Can't Touch This: Memoir of a Disillusioned Music Executive

Hollywood, California. October 1988. “I’m afraid I’ve placed you in an untenable situation.” When you’re summoned by the company president and he starts the conversation with that, you know it’s not going to end well. He was firing me. I wasn’t surprised. But by the time the president sent for me, my ability to sign a sellable act was no longer a question mark. My first platinum act was about to blow past one million units sold. The decision to fire me, at the very least, was poorly timed. ...