How Tony Wilson became the Brian Epstein of Manchester
It’s rare to declare that any one single person changed music forever. It’s a huge claim to land on someone’s shoulders, and very few people’s legacies can hold that weight. However, in the cases of Brian Epstein and Tony Wilson, their stories are strong enough, as they are two managers who undeniably changed music, putting whole scenes on the map and launching history-shaping acts.
Involved in the local music scene through a roundabout sort of way, being connected to the music industry but new to the management game, convincing acts to take a chance on them through untraditional promises and then having that promise more than pay off when the band hit the big time – that’s the story of both Epstein and Wilson.
In Epstein’s case, he played a major role in the Liverpool music scene through his family’s music store, NEMS, as he began to sell records there. Creating a close relationship with record labels as he bought albums from them, building up a good and trusted reputation, Epstein had an in, but not a traditional kind of in.
The same story stands for Wilson. At first, he was a journalist, working on news and culture stories. As he’s reported on musical goings on, it’s a similar back-door type into the industry as Epstein had. People knew his name, they trusted his tastes, he had just enough connections to potentially pull off a coup; and in 1978, when he launched Factory Records and signed his first artist, he did.
Obviously, the type of music that Epstein and Wilson handled was very different. While Epstein was operating in the early days of rock and roll and was himself pretty new to this blossoming youthful sound, Wilson was also hearing the dawning of something new. In the late 1970s and early ‘80s, he was witnessing a post-punk start-up. Two very different genres that may well stand on the exact opposite end of the spectrum, but it is the way the two men operated, their bold business moves and their ability to pioneer a whole new scene that ties them together.
In January 1962, Brian Epstein presented The Beatles with a contract without his signature. Knowing that he was new to being a manager and that he was asking the band to take a leap of faith in him, he offered them an unconventional contract that really meant nothing at all. Without his signature, it put the band fully in control, as he explained, “Well, if they ever want to tear it up, they can hold me, but I can’t hold them.”
While Wilson’s story is far more extreme, as he decided to draw up Joy Division’s contract in his own blood as a way to show his dedication, it was the exact same sentiment and reasoning. He was a newbie, too; he was asking for trust, and so he earned it by keeping all the power and control in the artist’s hands. Their contract read, “The company owns nothing, the musicians own their music and everything they do, and all artists have the freedom to fuck off”, which is basically the 1970s, slightly more aggressive translation of Epstein’s sentiment.
In both cases, the artists’ trust in the two managers steered them to greatness. The Beatles became a global, history-shaking phenomenon. Joy Divison are also in the history books, pioneering a new sound and releasing music that delivered their vision completely undiluted, as Wilson promised to allow. But beyond their two debut artists, both Epstein and Wilson’s impact is so much wider.
Off the back of The Beatles’ success, Liverpool was put on the map. Merseybeat became the hot new sound of the moment as people wanted to hear more and more from Scousers. Even still today, the city remains a hot spot for music fans and music makers, with music now written into the location’s identity and legacy. That wouldn’t have happened without Epstein, his decision to sign The Beatles and bring more acts from the area onto his roster, like Gerry and the Pacemakers, Cilla Black and more. He elevated the whole area by raising up their artists, turning the city into a place to be and a true scene.
God knows Wilson did the same for his home town, as he’s the man behind Madchester. Beyond even his work with other key Mancunian acts on Factory Records, like Happy Mondays, A Certain Ratio and later New Order after Ian Curtis’ death, the opening of his club, the Hacienda, was a truly history-making move. With the club and the bands, Wilson essentially single-handedly set the sound of the city, and as he boosted his acts to global notoriety, he put Manchester on the map as the new musical location of the 1980s and ‘90s.
Both were men who led with passion. Neither one had the typical experience necessary or the proven skills tradition would demand, but both proved that truly caring about what you’re doing and giving it your all because of that can yield results. It’s like the enthusiasm and drive of both lit up their whole local scene, causing the rest of the country and world to see it glow and hear its talent.
