Edmonton Rock Fest Producer Values Odd Career Path, Held Hostage by Rock ‘n’ Roll
Before Todd Crawshaw became the producer of the Edmonton Rock Music Festival, he worked at the Edmonton Maximum Security Prison as a violence cessation counselor.
“I’d work with guys doing time for abuse of spouses and children in their lives, in a bid to help them develop easier ways to deal with problems instead of using their fists,” he says.
Then he got held hostage – “for a very long 45 minutes.”
Working in a jail can be good training for the music business – Todd Crawshaw (right) with Saga’s Michael Sadler in 2018
Here’s the story: Crawshaw was just wrapping up a group session that included two inmates he’d worked with for a long time. “I forget the point they were trying to make, but they trusted me, and I trusted them. One looked at me and said, ‘Todd, no offense, but you need to go sit in that corner for a while.’ I said, man, you don’t have to tell me twice. Then they barricaded the door.”
He adds, “I don’t suffer from PTSD or anything. I didn’t feel like I was in any danger. I treated it like an academic exercise.”
Fortunately the incident ended peacefully, avoiding the deployment of the “extraction team.”
But that was it for Todd the Correctional Counselor.
“After that I had to do some serious thinking. I thought: I could do this job. I was good at it. But there must be some way I could apply some skills where I don’t have these kinds of stressors.”
He realized he was good at communicating. So – in an odd twist – Crawshaw unwittingly became a political flack. Long story short: After another MacEwan course in marketing (he’d already taken Criminology there, and Social Work-Psychology at the U of A), he wound up doing PR junkets and writing speeches for several ministers, plus two Alberta premiers, Ed Stelmach and Alison Redford. It could’ve been a sweet gig – but he didn’t like that job, either. Crawshaw’s diplomatic explanation: “I had some, er, ethical issues with the government of the day and how media message were being crafted at positions higher than mine.”
Don Felder of the Eagles (right) also played the fest in 2018
So he quit – only to land, not much later, through contacts and friends and from a reputation for being a “nice guy,” as the marketing director for the CKUA Radio Network (where he says he’d learned to love music since childhood). He’d already been a volunteer board member.
For those keeping score, that’s three careers in as many decades.
A few years later, landing the executive directorship of the Rock and Roll Society of Edmonton and its flagship festival was a simple matter of someone on the inside saying, “We could use a man like you.”
So they did. Crawshaw has been at the helm since 2016.
“I kind of fell ass over teakettle into this pretty cool job I have now,” he says.
Laugh all you want about how working in a jail (or worse, politics) prepares one for the music business – “but it’s no joke,” he says. “There’s no such thing as a wasted opportunity. Every job I’ve had has granted me some skills that I took onto the next job.”
It’s an intricate skill set: “Dealing with volatile people, an innate ability to read people very well … In groups I did at the Max, I was able to communicate information in a way that was attractive and accessible to a very specific audience … You can apply that to marketing or sales, leadership, volunteer management, so many things.”
Including managing a rock festival: “No matter how stressed I get producing a rock festival, it’s never as stressful as it was working in the Edmonton Max.”
What is Classic Rock?
The Edmonton Rock Music Festival is classic in everything but name. GUARANTEE: You will not find any act younger than 25 years on the stage at the Heritage Amphitheatre in Hawrelak Park this weekend – if ever.
The biggest name this year is Rick Springfield (right), best known for the 1981 hit Jessie’s Girl; he’ll be joined by Greg Kihn and Tommy Tutone to close on Saturday, Aug, 17. Also on stage will be blasts from Canadian past including The Pursuit of Happiness, Haywire, Darby Mills and Wide Mouth Mason. Folks grumbled that Sloan and The Odds didn’t qualify as classic rock (they both play Friday, Aug. 16) – until reminded that Sloan started in 1992 (26 years ago), The Odds in 1987 – 32 years ago! The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame sets its threshold at 25 years.
Reality check: Where once certain classic bands would ask for bottles of Jack and a bag o’ weed on their riders, they now request a “proximity of nurses,” and in one case, “oxygen tanks,” according to Rockfest producer Todd Crawshaw.
“Some of these ‘80s bands are turning into seniors, and some are doing their last tours.” He says you need new blood too keep the rock fresh, “The bounds of what is considered classic rock are always changing.”
See the festival website for complete details.
