It’s an easily fathomable idea for many artists and creative types in this day that if you’re looking for self-affirmation or positivity about your work, do not go looking for it on the internet. That’s where trolls, hacks, naysayers, and keyboard warriors hang out to gleefully rip you—and in some cases your life’s work—to shreds.
A few years ago when former rock record producer Tom Werman was surfing the net (it’s still a valid phrase, folks), he came across a piece that was about one of his acts, Mötley Crüe.
But the post seemed to take more issue with Werman’s production on their albums, describing him as “a guy with a hard rock resume and a soft rock mind” before delving into various personal and professional criticisms.
Hacked, Werman asked the website host if he could write a rebuttal, which he did, and it ran. That led to a series of columns for the site. Which then led to Werman writing his own memoir, Turn It Up! My Time Making Hit Records in the Glory Days of Rock Music (240 pp., $24.95, Jawbone Press).
Early on, there was no indication that Tom Werman would ever be involved with the music industry as its peak of influence and decadence in the ‘70s and ‘80s. He was a nice Jewish boy who did what his parents wanted: going to prep school, earning an Ivy League MBA, and pegged for a white collar career in an office building where he donned a suit and tie every day to work at an ad agency.
So, when he decided that life wasn’t for him but something in the music biz was, he took the leap. He wrote an unsolicited letter to CBS Records President Clive Davis, which led to a job.
Yeah, that type of thing could actually happen back in the day.
As an A&R man for Epic Records was the conduit between the talent and the company, Werman had a big hand in signing acts to the label and promoting their early careers including REO Speedwagon, Boston, Ted Nugent, Cheap Trick and Molly Hatchet.
He soon slipped into the mode of Producer, sitting behind the boards and guiding some three albums apiece for Nugent, Cheap Trick, and Molly Hatchet—all of which were among their then (and still) best-selling efforts like Cat Scratch Fever, Dream Police, and Flirtin’ with Disaster.
Werman writes his belief that 1970s Ted Nugent was focused, funny, smart, reasonable, dedicated and much more “normal” than the 21st century’s hard right wing, liberal-baiting, Trump-loving conservative of today. He even tried to teach Werman to use a bow and arrow for hunting, the Motor City Madman’s favorite pastime for sport and sustenance.
Werman was also a champion of acts including KISS, Rush and Lynyrd Skynyrd, but couldn’t convince higher ups to take an interest in them—something which assuredly led to a lot of open-palms-to-head slapping actions.
When he went freelance in the ‘80s, Werman became something of a go-to guy for hair/pop metal acts, producing for Mötley Crüe (Shout at the Devil, Theatre of Pain, Girls, Girls, Girls), Twisted Sister (Stay Hungry), Poison (Open Up and Say…Ahh!), all also among their best sellers.
Throughout the book, Werman weaves tales of all these bands both in and out of the studio, reflecting the excess of the day. (Note: Southern rockers Molly Hatchet put the Crüe’s shenanigans to shame).
That was a time long gone when record companies were minting money and he had a company credit card and few limits on what he could use it for as a “business expense.” (Go to Australia to scout a band? Sure! Expensive dinners and booze? Why not?).
In fact, Werman says he was chastised for not using his card enough or choosing more cost-effective ways to get thing done. Made his coworkers look bad by comparison, he says he was told.
Werman himself admits he had an eye (and nose) for cocaine but says he didn’t abuse his privileges nearly as much has those around him. On the technical side, Turn it Up! does a significant service in that Werman lays out exactly what it is a “record producer” actually does, and does not. And how the producer’s work can influence on many levels the final product you hear coming out of your speakers.
Interestingly, despite the massive commercial success of some of his projects, Werman seems to have rubbed some of his former clients very much the wrong way. Cheap Trick’s Rick Nielsen and Mötley Crüe’s Nikki Sixx regularly slag him and his abilities off in interviews, even to this day.
And Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider claims he “ruined” the group, watered down their sound and helped seed internal dissension. That last one’s hard to fathom as Werman produced “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Rock”—the group’s two best known numbers which still bring sizable royalty checks and appear in a lot of film and TV some nearly 40 years after their release.
Werman didn’t always have the magic touch, as he lists a number of bands he worked with that never went anywhere. Ever hear of Robey, Falk, and Bod? Orchestra Luna? Gary Myrick and the Figures? Likewise, he could not pump blood into the latter careers of LA Guns, Lita Ford or Stryper.
When Tom Werman saw the future of new music—and it was not in Classic Rock or Hair Metal—he left the record biz and retired with his wife to Massachusetts where today they operate a luxury bed & breakfast.
But anytime you hear “Surrender,” “Cat Scratch Fever,” “Dream Police,” “Every Rose Has Its Thorn,” “Girls, Girls, Girls,” “Stranglehold,” “Home Sweet Home,” or “Flirtin’ with Disaster” on the radio, just know that the nice Jewish boy who helped make them was not putting that MBA degree to its intended use.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2023.
