Beginning in the mid-‘60s and for decades afterward, if there was a concert in New York City or nearby environs, you would likely know the name of Ron Delsener.
Be it at Carnegie Hall, Madison Square Garden, or scores of theaters, dive clubs, and even Central Park, his ubiquitous moniker would appear at the top of advertisements, posters, tickets, press releases, and mentioned on the radio. Even before the musical acts themselves.
A relentless hustler, phone-worker, back slapper, berater, and backstage presence, Delsener was THE man of music in the Big Apple and a character richer than many of the acts he promoted for six decades.
The fascinating life, career, and relationships of the now 88-year-old but still spry sprite is the subject of the new documentary Ron Delsener Presents. It will have a local screening on June 18 at the Alamo Drafthouse La Centerra in Katy.
“I’ve had an awareness of Ron and his importance for a long time. He always had a presence, and was one of these figures who could walk into a room and have a story about everybody,” says director and co-producer Jake Sumner via Zoom.
The doc follows Delsener himself in a whirlwind of fast-paced activity, perhaps the most energetic octogenarian one would ever encounter, when after a full day in the office he could still hit four or five shows in a night, if only for a drop in. And he poses as many questions to the camera following him as he is asked.
“You didn’t know where it’s gonna go or what you’re gonna get. And with Ron being so mercurial, it was a very hard film to make,” Sumner continues. “We didn’t know what Ron we were going to get on any given day. I think his life is a bit of a performance, so we just added cameras. He didn’t have to alter much for us to get great footage.”
Or, as Gene Simmons of KISS puts it onscreen, “He didn’t play guitar, but he acted like a rock star.”
The promoter’s place in the music biz is a precarious one. If things work out after all expenses are paid, then the promoter gets what’s left. It’s a gamble each and every time. “It’s a numbers game, that’s all it is,” Delsener himself says in the doc. “It’s a gambler’s business, and you have to have the guts to stick it out.” While another interviewee opines “Ron was borderline bankrupt all the time.”
Ron Delsener grew up idolizing not the performers on any give stage, but the promoters behind the scene who made things happen like Sol Hurok. In the case of concerts, the promoter is the guy who puts the money up for the act, rents the venue, pays the people working it, and handles handling advertising and promotion and ticket sales.
Working under promoter Drew Friedman, Delsener’s career started to take off when the pair promoted the Beatles New York area concerts in 1964. Always thinking outside the box, Delsener purchased the entire contents of the Beatles’ rooms at the Riviera hotel, then sold or auctioned off its contents to frenetic fans.
Beatles-slept-in bedsheets were cut up into tiny squares proffered with a “certificate of authenticity.” He even found buyers for squashed up cigarette butts and half-empty drinking glasses that (may) have touched the lips of Paul or Ringo. Or anybody else in the room.
Soon, he was heading up his own company and grabbing every show he could in the New York area. Including a successful series in Central Park presenting everyone from Jimi Hendrix to Benny Goodman—where nobody thought to have shows—for the ticket price of $1. His David Bowie shows at Carnegie Hall helped finally break Ziggy Stardust to U.S. audiences. When Simon & Garfunkel reunited for the Central Park show in 1981, Ron’s hands were all over it.
Sumner was able to film an impressive list of musicians to talk about Delsener, including Billy Joel, Patti Smith, Bruce Springsteen, Steven Van Zandt, Jon Bon Jovi, Art Garfunkel, Paul Simon, Paul Stanley, Jimmy Buffett, Cher and many more.
“Getting acts to participate in the film was one of the easier things because so many of them started their careers through Ron booking them. And having Ron Delsener as your promoter was what you aspired for if you wanted to break into New York City,” Sumner says.
Or, as Bruce Springsteen puts it in his footage, “Every time you went to New York, you knew you were going to see Ron Delsener, he’s going to take care of you at the gig, and you were going to have a good time.” Delsener would grow especially close to Billy Joel and Paul Simon.
One of the more interesting aspects of Ron Delsener Presents charts how different promoters across the country would each have their own “fiefdom” of exclusivity for shows in certain cities. Set up much like the Mafia, and under the direction of Frank Barsalona, the literal Godfather of Promoting, men usually stuck to their geographic territories. mostly eschewing competition.
“Frank created these territories, and it is funny how it’s similar to the structure of organized crime. But you had to do that to be profitable,” Sumner notes. “If it’s too competitive or cutthroat an everyone is screwing each other over, you’re not going to get very far. But if everyone has a piece of the pie and everyone eats, that you’ll grow.”
It worked for many years until it became unwieldy and corporations like SFX, which became Clear Channel, which became Live Nation, began to handle everything nationally and in a one-stop shop.
As performer guarantees and ticket prices soared, having a national business organization looking at the bottom line and with enough money to back it all was the next logical step.
That’s where the industry is today—for good or bad. Delsener certainly saw the writing on the wall, and in 1996 was the “first domino” of independent promoters to fall as he sold his company to the then-named SFX, while still keeping his hand in active promotion.
The doc also delves into Delsener’s somewhat messy personal life. He fumbled on his first date with wife Ellen by taking her to the Playboy Club, but they’ve been married for over 55 years. Even though as the doc notes she keeps a separate apartment during the week because his lifestyle is too frenetic.
Daughter Samantha talks frankly about his frequent absences growing up and calls her father “a loner.” Sumner’s lens captures a somewhat awkward dinner with the pair. Both women talk about Delsener as being the ultimate workaholic for whom there seems to be no “down time” or stillness.
Delsener “retired” from promotion in 2022. But as the doc shows, that didn’t stick, and he’s shown still working the phones, pleading and wheedling and chasing for the next “get.” Though he admits to “living in the past,” sifting through basements, attics, and storage units of ephemera collected over the years in a massive archive.
“Here’s Neil Young,” he says, pulling out a gig poster from a long-gone show. “I made $167 on that show.”
Sumner say he was very nervous showing the completed film to Delsener himself. An arranged preview screening—in which the subject could air any issues or problems he had with the work—fell through. So, the first time Ron Delsener actually saw Ron Delsener Presents was with a full audience at the Tribeca Film Festival.
Ironically, Delsener’s attention was focused elsewhere.
“He was more concerned about the seating assignments and the food and the cocktail event after. The film itself was like this other component!” Sumner laughs. He then talks about the open-ended ending.
“I don’t think Ron will ever retire. He’s still working the phones and will book a show here and there. It’s what he loves and what he knows. It’s what keeps him happy,” Sumner sums up of the man who will turn 89 next month.
“For some, work is a means to live the rest of their lives and for others the work is the life. For Ron, it’s the latter.”
Ron Delsener Presents will screen on June 18 at 7 p.m. the Alamo Drafthouse LaCenterra in Katy, 2707 Commercial Center. For more call 281-492-6900 or visit Drafthouse.com/Houston.
For more on the documentary, visit RonDelsenerPresentsFilm.com
