He discovered so many top-tier music talents — Usher, TLC and Outkast, to name a few — it’s almost hard to believe.
He was instrumental in the careers of Sean “Puffy” Combs, Kanye West and Justin Bieber.
He orchestrated the revival of Mariah Carey and Jennifer Lopez.
Over four decades in the music business, L.A. Reid has crafted a resume few can touch.
But his inimitable eye for talent wasn’t always spot on. There were also a handful of massive missteps, most notably, his decision to drop Stefani Germanotta from his label before she became the mega star known to the world as Lady Gaga.
In his soon-to-drop memoir, “Sing to Me: My Story of Making Music, Finding Magic, and Searching for Who’s Next,” Reid chronicles his hits and misses, his highs and lows, offering a window into the career of one of the most successful music executives in history.
Along the way, he reveals some off-the-record conversations, such as the night on St. Bart’s when Jay Z told Usher he was disappointed in him.
It was an intimate party at Reid’s place, just Beyonce, Jay Z and Usher, the men drinking and smoking weed till dawn. Beyonce and Jay Z were just coming off the hit singles “Single Ladies” and “Empire State of Mind.”
“You know, I’m a little bit disappointed in you,” Jay Z told Usher. “Because you are one of our greats. You are supposed to be right now where Beyonce and I are. Why isn’t that happening?”
Usher shrugged and said it was because he didn’t have “my guy,” meaning Reid.
Jay Z wasn’t having it. “He’s sitting right here … LA was the reason my album (“The Blueprint 3″) was so big. I don’t know him nearly as well as you do, so if he can help me, he can help you.”
It was Jay Z who brought Rihanna, the then-17-year-old beauty from Barbados, in for an audition when she sang “Pon de Replay.”
“Don’t let her leave the building,” Reid told Jay Z.
Rihanna signed, but Reid threw more money at and paid more attention to his young female discovery, Teairra Mari. That changed after a company showcase where both women sang.
“That Rihanna girl,” Beyonce told him, “she’s a beast.”
In return, Reid introduced Young Jeezy to Jay Z, after the unknown rapper showed up in Reid’s office draped in diamonds and gold chains.
But Jeezy came with a warning. Reid’s incomparable A&R man, Shakir Stewart (who later committed suicide), said, “Young Jeezy’s from the streets. I don’t know if you want to get mixed up with him.”
Reid told him, “I’ve got you from here.” Jeezy was a hugely successful hustler, according to Reid, with a close affiliation to the gang BMF (Black Mafia Family).
“His advance was $1 million, and he didn’t cash that check for more than a year, that’s how well he had done in the rackets,” Reid writes.
But Jay Z wouldn’t stand beside any rapper who was just fronting at being from the streets. It was a hard and fast rule.
“He’s real,” Jay Z judged, bringing Jeezy close, “This guy, I’ll stamp.”
Oddly, Reid, who seemingly had an unerring instinct for talent, passed on giving Kanye West his first record deal when he was president of Arista Records.
Kanye, a lowly producer at the time, didn’t present as hip hop. He carried his beats in a Gucci backpack and was a preppy fashionista. Kanye sure as hell wasn’t from the ghetto.
Soon after he took over at Island Def Jam, Reid was handed a copy of “The College Dropout.” He brought Kanye close, talked and listened, but was aware there wasn’t much his mega-star in the making needed when it came to the music.
Long before he was crowning hip hop royalty, Antonio “L.A.” Reid was a drummer with the Cincinnati funk band Pure Essence, then The Deele. In 1989, he founded the label LaFace Records with bandmate Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds, later merging with Arista Records.
For a spell, he replaced Clive Davis as CEO of Arista, but was dumped in 2004, after which he assumed the same mantel at Island Def Jam. He’s now the big man at Epic Records.
At LaFace, acting on a tip his wife, Perri “Pebbles” Reid picked up at the beauty salon, he put together TLC — the hugely successful female hip-hop group that featured T-Boz (Tionne Watkins), Left Eye (Lisa Lopes), and Chilli (Rozonda Thomas).
Though his wife has intimated he slept with Chilli, Reid denies it, though he agrees TLC broke up his marriage. After they became huge, TLC fired Pebbles as their manager.
Reid felt he had no choice but to protect the group. It was his label, after all.
In 1994, he only needed to hear one song on a cassette to know that two 17-year-olds, Andre (Andre 3000) Benjamin and Antwan (Big Boi) Patton, were meant to be stars.
He relentlessly drove Outkast’s first single “Player’s Ball” into widespread radio play and watched their first album, “Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik,” go platinum.
In 1993, looking for a new A&R guy, he took a meeting with Sean (Puffy) Combs. Reid came away convinced that Puffy needed to do his own thing and set up facetime with Clive Davis. Bad Boy Records was born.
When 15-year-old Usher strolled into his office, Reid sent the teen to New York for Puffy to teach him some swagger — but Reid had to get his mother’s permission before turning Usher over to the “wildest party guy in the country.”
He discovered Alecia Moore, heavily tattooed at 17, singing with a girl group. He advised her to go solo and, unfortunately, suggested an etiquette class.
When Moore morphed into Pink, a lyric on her first album, noted: “LA told me you’ll be a pop star, all you have to change is everything you are.”
He also advised her against the direction she was taking with her next album. Pink ignored him, and “Missundaztood” sold more than 10 million copies.
It was in Pink’s transformation that Reid saw that once an artist created a character to live in the songs, they had it made.
Avril Lavigne showed up for her audition as a sweet 16-year-old who perched on a stool to strum her acoustic guitar.
The next time he saw Lavigne, she was in character, long brunette hair parted in the center, face framed by rectangular blue glasses.
Years later, when Usher brought Justin Bieber to him, the 14-year-old radically changed his look between meetings, showing up the second time with overgrown bangs.
Reid knew “hit haircut” when he saw it.
Shortly after taking over at Island Def Jam, he toured the Def Jam division. The gang colors tipped him off that “there was definitely a sort of a crime syndicate feel, far from my world.”
He had a Def Jam problem that he resolved by placing a call to Jay Z, who had retired from rapping to concentrate on his Roc-A-Fella label.
Other record companies were in overdrive trying to bring in Jay Z as an executive.
But Reid alone could offer Jay Z the valuable ownership of the masters of his recordings, and all future earnings from them.
Still, Jay Z wouldn’t pick up the phone, letting Reid’s offer just dangle.
Reid’s next move was an ultimatum. Either Jay Z signed the deal in 48 hours, or the offer was withdrawn.
“You got a lot of balls,” another heavyweight in the business told him.
Twenty minutes past midnight on the second day, the signed papers arrived at the offices of Reid’s lawyers. Jay Z wasn’t going to meet a deadline, but he took the job.
“Steel sharpens steel,” Jay Z told Reid. “Let’s go.”
Together they made a formidable team as Reid became aware of how much he had to learn from the Brooklyn-born rapper. But things grew tense when Jay Z asked Reid to give a listen to “The Blueprint 3.”
Jay Z told Reid he knew the legendary producer was lying when he said he liked it. Reid, who always demanded a hit single from all his artists, admitted he hadn’t heard it on this one.
Jay Z went back into the studio and came away with two monster hits — “Run This Town” with Rihanna and Kanye, and “Empire State of Mind” with Alicia Keyes.
Reid felt that in pushing Jay Z artistically, he had also pushed him away. But they later healed.
It was during those years that Mariah Carey approached him. Her career had tanked and she needed a comeback. Reid worked closely with Carey and her manager, Benny Medina, to produce “The Emancipation of Mimi.”
Reid and Carey had a lovefest, and the singer had already popped the champagne when he informed her that the album wasn’t quite done. He wanted a monster single.
He flew Carey to an Atlanta caucus with Jermaine Dupri and she came back with “We Belong Together.” Finally, Mimi had her comeback.
Later, Reid performed a similar service for Jennifer Lopez, first convincing her not to make a video of “Louboutins,” since no one she was singing to could afford the red-soled shoes.
He hooked her up with the producer Red One, and they came up with “On the Floor.” The single sold six million — and J. Lo was back.
While Reid admits his two seasons as a judge on “The X Factor” were a mistake, firing Lady Gaga still rankles him the most.
When he signed her in 2006, she was all blond hair and white thigh-high go-go boots. Still, she sang with such passion, he told her she would change music.
But the demo tapes she produced three months later were so bland that he kicked her to the curb.
Lady Gaga always credits being dropped from the label as the event that spurred an insatiable drive for success.
It’s not much, but it’s something.
