Rap Radar: Warner/Chappell CEO, Jon Platt

I'm great, man. This is rare. We appreciate you, brother, very rare.

Sure. I'm a music publisher, and I've been doing this for over 23 years. I started at EMI Music Publishing in 1995 and worked there for 17 years. When the company got sold, I left and went to Warner Chappell, where I am now the chairman and CEO. I work with songwriters – that's my life. It's servicing songwriters. My first big taste was TLC's 'Waterfalls.' A writer named Marques West was behind it. I tracked him down in Atlanta, explained what music publishing was, and we did a deal. 'Waterfalls' became my first number one as a publisher. Seeing him have that moment was amazing.

He didn't know what it was about. He kept his full-time job at a hotel, even after 'Waterfalls' became a number-one record. He still wouldn't quit. So, music publishing is simple: we administer the rights to songs. Every time a song is played on the radio, in a movie, or on a record, the songwriter earns money. Someone has to collect all those revenue streams, license the songs, and make sure the writers get paid. That's the administration part. But what made me popular was not just collecting – it's signing songwriters and then taking their songs to other artists, creating opportunities. I signed a writer named 'Tomorrow Savage' (actually a female writer) – her next song was 'Heartbreak Hotel' for Whitney Houston. I took her to Jermaine Dupri's studio, and within an hour, she and Jermaine wrote the whole song. Being part of that creative process is what I love.

Working with producers and songwriters is delicate. You have to know when to step in and when to step out. When you do step in, you better be right. I've been blessed to contribute more than not. Music is in me. I have great relationships because they trust me. When I hear a commercial or a song, I immediately think about licensing and sync fees. Once I heard a sample of Earth, Wind & Fire on a new song. The producer tried to hide it, but I caught it. I told my contact, 'Tell them we tried to be nice. Now we want the whole song.' That's how I protect our rights.

It depends on which side of the fence you're on. I was working with Jay and saw he was eating a good portion of the samples, even though he didn't bring the sample to the song. I didn't think that was fair. I got aggressive. I told his team, 'He's not eating any samples anymore. Anything with his publishing, speak with me.' We changed how it operated. If you're a big enough artist, you shouldn't have to pay for samples. You bring a lot to the table just by walking in the room. We did that on his album 'Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life.' Me and Linnaeus did every song split on that album. It was his biggest album, and he saw the immediate benefit. That created a lifetime bond. I've worked with Jay since his first album, 'Reasonable Doubt.' I heard songs that were so visual, I had never experienced that before. I'm a DJ by background – I grew up in Denver and took pride in breaking records.

I'm sure I could, but I don't. When I go to parties, I think, 'This is mad.' DJs make a lot more money now than the fifty bucks a night I used to make.

Yeah, I guess. I just loved music. It was Chuck D who inspired me. He came to Denver for a show. The equipment was terrible, so I offered my turntables. I drove him to my house in my Ford Granada, wrapped the turntables in blankets, and they used them. After the show, Chuck gave me $60. I gave it back, but he insisted. That became a friendship. Years later, he came back to speak at a college. I tapped him. He said, 'Big John!' and told me not to be satisfied with being the big thing in a small market. He said, 'Every time I come to Denver, you're the man, but unless you dream bigger, that's all you'll ever be.' He suggested I start a record label. I had no money, but it stuck with me. I started managing producers, learned about publishing, and eventually got a job at EMI.

I would stay at EMI all day and night. I cracked the key code and would sleep in the conference room, listening to music, making long-distance calls to companies in New York. That's how I learned the game.

It starts with great music, but that's the easy part. You need a desire to win. Can you handle being told no? Can you handle being told your music isn't good? If you can't, we probably shouldn't work together. You need resilience and thick skin. Everyone wants to start at the top, but the journey to the top is greater than being there.

Usher is a good story. He had his debut album – it did okay, but he had a hit called 'Thinking of You.' He was working on his second album. I saw him perform at a City of Hope event honoring Babyface. Usher came out in a red leather suit and performed a medley of Bobby Brown songs. I remember sitting there thinking, 'That guy's a star.' I went on a mad pursuit after him. He eventually came out with 'You Make Me Wanna...' and the rest is history.

You have to educate yourself. I can't speak on their path, but today's business is different. Streaming, YouTube, SoundCloud – you can get music out quickly. But it hurts my heart when someone has success and then wants to do a publishing deal only to find they already signed it away to someone at a studio or on the streets because they didn't understand what they were signing. Publishing is your first real check. A record you can touch; publishing you can't. People don't value it until it's too late. My advice: be with someone who cares about your career, not just the check. I tell artists, 'If you want the money, go there. If you want the career, come here.' All deals expire, and I'm passionate about the ones I do. When a deal ends, I'll be there to try again.

I couldn't care less about buzz. All I care about is great music. I've done that more than the other way. For example, I found Harold Lilly through a chain of friends. He didn't know what publishing was – he thought it was a prank call. After I signed him, he went to LA, got in the studio with a young Kanye West, and wrote 'You Don't Know My Name' for Alicia Keys. He won a Grammy. I was sitting right next to him.

Jeezy was bubbling on mixtapes. I knew what he was going to be. But he wasn't interested in a publishing deal at all. I sent a deal to his lawyer late at night from a Holiday Inn business center. The lawyer said he didn't want to do a deal. I said, 'You have an obligation to show him the offer.' So he did. Jeezy said he wanted to meet me. I went to his house in Atlanta. He was like, 'I like you, man.' But it still took forever to get the deal done. We finally signed it at Chicago Airport – a private airport. I hired a notary, flew to the airport, and we did the deal in a small room. I gave him a big check, and he handed it back and said, 'What do I do with this?' I said, 'Cash it.'