Brian Epstein
b. Brian Samuel Epstein, 1934, Liverpool England, d. 27 August 1967. One of the most famous pop managers in music business history, Epstein began his working life as a provincial shopkeeper, overseeing the North End Road Music Stores (NEMS) in central Liverpool. His life took a new direction on Saturday 28 October 1961 when a customer requested a record entitled My Bonnie by a group called the Beatles. When Brian subsequently attended one of their gigs at the Cavern club in Matthew Street he was drawn into the alien netherworld of leather-clad beat groups and, against the advice of his friends, became a pop manager. His early efforts at promoting the Beatles proved haphazard, but using his influence with record companies he secured a number of interviews with important A&R representatives. A slew of rejections followed, but Decca Recordsat least offered the Beatles an audition before finally turning them down. Epstein took his revenge by crediting the unfortunate Dick Rowe with the immortal words: ‘Groups of guitarists are on the way out’. 
Epstein's tardiness in securing a record deal did not diminish his abilities in other areas. He transformed the Beatles into a more professional outfit, banned them from swearing or eating on stage and even encouraged the establishment of a rehearsed repertoire. Perhaps his most lasting contribution at this point was persuading them to replace their menacing, black leather garb with smart, grey lounge suits, with eye-catching matching collars. By the spring of 1962, Epstein at last won a record deal thanks to the intuitive intervention of producer George Martin. A near crisis followed shortly afterwards when Epstein had to oversee the dismissal of drummer Pete Best, who was replaced by Ringo Starr. During October 1962, a management contract was belatedly finalized with the Beatles by which Epstein received 25 per cent of their earnings, a figure he maintained for all future signings. Weeks later, he struck a deal with music publisher Dick James which culminated in the formation of Northern Songs, a company dealing exclusively with compositions by John Lennon and Paul McCartney In an extremely clever and unusual deal for the period, the powers agreed on a 50/50 split: half to Dick James and his partner Charles Emmanuel Silver; 20 per cent each to Lennon and McCartney, and 10 per cent to Epstein. 
Long before the Beatles became the most successful entertainers in British music history, Epstein had signed his second group Gerry And The Pacemakers. Scouring the Cavern for further talent he soon added Tommy Quickly, the Fourmost, Billy J. Kramer And The Dakotas, the Big Threeand Cilla Black. The spree of NEMS signings during 1963 was the most spectacular managerial coup since Larry Parnes’ celebrated discoveries during the late '50s. More importantly, the artists dominated the UK charts throughout the year, logging an incredible nine number 1 hits spanning 32 weeks at the top. By early 1964, Beatlemania had crossed from Britain to America and NEMS had transformed from a small family business into a multi-million pound organization. The strength of the company ensured that the Beatles had few administrative problems during the Epstein era. Scrupulously fair, he even allowed his charges a 10 per cent interest in NEMS. One area where Epstein was deemed fallible was in the merchandising agreements that he concluded on behalf of the Beatles. Ironically, it was due to delegating the matter to the inexperienced solicitor David Jacobs that the group found themselves receiving a mere 10 per cent of the sums received by the company set up to merchandise goods in their name. By the mid-60s, licences had been granted for every product that the American merchandising mentality could conceive. This meant not only badges, dolls and toys, but even cans of Beatle breath. The lost revenue that Brian had allowed to slip through his fingers was gruesomely revealed in the pages of the WALL STREET JOURNAL. According to their figures, Americans spent approximately $50 million on Beatles goods up until the end of 1964, while the world market was estimated at roughly £40 million. Although Epstein attempted to rectify the poor merchandising deal through litigation and even contributed massive legal expenses from his own pocket, the stigma of the unfortunate deal remained. Few pointed out that it was less Epstein's error than that of the inexperienced Jacobs, who had agreed to the arrangement without consulting his client. 
The merchandising dispute has all too often eclipsed Epstein's achievements in other areas. It deserves to be remembered that the Liverpudlian effectively ushered in the era of stadium rock with the Beatles’ Hollywood Bowl concert, an event which changed rock economics for ever. Even while the Beatles were conquering the New World, Epstein was expanding his empire. Although he signed a couple of unsuccessful artists, most of the NEMS stable enjoyed tremendous success. The career of Cilla Black was a tribute to Epstein's creative management. He helped her adapt to the rigours of showbusiness success with a feminine solicitude typical of a would-be dress designer. More importantly, however, he immediately recognized her lasting charm as the gauche, unpretentious, girl-next-door, an image that another manager might have suppressed. Epstein's expert exploitation of her appeal paved the way for her eventual acceptance and remarkable success as a television host. 
When the Beatles ceased touring after the summer of 1966, Epstein's role in their day-to-day lives was minimal. For a time, he attempted to find satisfaction in other areas, purchasing the Savile Theatre in London's Shaftesbury Avenue and alternating serious drama with Sunday pop shows. Ever puzzling, Epstein even sponsored an Anglo-Spanish bullfighter named Henry Higgins and astonished his colleagues by attempting to persuade the perpetually nervous Billy J. Kramer to pursue an acting career. NEMS, meanwhile, ceased to inspire the entrepreneur and he inexplicably offered a 51 per cent controlling interest to the Australian adventurer Robert Stigwood. By 1967, Epstein was losing control. Drug dependence and homosexual guilt brought him to the verge of a nervous breakdown and attempted suicide. He even suffered at the hands of the press for advocating the use of the drug LSD. On August Bank Holiday 1967 the Beatles were in north Wales attending a course in transcendental meditation with their new mentor the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Brian, meanwhile, was lying dead at his London home. The inquest subsequently found that he had died from a cumulative overdose of the sleep-inducing drug Carbitrol. Although suicide was suspected and some fanciful conspiracy theories have suggested the remote possibility of foul play, the coroner concluded with a prosaic verdict of accidental death from ‘incautious self-overdoses’. 
In spite of his foibles, Epstein is rightly regarded as a great manager, possibly the greatest in British pop history. Judged in the context of his era, his achievements were remarkable. Although it is often claimed that he did not exploit the Beatles’ earning power to its maximum degree, he most certainly valued their reputation above all else. During his tenure as manager, he insulated them from corporate avarice and negotiated contracts that prevented EMIfrom marketing cheap reissues or unauthorized compilations. In this sense, he was the complete antithesis of Elvis Presley's manager, Colonel Tom Parker, who allowed his artist to atrophy through a decade of bad movies. As the custodian of the Beatles’ international reputation, Epstein's handling of their career was exemplary. For Epstein, honour meant more than profit and he brought an integrity to pop management that few of his successors have matched. 
Further reading: STARMAKERS & SVENGALIS (THE HISTORY OF BRITISH POP MANAGEMENT), Johnny Rogan. BRIAN EPSTEIN, Ray Coleman.