The blasphemous psalm Allen Klein kept on his desk
Let’s be honest: everybody loves a villain. It’s all too easy to root for the good guy to win. But the bad side appeals to our morbid curiosities, innermost shame, and psyches as we wonder how an evil character could act in such a way. In films and TV shows, villains are often more theatrical. But in real life, Allen Klein took his villainous ways to melodramatic places.
There are few music industry figures as dastardly as Klein was. At one point, he managed both The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, making him one of the most powerful men in music. But as he launched some incredibly questionable tactics, promising to give artists their power back from record labels while he, in turn, stole it from himself, he took on a looming cultural legacy as a monster of rock and roll.
He knew exactly what he was doing. As a smooth talking man with a New York accent, Klein would butter artists up by promising to get them all the money their were worth. He claimed to be fighting against record labels stealing large proportions of the profits made by artists and made it out like he was fighting on the right side. But once he had a band in his pocket, he would then become the force exploiting them and keeping sums of their money from their hands.
Of the many stories of Klein screwing people over, one of the key ones is that The Stones’ $1.25million advance from their label was planted directly into one of his business accounts with a fine print, meaning he didn’t have to give it to them for 20 years. The band would later accuse Klein of withholding royalty payments, stealing the publishing rights to their songs, and neglective to pay their taxes for five years, leading to their tax exile to France.
But even before that, there was a suspicious air about Klein that people could sense. He’d ask the band’s bassist, Bill Wyman, “Why don’t you like me, Bill?” to which he would reply simply, “Because I don’t trust you, Allen.”
The Stones weren’t the only scorned act. Some claim that Klein is the man responsible for the split of the Beatles. Once he was in the door, exploiting arguments between the members to get himself in, he fired their staff and replaced them with his own, essentially annexing the band. But even if Klein’s business dealings with the band weren’t as bad as the Stones’ experience, McCartney’s dislike of the man drove him out, splintering relationships to the point of total disrepair as the members argued over Klein’s approach and presence.
The thing was, though, that Klein seemed to get off on being so disliked. He’d spent a whole career building a legion of enemies at every turn, and he seemed to love that fact. That should’ve been clear to anyone who stepped into his office as on his desk, he had a plaque with a quote based on the 23rd Psalm, reading, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the biggest bastard in the valley.”
It’s the sort of thing that would be seen in a comedy film, as Klein feels like a caricature of a villainous music manager. But for the band’s he managed to swindle, his evil was very real.
