Susan DeCartier

Susan de Cartier and her team at Toronto’s Starfish Management have had one exciting year, seeing two major projects come to fruition in time for their marquee client Blue Rodeo to celebrate their 40th year together as a band: the documentary, Blue Rodeo: Lost Together, directed by Dale Heslip, currently streaming on CBC Gem, and their very own postage stamp for Canada Post. 

Last year, the beloved country-rock act, which already is in the Canadian Music Hall of Fame and has a star on Canada’s Walk of Fame, saw the two main songwriters Jim Cuddy and Greg Keelor inducted into the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame, for such classics as “Try,” “Lost Together,” “5 Days in May,”  “Til I Am Myself Again,” and “After the Rain.”  

De Cartier — whose current company roster also includes Elliott Brood, The Sadies, Suzie Ungerleider, Skydiggers and Cuddy and Keelor’s solo careers — never had designs on a career in music. If she had been sitting on a plane all those years ago next to a law partner or veterinarian or tech entrepreneur, life could have ended up far differently for her. 

This has been a big year for you. It’s Blue Rodeo’s 40th anniversary, and not only do they have a documentary out, but they are on a postage stamp. 

It's BR40. So we hit the ground running with a whole bunch of really fun projects that we've been working on for years and years, like the documentary. We started having that documentary discussion before the pandemic [March/2020]. 

They’re all such nice guys and there hasn’t been rock star craziness, I wondered what we would learn in a film that we don’t already know, but it’s great — and there is a little drama.

In a 40-year relationship, there's always going to be some stories, for sure. But you're absolutely right. I mean, the documentary folks did hours and hours and hours and hours of interviews with us, with the band, and with adjacent folks, to create a narrative. We had a wonderful person who did all of the interviews [Ralph Chapman] and then we have a very robust archive. It's all cataloged. It's housed at the U of T [University of Toronto]. And so, we were able to have an archivist [Creem Productions hired Max Berger as archival producer] who worked on the film, and he had access to all of that and was able to round out the film.

One nice thing at the premiere screening is that many former Blue Rodeo members were in attendance. No bad blood.

It's a long past. We have a lot of former band members. Some of them came and some of them didn’t. Some of them don't even live in Toronto. But, our relationship with people didn't really end badly. Cleave [Anderson, former bassist] chose to leave; Bobby [Wiseman, former keyboardist] chose to leave; and, as founding members, those would have been the hardest band members to leave. You think, ‘Who are we now?’ You have to redefine yourself. 

It was explained really well.

Exactly. Greg [Keelor, co-frontman] just said, ‘We'll never go backwards.’ And it also tells you it's okay; bands are on a journey, and if you're in it for the long haul, you have to roll with it. 

Starfish Entertainment president Susan de Cartier (left) with long-time business partner, Jude Coombe

It doesn't get any cooler than being on a postage stamp. That is pretty incredible. How did that come to be? 

I first heard from Bronwyn Graves, director, stamp services [at Canada Post] in July 2023.  Another wonderful group of people who were a pleasure to work with. They sent me an email and said we'd like to have Blue Rodeo on a postage stamp. That was just a jump up and down and squeal moment. That's not something I can scheme. That's a gift. 

It’s not something you can pitch.

Exactly. I talked to them so much they became family. I always said, ‘You guys are my favourite call’ because it was always just wonderful and easy, and they do all the work [laughs]. They submitted all these incredible ideas for the design. There's a lot of different ways you can go with a stamp, and they have an amazing graphic arts team, but they're so collaborative. 

It looks great. I bought a few packs for people. Have you actually put one on a letter or postcard yet and mailed it to someone?

I haven't yet. I will. I bought a few of those myself. They ran out at the little post office near our office the day they were released. They'll get more obvious, but it was nice to see that it was so popular, especially here on the Danforth because Jim [Cuddy, co-frontman] lives in this neighborhood and our office is here. It felt sweet that people were so excited. Greg said, ‘We've done a lot of things, this seems to be the one that like everybody heard about.’ Everybody was reaching out and congratulating us about the stamp. We've done a lot of cool stuff over the years, but the stamp is different. It's a completely national audience, as opposed to your own fans. It was really exciting. The unveiling was fun.

You have not been managing them the full 40 years. You were not their first manager. I know you’ve told the story before, but can you recap?

I moved to Canada in late ‘88. I had been living in New York City. I was going to be a lawyer. That was my plan. I was going to go to law school. I worked at a law firm for a bit and realized I didn't want to be a lawyer.  I didn't want to be in the library and write briefs. At the same time, I was flying to Canada, to Toronto, to visit my then-boyfriend and I met Blue Rodeo's manager [John Caton] on an airplane and asked him for a job. I said, ‘I'm thinking about moving to Toronto. Can I get your card and reach out to you when I get here?’ And when I did months and months later, I found his card and gave him a call. They just had somebody quit and I started working at the front desk. That was ‘88. 

I was [age] 23, and then about a year and a half later, he [Caton] quit the business and closed up the entire shop, We had a whole bunch of bands that we managed; we had a record label, Risque Disque. He said, ‘I'm closing it all up.’  I remember I went out and I sat on the front porch and thought, ‘Damn, I'm out of a job. This is really a cool job.’ And Jim was in the office for this announcement and came out and sat down next to me and said, ‘Do you want to start up an office for us?’ If these idiots can figure it out, we can figure it out.’ And I said, ‘Okay, I'll need a fax machine [laughs].’ And it started from there. I mean, I wasn't ‘managing’ them; I didn't have that title, but there was nobody else doing it, so I kind of was. My focus was definitely putting them on the road. 

And do you feel that any idiot can manage because I don't?

Well, he was just meaning if these guys can figure it out, we can figure it out. And I think that that has really marked our whole career. We can figure it out. One of the things that was great when you're young is you don't know the rules so you don't even know the rules that you're breaking. I didn't know anybody. There wasn't MMF [Music Managers Forum]. There wasn't a network. I was pretty unknown. We were always independent of what the rest of the industry was doing.

Most people I know who are in the music business were consumed by music in their teens. I saved my lunch money to buy albums and concert tickets. How important was music to you?

I wasn't the kid who was working at the radio station in university, but music was always important to me. I was at home making mixtapes and singing along. I don't even think I realized that that could be a career. 

Managing is not easy. I’ve tried. You’re managing other human beings. What is the key?

Managing artists can be challenging because you're managing a business, but, also, you're managing personalities. I think that where management can get tricky is if you get impatient with those personalities. You have to have so much respect for the artistic process and the sensitivity that artists bring to their work. As an artist, I don't think that you can bring that sensitivity to the work, and then turn that off in your normal life; that artistic sensibility is part of the whole person. So, that can be challenging when you're dealing with managing a conflict within a band or on behalf of an artist. If a manager is impatient with that or even internally rolling their eyes at it, it's not a good job fit. 

What about boundaries? We all know about, say, Amy Winehouse and Oasis, artists with different major problems outside their art.  What should be part of the job description for a manager? Did you land on a mutual respect early on about what was work and what wasn’t?

That is a great question because I do think that that is one of the biggest challenges that managers face. First of all, I started working with Blue Rodeo and they're all responsible adults. I wasn't having 9 pm crisis calls; it just didn't happen. So very early in my career, there were very clear boundaries, but I didn't need to state them. I worked every day, so people called me at the office. If somebody calls me at home, then or now, my answer is ‘What's wrong? What's going on? What's up? What's the problem?’ It's never just to chat. and that includes the weekend. If somebody reaches out to me after hours, there's something that they need from me; they're on the road; there's a problem; something happened, and, and of course, I'm available. That was a boundary I had very early on and it's carried through to all of our clients. We already work enough, and the artists are very respectful of that. 

You have a roster of artists and there are artists that you no longer manage. It's definitely rare to manage an act for as long as you have Blue Rodeo. Even some major Canadian acts that had been with their managers for decades have quietly parted ways. Can you pinpoint why Starfish and Blue Rodeo have lasted so long together? 

Why has it worked so long? It's such a good question, it's kind of like, ‘Why did Blue Rodeo last?’ I guess, we just didn't break up.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but originally managers took, say, 20% commission. But now there's so many different payment models for a manager. They could be salaried; they could be 50-50, if there's a label. Maybe they tour more than make records in later years, so there’s less of a commission.  Do you adjust the financial agreement along the way? 

We did adjust along the way, but probably to the opposite.  I would have started working with Blue Rodeo as a salaried person and then added up to a percentage. 

Did you ever feel that because you're a woman that you didn't get respect from certain areas of the industry or that was never a factor?

You know what? I'm sure that's true. I actually found being really young and doing the job was probably a bigger impediment for me. People just didn't take me seriously and, I would say, being a woman was a challenge because everyone just thought I was somebody's girlfriend. That's what ended up happening. ‘Whose wife are you? Whose girlfriend are you? Who are you with?’  There's that assumption, especially back then. There weren't women out there doing management and I evolved into managing the band; it became obvious that that was the job I was doing. 

So, when you talk about the deal points, my structure, I increased to my favour, if you will. But, maybe, that's one of the ways in which my relationship with Blue Rodeo stayed so strong is we really functioned a bit outside of the industry. I mean, I know we're with Warner, but we're with a smaller booking agent, Kay White at Trick or Treat. 

They’ve been with her for so long.

Their entire career.

And Warner.  That's rare, too. 

Super rare. 

More common is that an act starts off with someone in their early days that gets them opportunities and launches their career, and then, for whatever reason, they are left in the dust for someone more established.  

Part of it is also that Blue Rodeo is really loyal. They're just loyal. We all were doing the work, and we all kept our heads down and just kept doing it. We are in this funny little silo, so we just stayed a little apart, a little more independent. People have reached out to Jim over the years. Tried to poach them. But what would they [Blue Rodeo] get? What are the promises that we weren't achieving? How is it going to be better? The band was like, ‘No, we're very, very satisfied.’

How can we encourage younger people and more people to get into this area of the business? It’s almost a dire situation with too much talent and not enough great managers to represent them.

Well, you're absolutely right. Part of the challenge is that a lot of artists aren't compensating their managers. They resent paying out commissions. Managers can be a lightning rod for all the problems. ‘I'm having these problems because of my manager.’ ‘My manager isn't doing this.’  ‘I don't want to pay my manager.’ And it's discouraging to not feel valued by your team, by the artists that you work with. Very discouraging. So, I do think that that is a real problem. It's hard; I don't even know the answer.

Of course, there are artists who say, ‘I’m an artist; I don't want to learn about the business,’ and I tell them, ‘Well, you're going to get screwed then, because you’ve chosen to make your art your career.’ It’s not anything any of us want to learn but we have to at least try.

That is old thinking. It's not possible to do that anymore. That idea of ‘I'm an artist and I don't want to have to do that work and I don't want to have to learn that,’ you haven't been able to do that since [the year] 2000 [laughs]. Bands need to be involved. And then, sometimes in a very hands-on way. Younger bands or developing bands, when I work with some of those bands, I expect them to do some of that work. With Blue Rodeo, we're a full-service company. They don't need to do it. we do it. But we don't do that for everybody. We can't. It's a lot of work and we don't have the funds. We're not making enough to be able to hire someone to navigate that on your behalf. You're not making any money. Our investment, it's personnel; that's where managers contribute; it's in talent contribution. 

Also, bringing in young staff who are learning the ropes and then they may or may not stay?

That's some of it. You have to also love it. You have to think, ‘Do I love this?’ Yes, I love this music and I will go see this. I could see this a hundred times this year and enjoy it every single time.’ You have to feel that way about your own artist because you have to sell it so hard. You can only bring it when you are passionate about it. But also, you have to figure out, ‘I may love this, but will other people love it? Can I see a path?’ Because sometimes there are bands who I listen to and I think, ‘I love this, but I don't quite know what I would do with it.’ That means I'm not the right manager. And then there’s bands I see and I think, ‘Oh, damn, I know exactly what I would do with this artist,’ [if I was managing them] which is exciting because then it's fun to see how other people navigate their careers. 

Let me ask you, what on earth is next for Blue Rodeo? What is left? Business as usual? I saw that they were recently performing on a week-long boat cruise in Hungary, Slovakia, Austria, and Germany

We do have a couple of things up our sleeves. It was a bit of effort to try and make the documentary and the stamp both happen in our 40th year. It definitely took some massaging behind the scenes because I really wanted these events to take place in this year of celebration.  So, we do have a couple more things coming up this summer. Those are our big, exciting things. And I'm in the midst of talking with some folks about a book [not at contract stage yet].  We have never done a book and I've always resisted that because I just didn't feel like it was the right time. And now I feel it's the right time. I feel we have an interesting story to tell, and we found some team members for that project I feel really excited about working with, which, of course, is half of it.  Part of management is finding collaborators, finding other people who we find really inspiring to work with.

Back to the ‘Why have we lasted?’  I love that question. You know why? It's not like I haven't thought about it. Why have we just stayed together all this time? It's not just ‘We didn't break up,’ — there was never a reason why we ever came close to breaking up. 

Early on, we said we would tell each other the truth, that we would be transparent, that there would be no secrets, that if something was hard to say or know, we would say it. We would share it anyway.  I think that sometimes managers try and protect their artists and it does them a disservice. You need to tell people hard things, whether it's the truth about how a promoter reacted or audience attendance or a reaction to a song or what the label really said about the single, the cover, the whatever. What are people really saying? Sometimes that's really hard; sometimes it's hard to tell artists somebody doesn't like your art. It's so personal. It's so deeply, deeply personal. But how does my massaging that or glossing it over actually serve the band? It doesn't. I mean, I don't try and inflame that, but I do think that that openness, that transparency, really helps create a foundation in a relationship, any business relationship, but especially with artists. They feel like they get it. They feel like they believe you. They can trust you. Because it's all about trust. I mean, all of these things are about trust.

Susan de Cartier (front, left) joined by Blue Rodeo, Live Nation Canada president Riley O’Connor (front centre) and Trick or Treat Entertainment’s Kay White