Clive Davis, the legendary record executive who shaped the sound of popular music for half a century, has died. He was 94. The news broke late this afternoon, sending a tremor through the industry on both sides of the Atlantic. British artists and executives were quick to pay tribute.
Davis wasn't just a suit. He was a talent finder. A hit maker. The man who signed Whitney Houston, Bruce Springsteen, and Janis Joplin. He built Arista Records from nothing. Then he did it again with J Records. His ear was his currency. And he spent it lavishly.
The tributes from the UK music scene poured in. Sir Elton John called him "the last of the great record men." Simon Cowell said he "changed the game." The Brits knew him. They feared him. They respected him. He could make a career with a single phone call.
Davis's death marks the end of an era. A time when music was pressed on vinyl and sold in shops. When a record exec could walk into a club, hear a voice, and change the world. Davis did that. Repeatedly. He saw potential where others heard noise.
His legacy is written in gold discs and Grammys. But it's also written in the careers he launched. Whitney Houston's voice filled stadiums because Davis believed. Bruce Springsteen's working-class anthems reached millions because Davis pushed. He was a sharp-elbowed New Yorker in a velvet glove business. He knew what the public wanted before they did.
British musicians, from Adele to Ed Sheeran, owe him a debt. He proved that talent could cross the Atlantic. That a song was a song, whether it came from London or Los Angeles. He championed British acts in America when few others would.
The newsroom is quiet tonight. We're all thinking about the records he made. The ones we played on repeat. The ones that made us feel something. Clive Davis had a hand in most of them. He was a titan. And now he's gone.
Rest in peace, Clive. You gave us the soundtrack to our lives.
