].

What were the first few steps you took to begin your management company?
I started working with Kimbra when she was 13 (now she has a couple Grammys, lives in New York), and all the championing artists was always something that was really a passion of mine and trying to create pathways for artists. Years ago, [Keoghan’s wife] and I were doing a bunch of work in Hong Kong and Jono — one of my business partners — was living in Singapore and we started talking about creating August Avenue then as a way to support artists and friends that were in bad deals, because they would sign contracts and they needed to get out of those deals and they were coming to us for advice. We were like, “we need to do this more than just helping our friends”, so we created a management company that can really properly support artists. What we saw was that there was a lot of management companies that were like a one-man-band and a lot of the deals that were falling over were because there was one person couldn’t look after it all and didn’t necessarily have a skill set to do it really. So, we brought in some other business partners that were great on the live production touring, radio and media, and brought them into the team. And created our management companies that needed our powers combined, kind of looking after each of the key areas. That was back in 2011 in terms of conversation, 2012 was when we properly launched it.

I guess the steps were, we were looking after our friends that were in bad deals and trying to support them through that time. Seeing that it was a need to support artists in a different way, so let’s put a management team together that brought a bunch of different skill sets together so we didn’t repeat some of the failings of other management options that we’ve seen. Then we started working with our friends, looking after artists that we already had a really close relationship with. And working with people and partnerships that we had similar values, high trust, who were industry respected, and that we had high accountability with everyone as well.

How did you start Late 80’s Mercades?
Our guitarist, James, and I were in a couple other bands, and we were jamming and had done all sorts of different stuff. We started playing background jazz at the Novatel in Hamilton on Friday nights from 5:30pm-9:30pm, so four hours of background jazz for people who would have a drink, some dinner, and stuff.

It started as a three piece and there was a record label called Solid State Records, and we all had Solid State hoodies— it was a hardcore label— so we called ourselves the Solid State Trio because [of our hoodies]. And then we kept playing Novatel Friday nights playing background jazz, a few other of our friends joined in and jammed with us as well. From memory, we were standing in the middle of town, James said, “Puff drives a Mercedes, takes us from the 80’s, late 80’s Mercedes” and we were like “that’s a great band name.”— I don’t want to talk about Puff Daddy because we don’t need to talk about him— but that rap was the inspiration, “Puff drives a Mercedes, takes us from the 80’s” then James said “Late 80’s Mercedes” and that was it. It went from being a three— or four— piece band playing background jazz to now being a 13 piece.

How do you start profiting off music in Aotearoa? Is it luck, or tactical?
I think it’s equal doses of both, because you have to be tactical and have a plan and be really intentional and purposeful with it. But there is also this kind of beautiful chemistry and luck. Timing is everything with art and music. Like you could have created something 10 years ago and it might not have resonated, but you create it now and it does, or vice versa. It defiantly feels like you can’t have fortuitous moments unless you do plan.

The tactical side of it is going “I want to create a management company that supports artists”, there’s artists lead, so the values and the core of why you do it is already foundational. And then choosing artists that you believe in and working with artists that you believe in that you can represent because you think they’ve got the goods to take on the world and then you pursue everything you can to get that art in front of people. And then the luck stuff plays out in some ways because you have been really intentional with the plan and the tactics to get there.

Even though there’s no formular, you can see the pathway of, “if I do this and this and this”, to give us the best chance to get this to resonate and connect with people. Using great tactics so you can set yourself up with good opportunity and then luck. I don’t think there’s substance and longevity in a viral “luck” moment without any plan behind it. I’ve seen people and labels all over the world grab stuff that has blown up on TikTok thought the pandemic and taking it on thinking it’s going to be huge and its fallen flat and they’ve let all those people go. So, luck without a plan doesn’t necessarily transpire that well.

What’s the difference between commercial & underground in Aotearoa in terms of sound?
It’s so subjective. I grew up listening to New York hardcore and punk. Skating and playing in those kinds of bands. And so much of it was underground but there was a scene, shows were heaving. You skated, you went to shows; the culture and the scene that was around that music was thriving. And while it was kind of underground, thriving, and did well, the only thing that differentiated it from being commercial was that it didn’t get mainstream media to make it really commercial. But it was kind of commercial in its own rights.

Now I think you can still have underground and left of centre, but for it to still be commercially viable. So, I don’t know if [underground and commercial] are mutually exclusive. I think probably the challenge that I have around answering that question is “is underground meant to be not commercially viable” or can underground be commercially viable. Can you make a living off your art if you’re underground? I would hope you could, it would be awesome if all artists could make a living with their work. They don’t necessarily have to be on commercial radio stations to be commercially viable; they can still sell 10s of thousands of tickets and be “underground” but it’s still commercially viable. It’s a really interesting thing because I remember when NZ radio didn’t play L.A.B., and it wasn’t until [In the Air]. They were selling thousands of tickets and The Edge started playing them because the people basically spoke, and they couldn’t not play it. And the biggest hook in [In the Air] was a bassline, not even the melody. But it was purely because so many people loved it, they were selling so many tickets that radio couldn’t not play it.

I guess my answer to the question is I would pursue creating music that means something to you and pursue it wholeheartedly and finding your audience, rather than going, “I’ve got to write for a commercial outlet”. The goal shouldn’t be, “I’m gonna write music that gets on The Edge”, they goal is, “I’m gonna write music that connects with fans, and because it connects with fans, The Edge will play it.” So, it’s forcing the commercial media outlet because there’s fans engaged. Like you could be writing the most obscure stuff and in two years’ time it becomes the mainstream commercial.

Do you think NZ will ever see anything like 90s Flying Nun Records again?
Without sounding ageist, if I said Seattle grunge scene; Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana, the list goes on. I think it was around 1990/91 all those albums came out within a month of each other. I remember queuing up for all of them at a record store here [Hamilton]. Got Rage Against the Machine self-titled album, bought the album and a t-shirt, got Pearl Jam Ten, Nirvana Nevermind, and Stone Temple Pilots. They all came out within a month of each other it was crazy. I remember getting it and going “this is a moment in time everyone will remember” and everyone does refer to the Seattle grunge scene and those bands that came out there. The Dunedin thing [Flying Nun Records] was also it’s established thing. I think there’s opportunity for New Zealand, or pockets of NZ, to shape sounds globally at any given time.

Depending on how you go about it, maybe you could say The Beths are an Auckland sound in terms of a lo-fi guitar band from New Zealand. There could be, sometime in the next 10 years, a bunch of people that come out of music storm Wellington like Drax Project went between jazz school and commercial music in terms of the band and what they studied, and they got together and created Drax Project. But no one looks at that and goes “oh, it’s a Wellington sound.” But it encapsulates them going to different universities and studying music in Wellington until they come together creating what they created.

I defiantly think there is an opportunity for it, because the world down at New Zealand and goes, “what’s in the water, you guys are making amazing stuff”. You’ve got Lorde, Kimbra, Flight of the Conchords, Lord of the Rings, you’re amazing at sport, all these things that happen. So, there’s defiantly opportunity for [a new “sound”] but it just comes out of kids making stuff and getting together and creating a scene. The only reason the Dunedin sound was good was there was a bunch of musicians that got together and just created music while going to university there. The chances of it happening again just come down to people being excited about writing and creating. Theres no shortage of eyeballs on this part of the world. Jury’s out but I think there’s an opportunity for that to happen because there is something magical in the water.