As Meridee Merzer once pointed out in an article for Gallery magazine that was appropriately entitled "'The Pampered Emperors of Rock and Their Tough-Assed Managers," "Anybody who has ever flailed at a keyboard, plunked away at guitar strings, or simply bellowed into a microphone, has at one brief, shining (and somewhat deluded) moment dreamed that he, too, could become a latter day Elvis or Jagger or, for chrissakes, at least John Denver." But the sobering fact is that for every thousand artists that aspire to pop stardom only a handful ever become professional (in the true sense of the word) music-makers and only one or two ever achieve the status of Superstar.

Those were the grim statistics that faced Stirling Madoc, an up-and-coming young guitarist who had tasted enough success in his short career to be tantalized by the thought of greater fame and fortune in the not too distant future. That's where Brian Bernstein entered the picture. As one of the most respected managers in the country, he just might be that extra impetus that could nudge a promising musician towards that illusive bauble known as stardom.

If you accept the fact that Elvis and the Beatles were two of the biggest musical phenomenon to hit the entertainment world in the past 25 years, then you probably would also have to concede that Colonel Tom Parker (Elvis' manager) and Brian Epstein (the Beatles’ original manager) played an integral part in the success of those two acts.

Manager. The very word conjures up images of potbellied, cigar puffing manipulators who take everything from their artists with the exception of the few pennies needed for the bus fare to get to the next show.

The classic dialogue that often formed the first relationship between manager and artist was often scripted:

"Stick with me boys and I'll make you a star," a line usually delivered with the flick of a cigar and the implication," "You take the fame; I'll take the money." A good fifty-fifty relationship.

Thankfully, these days, in which the financial stakes in the pop music field are greater than ever before, this is a well-worn and generally extinct stereotype. For the most part the manager is the much-needed business extension of a creative unit and for the whole entity to function, he must be as talented in his own sphere as the artist is in his. Today, with many acts becoming multi-million dollar properties almost overnight, to be a manager is to be a corporate head, mentor, public relations man, clairvoyant of public taste and diplomat.

Tom Parker took 50 percent of Elvis’ action and Brian Epstein had 25 percent of the Beatles. Stiff, but who can argue the fact that it was their managerial talents that parlayed their artists’ high hopes into realities.

And so, as rock writer Richard Robinson once observed, "On and on and around they go; rock and roll stars inking on the dotted line, practicing their little lives away in the vain, often unsatisfied hope of being famous. So famous that they'll see their name in fascination lights when they promenade down old funky Broadway."

Stirling signed a long-term management agreement with Bernstein and in due time there was a record company contract the tip of an iceberg.