The Neil Young School of No

Picture the scene: I'm an upstart talent manager sitting nervously in a luxury London hotel room across from Elliot Roberts, the legendary manager behind icons like Joni Mitchell and The Eagles.

Surrounded by opulence, Elliot is wearing tattered jeans and his trademark sandals for comfort. After digesting the problem I've come for his advice on, Elliot picks up the hotel phone to call another room. Following some animated banter, he hangs up and says, "Piers, stay here. Neil wants to come down to give you his opinion."

I gulp. After all, the Neil in question is rock legend Neil Young, Elliot's client since 1968.

It was now the mid-2000s, and I needed seasoned industry wisdom stat. Our flagship management clients at the time, Tegan and Sara, had just told me and my partner to say "no" to an offer to perform at Glastonbury, the grandfather of all music festivals.

"No?! How could we possibly say no to Glastonbury?!" I thought, stunned. A slot there could turbocharge their budding career and solidify their global rise. Nobody says no to Glastonbury!

At the time Tegan and Sara were signed to Elliot and Neil's record label, Vapor Records, and as luck would have it, we were all overlapping in the UK that week. Neil was enjoying a night off from his run at the Hammersmith Apollo, and now he wanted in on our impromptu hotel summit. Perfect. Surely Neil would be the one to convince Tegan and Sara to say yes. After all, nobody says no to Neil Young!

When Neil entered the room, his famously penetrating gaze locked onto me. I was hit by a surreal mix of pride and panic. On one hand, how many people get a private consult with Neil Young? On the other, I couldn’t shake the thought: God, I hope this problem doesn't make him angry.

As I explained the dynamics around the Glastonbury offer, Neil paced the room in brooding thought. When I cautiously started to ask his opinion on how to change Tegan and Sara's mind, he stopped in his tracks and looked at me with a stare that could cut glass. I'll never forget what he said next: "It's okay if they want to say no to Glastonbury. The more I used to say no to things in the '60s and '70s, the more my career grew."

Mic drop.

As I picked my jaw up off the floor, Neil launched into a masterclass on the power of no. His career, he explained, was built on it. Saying no to tours and festivals always made the offers better the next year. Saying no to interviews made the media chase him harder. No to regional press. No to TV appearances. The aura of mystery surrounding him wasn’t by accident – it was the result of consistently saying no over decades, making himself scarce and valuable.

He explained that he also refused all outside opinions on his art. No record label or publisher ever gave him creative input. I quickly realized that "no" was the philosophical foundation that had created one of the most critically-revered rock legends of all time. And unlike me, Neil and Elliot weren’t afraid of missed opportunities or disappointing people. They said no with conviction. I realized, uncomfortably, that I struggled with this, too often fearing missed chances or hurt feelings.

But Neil even had an answer for that. He credited his career longevity to saying no, and pointed out that longevity was clearly more important than hurting external people's feelings. The goal wasn’t short-term success, it was sustainability. He spoke candidly about burnout, watching his friends die from life on the road in the '60s and '70s, and the manager’s true role: to protect the artist's vision over the long term. Ensuring Tegan and Sara could still play Glastonbury 25 years on, rather than pressuring them to play that particular year.

As he dug into why Tegan and Sara wanted to decline, their reasoning became more and more understandable through his lens. The fee was modest as they were still climbing the ranks. The slot was early on a smaller stage, where it would be easy to get lost in the mix. They were already exhausted from relentless touring that year. I slowly understood that saying no might in fact become the best route to getting a better yes in future, and that Tegan and Sara had been ahead of us in their thinking.

I eventually shook Neil and Elliot's hand and staggered out of the room, feeling like a dazed apprentice left to wander the streets of London in thought. Despite my discomfort, we turned down the Glastonbury offer the next day. We never heard their reaction – shock, perhaps – but just as Neil predicted, the offer returned a couple years later, much bigger and better. That time, Tegan and Sara said yes.

Neil taught me that night that saying "no" can be a powerful tool that plays on the economics of scarcity, both in the arts and business. It can create sustained value, protect longevity, and create better outcomes. So whether you’re dealing with a draining client, a bad business deal, or an opportunity that doesn’t feel right, your most rock & roll move might just be to say no. And while you're at it – turn on the stereo, take a moment to enjoy your decision, and keep on rockin' in the free world.

This essay originally appeared in Douglas Magazine.