Howie Klein

Howie Klein, president of 415 Records, with heavy-metal group Rude Girl in San Francisco, Calif., 1984 (Iris Schneider, Los Angeles Times - https://digital.library.ucla.edu/catalog/ark:/21198/zz0002sf7c)

Sad to see that Howie Klein, a political and music industry hero as well as one of the best storytellers I've known, has died. He relentlessly fought for important causes and used his stature to help artists and marginalized people. Great punk rock sense of humor, too. 

I was surprised to hear Jello Biafra tell me how much he loved Howie, and that I needed to talk to him. Not that I didn't have utmost respect for Howie—it's just that he was in the upper ranks of the corporate music industry, against so much of what Jello stands for. Of course, within minutes of speaking with Howie I could tell they were kindred spirits. Howie had a mischievous, anarchic streak that was constantly superseded authority and sticking it to the man, long after so many of the music forms he championed had become mainstream. From his concert bookings at a Stony Brook University student (the Doors, the Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Pink Floyd, Otis Redding, the Who, many others) through his interviews as a San Francisco DJ (the Cramps, Devo, Iggy Pop, the Sex Pistols, many others) through his stints at 415, Sire, and Reprise Records (the Cure, Green Day, Fleetwood Mac, Ice-T,  Madonna, Alanis Morissette, the Pretenders, Ramones, Lou Reed, Romeo Void, the Smiths, Neil Young, many others), he's almost certainly worked with some music you love, likely something you'd never have heard without Howie's efforts and influence.

He signed Body Count out of a love for their music and the musicians, and staunchly defended them against pressure from America's government and police forces when the "Cop Killer" scandal broke. He spoke with me about flying out to New York solo to defend "Cop Killer" from corporate (when asked if he had a suit for the journey, his response was that he'd gotten one for his bar mitzvah), and revealed that the Time Warner bomb threats were being delivered by angry policemen. But my favorite Howie story is when the Body Count record went gold he had plaques printed for Dan Quayle and Charlton Heston. He was a critical help with my book, sharing stories he hadn't told before, and still made time to talk to me about getting Lou Reed to meet Vaclav Havel at the White House. He continued to fight for free speech, artists' rights and progressive causes long after the banning of "Cop Killer," even from his deathbed. I wish he'd written a book, though he certainly cared more about improving the world than promoting his brand. I cherish our conversations and will miss him. Thank you, Howie.