Anything for a hit An A & R woman's story of surviving the music industry

"WHEN IS THE MUSIC INDUSTRY going tO have its #MeToo moment?" That's a question I've seen asked repeatedly, in articles and Facebook groups. My answer: Our moment has been happening for decades, at least since Tina Tlirner and Ronnie Spector fled their famous spousal collaborators and published eye-opening memoirs documenting the violence they suffered. There has been a steady stream of accounts of assault, harassment and discrimination in recording studios, at record labels and at music magazines; pick up any autobiography of a female musician and you'll find at least one anecdote that will turn your stomach. R. Kelly, the Runaways, Kesha - stories of abuse long preceded Harvey Weinstein, and continue to trigger news alerts. The real question should be, why haven't these stories provoked more outrage against a form of oppression that is clearly systemic, along with a push for change? Part of the problem is that people have short memories. That may be why Turner has written a second memoir 32 years after the bombshell revelations of "I, Tina." Ostensibly, "My Love Story" is occasioned by recent events in the rock 'n' roll icon's life: her 2013 marriage to her longtime partner Erwin Bach, and her subsequent health problems, including kidney failure and cancer. But more than a third of this book is about the first 27 years of her life, from the time Anna Mae Bullock was born in a hospital near her hometown, Nutbush, Tenn., through her transformation into the soul dynamo Tina Turner, to the day that she finally had the strength to leave her husband, Ike Turner. The gist of the material in this part of "My Love Story" was included in "I, Tina" and has become an intrinsic part of the Tina Tlirner narrative: A teenage Bullock grabs the microphone at an Ike Himer show in St. Louis; he, eight years older than Anna Mae, recognizes her talent and makes her part of his band; they marry but their relationship is based on economic exploitation, not romance ("What's Love Got to Do With It" would become one of Tina's biggest hits as a solo artist and the name of a biopic about her); and he keeps her dependent on him through gross, violent tyranny. This is, of course, an iteration of a classic artistic myth, as old as the Svengali character in George du Maurier's 1894 novel "Trilby" and as recent as the fourth version of "A Star Is Born." That Tlirner's story is an archetype doesn't make it any less true, or harrowing. For their wedding reception, according to "Love Story," Ike took his young bride to a sex show at a Mexican brothel. He blatantly had affairs, often bringing his mistresses on the road with him. And he repeatedly, viciously battered his wife. Unlike "I, Tina," which was written with the journalist (and former MTV News anchor) Kurt Loder using a sort of Rashomon chorus of voices, "My Love Story" is told entirely from Turner's point of view with the help of the co-authors Deborah Davis and Dominik Wichmann. Her years with Ike remain the most fascinating part of her story. She also takes advantage of the passage of time to reflect on her relationship with him, trying to understand his motives and her own: "Why, I wonder, didn't Ike treat me better? That sounds just like one of Ike's songs, but it was true. He couldn't have been thinking rationally. If he had been kind to me, if he'd been caring and respectful, I would have wanted to stay." She realizes that his violence against her was part of his own self-destruction. "Ike was always his own worst enemy. He destroyed anything that was good." Turner, who has been a committed Buddhist for decades, comes off as neither sensationalistic nor self-serving. "My Love Story" doesn't carry the literary value that Loder's historic descriptions provided, but for a famous sex symbol who has turned a tragedy into a fairy tale, Turner is charmingly down to earth. After Tina's emancipation, "My Love Story" chronicles her success as a solo singer in the 1980s (some of which was covered in "I, Tina") and career highlights, including her Kennedy Center Honors award in 2005 and the recent play based on her life, "Tina: The Tina Tlirner Musical." She also discusses the devastating loss of her son Craig to suicide, describing him as a "troubled soul" but without coming to terms with the effects that her constant absence and violent domestic life with Ike must have had on her children. Mostly the book is about her love affair with Bach, a German record producer 16 years her junior. They built an idyllic life in Europe, replete with French villas, Swiss chalets and an extravagantly romantic wedding. Then, three months after their nuptials, Turner suffered a stroke, the first of a string of serious ailments that almost killed her and that she has kept secret until now. In this second half of her life story, love has everything to do with it: Tlirner's first husband beat her ruthlessly; her second husband gave her one of his kidneys. One question goes unanswered in both of Tlirner's books. Many people must have known what was happening between Ike and Tina, who frequently had black eyes and visible bruises. Did no one intervene? Why did record labels, promoters and performers tolerate seeing a talent clearly and repeatedly abused? Were they all like the pinball wizard in "Tommy" - the rock opera in which Turner portrayed the Acid Queen - deaf, dumb and blind? "ANYTHING FOR A HIT: An A&R Woman's Story of Surviving the Music Industry" goes a long way toward explaining the culture of misogyny that, at best, looked the other way as women were mistreated and, at worst, cultivated abuse. Dorothy Carvello worked for pretty much all the major labels beginning with Atlantic in 1987, and her experiences range from sad to horrific. She got her start as a secretary for the Atlantic co-founder Ahmet Ertegun, an industry legend. It was a seemingly great opportunity that she basically never got over. In Carvello's telling, Ertegun was a sex fiend and coke addict who tried to grope her on a couple of occasions and at one point fractured her arm. Of course, like any skilled predator, he could also be charming and hilarious. They remained friends until his death in 2006. Carvello is what we English professors like to call an unreliable narrator, and she would be the first to admit it. Over and over she put herself into dysfunctional relationships, trying to be one of the boys. She can be funny in her selfdeprecation. Describing the first of many nights Ertegun took her to a strip club, she writes that one of the performers thrust her breasts into Carvello's face: "What a way to make a living, I thought, and I didn't mean the stripper." Carvello doesn't throw herself a pity party; instead, "Anything for a Hit" is an indictment of a sleazy and corrupt industry. It's not news that sex and drugs went hand in hand with rock 'n' roll, but what this book reveals is how damaging the power dynamics of that party atmosphere could be even for a woman who was willing to play along. Carvello names names fearlessly, taking aim at some of the biggest men in the business, showing us where the (naked) bodies are buried. One thing missing from this memoir, which could provide some light in all the darkness and strengthen our trust in the narrator, is music. Carvello never shows any sense of wonder at hearing a great song or discovering a beautiful voice. Her greatest claim to fame as a woman who has spent most of her career scouting talent is bringing the hair metal band Skid Row to Atlantic. O.K., that and her affair with the INXS singer Michael Hutchence. Having good ears is essential to A&R; Carvello's book convinces me she has good eyes. Ahmet Ertegun is enshrined in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, the house he helped build. So is Tina Turner - but only as half of the duo Ike and Tina Tlirner, not as an artist on her own. Yes, she had to receive this honor alongside the man who assaulted her for years, despite the fact her success far outpaced his. Come to think of it, maybe it is well past time for music's #MeToo moment. EVELYN MCDONNELL edited "Women Who Rock: Bessie to Beyoncé, Girl Groups to Riot Grrrl," to be published this month, and edits the Music Matters series of books.

In this hard-hitting, profanity-laced tell-all recounting 19 years at some of the biggest recording companies, Carvello takes readers inside the pre-digital music industry of the 1960s through the '80s. At age 24, Carvello became secretary to Ahmet Ertegun, the founder of Atlantic Records, and describes his tirades that fostered a company culture of "toxic masculinity." Though Carvello rose to become Atlantic's first female A&R executive, she never broke through the glass ceiling ("In a man's world I had to work twice as hard for half as much"), and the book reads as a means of settling scores. When Carvello was a teenager, a teacher told her that "Men are going to try to break you"; here she reveals the truth in that statement as she describes the music industry as "a circus mixed with an orgy" run by men who thought nothing of steeling royalty payments and engaging in payola with radio stations. Tales of parties (Skid Row, on tour in Ft. Lauderdale, are described as "animals, running and jumping over everything") occasionally lighten the litany of dark stories in which Carvello helps male colleagues succeed in their careers only to receive no credit and, soon after, be fired. Carvello is piercingly honest in this discouraging look inside the music industry. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.