Traci Thomas
“Do you still have that couch?”
This is the first thing Traci Thomas asks me. In 2002-ish, she sold (practically gave) a choice vintage fold-out couch to my wife and myself. It was the green-blue of the Mediterranean in To Catch a Thief, and it weighed approximately 7 tons. We loved it.
That this is the first question Traci asks is noteworthy not for the excuse of a personal anecdote, but because it’s indicative of her personality. She remembers the little things. She pays attention to detail, and she pays attention to people.
These are not the most commonly associated character traits with the music industry. Yet, these are the traits that have helped Traci Thomas chart a long trajectory of success from notable music publicist to stellar artist manager.
From her early days with her own Grassroots Media, to being essentially the first real national bluegrass publicist, working with Alison Krauss, Chris Thile and others, to promoting rockers like the Drive-By Truckers, and now as the manager for runaway success singer/songwriter Jason Isbell, Thomas has had a career marked by a distinct personal touch, and an ear for a great song.
Thomas first broke out on her own as a publicist in the late ’90s, repping the slate of artists on Sugar Hill Records, among others.
“When I cut my teeth, I was Townes Van Zandt’s publicist,” she says. “He was on Sugar Hill with Steve Earle and Guy Clark. That’s how I learned to love a song. So I have a high bar … I had [the late artist manager] Jack Emerson once say to me, ‘you're not always gonna be this excited.’ I'm like, ‘if I'm not, I’m gonna need to go do something else.’ But I still get excited.”
She laughs and adds, “You know, I'm jaded, of course. But I don’t know if it’s about being jaded. It's just — I have pretty high standards and taste.”
“I still remember the first time I heard Buddy Miller's music. You know, I make him cry every time I tell the story,” she laughs. “But look, I can't tell you what I had for lunch yesterday, but I still remember that moment. Because we were doing HighTone Records stuff. And we were doing these Testament blues reissues, and then we get this record in with this white guy … and I just thought, ‘some white guy doing the blues.’ Not that Buddy doesn't have some blues to what he does, but [I listened to it] and I was like, ‘Whoa, holy cow! This is incredible.’”
It was Thomas’s ear that led her to a 14-year stint as publicist for the hellraising Georgia outfit, the Drive-By Truckers. She convinced Nashville musician/venue owner/record shop owner/music evangelist Mike “Grimey” Grimes to book the band at his small but mighty East Nashville club, Slow Bar — an early 2000s incubator for amazing Nashville artists and the city’s first live introduction to out-of-town bands like the Black Keys. Jason Isbell was a member of the Drive-By Truckers at the time.
“Next month it will be 20 years,” Thomas says. “The first night I met Jason [Isbell], the Truckers were touring with Slobberbone. They didn't have an agent yet, and Grimey hated Slobberbone. And I had to beg him to book the show. It was at Slow Bar. And it was like a clown car. The club was so packed that you would open the door and people rolled out. And so that's the night I met Jason. He tells people I'm the first person he ever met in the music business.”
The roster of artists that Thomas worked with as a publicist is staggering, and she established a reputation as savvy, authentic, no-nonsense champion for independent artists. “I can probably still count on one hand how many projects I've ever worked on a major label,” she says. “I’ve just always lived in the indie world.”
Thomas is reluctant to talk about any aspect of her success outside the quality of the artists she works with. Although she’s taught music business courses at the University of Georgia and racked up accolades from the Country Music Hall of Fame and others, she always deflects questions about herself to artists who accompanied her through the major changes in her career, including her initial move to artist management with the late Justin Townes Earle.
“That started with Justin Townes Earle, may rest in peace.” Thomas says. “Because he wasn’t at peace, at least here on Earth. When he started making music, I was like, ‘why don’t I manage you?’ And I think at that point, I was starting to get a little bit bored with being a publicist — being a publicist is consistently in the top 10 as one of the most stressful jobs. Because I've always worked with such independent artists, I always kind of went above and beyond just being a publicist. And so I was interested in expanding my skill set, and learning more about different sides of the business that I didn't know … and also getting paid for some of that extra stuff that I've always done.”
“It's never been about building a roster for me,” she adds. “You know, with Justin, he was still very much developing, so I had to keep doing press. And then Jason, [Isbell] … the day Jason got kicked out the Truckers, I offered to manage him. And I was not a manager yet. I just felt like his whole world had been ripped out from underneath him.”
When we dig into what attracts her to an artist, it’s immediately clear that despite decades of industry experience, Thomas is still drawn to the same characteristics that attracted her to Buddy Miller’s music in the 90s.
“It really comes down to authenticity,” she says. “The songs have to speak to me. It’s just really, really about the song.”
“Right now, I only have three clients: Jason Isbell, John Moreland, and one producer. I look at management as a marriage. It's a very intense relationship. I always said publicity was like dating, because sometimes you're only in there for three or four months to work a record. Granted, I had very longterm PR clients, but you have to get to know them. One thing that I think is very important, and that I always said when I taught at UGA, is that you have to find an artist who has similar sensibilities, because you're really an extension of them. You don't want to be fighting.”
“You also have to be willing — and Jason's a big believer in this, and I've always been this way — you have to be willing to tell people the truth. I find that there's so many people in this world that are not willing to do that. And especially in our business, it's like, those conversations are not fun, but you're gonna gain more respect. Especially when you do it with love and kindness.“
Again, this dedication to the human element within the big, often ugly, machine of music and to art in general, is what draws people to Thomas — artists, producers, promoters, fans. Criteria of authenticity and presence provide guardrails that have helped her navigate the music industry while keeping her soul intact.
“You must be present to win,” she says. “This is my motto … ‘you must be present to win’ works for so many things, whether it's having the the hard conversation, or putting your phone down and getting off social media to have a real conversation. It's important for me to go to all the major market shows. I think it's important to show up, and talk to the promoters that you know. Let them know that I care enough that I'm showing up. I still believe in that face-to-face kind of stuff. Relationships are extremely important. “
