Where is MusicÃ¢â?¬â?¢s Secret Money Machine?
According to Fast Company Magazine’s February 2007 cover story, it’s in Crozet.
Or, as the in-depth feature article on Coran Capshaw and Musictoday puts it, "in The Foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, in an unmarked former chicken-pot-pie plant outside Charlottesville, Virginia."
In what has to be the closest look we’ve had at our own little musical Charlie’s Chocolate Factory, Capshaw says more than he’s said in years of local coverage. Still, writer Chuck Salter admits it took more than a year to set up the interview with the media-shy music mogul.
On the way bands can be so successful at selling their own merchandise:
"That direct interaction is unique," says Capshaw. "It's a bonding experience."
On the Grateful Dead:
"I went to a lot of their shows," he says, "and was exposed to the do-it-yourself model."
On battling Ticketmaster’s lawyers:
"They tried to shut down the artist-to-fan concept," Capshaw says matter-of-factly. "There was a series of letters they sent to promoters and venues, some back and forth there." Pause. "But we worked it out." Ulysses S. Grant couldn't have said it better, the writer adds.
Other highlights include Red Light Management executive Bruce Flohr admitting he was "scared s–tless" the first time he met Capshaw, and this little snapshot:
Capshaw doesn't come across as the skirmishing type. Sitting in the top-floor conference room of Red Light Management, in downtown Charlottesville, he seems every bit the 48-year-old Deadhead, as laid-back as his black Lab Emmy (as in singer Emmylou Harris). He has thick, bushy gray hair, a reflective manner, and a deep voice softened by a slight drawl. C-Ville Weekly, a local paper, once called Capshaw the Donald of Charlottesville because of his many real estate projects, which include this very office building, an amphitheater, various apartments, several restaurants, a club, and a micro brewery. ("We joke that Coran pays you on Friday, and you give it back to him over the weekend," says Donohue.)