By Lorcan Stokes

Often working behind the scenes, music managers play a crucial role in shaping the careers of tomorrow's stars. Ryker, the manager of the multifaceted Oblé Reed, is no exception. With a sharp eye for talent and a deep understanding of the industry, she and Oblé have forged a strong partnership, with Ryker providing the strategic guidance that complements Reed's creative vision, helping him navigate the complexities of the music industry while staying true to his artistry.

Having gotten her start in music management unexpectedly, her beginnings are rooted in a chance encounter rather than a lifelong passion for the industry. Initially focused on sales, her path took a sharp turn when she found herself supporting a musician, helping her with marketing and structuring her career. When a production manager pointed out that Ryker was essentially acting as her manager, she realized the role she was fulfilling. From there, Ryker discovered a deep affinity for management, relating the experience to coaching, a passion rooted in her upbringing around sports and her father's influence as a coach. This revelation set Ryker on a path to refine her skills, managing various artists from rock n roll to hip-hop, each experience honing her understanding of the industry.

Ryker recently spoke to Converge Music about her journey through the music industry.

How did you start out?

Well, it's been a while now, but I started as a manager. I guess if we're going all the way back, I wasn’t originally into music. I was more into sales. There was this girl I liked who went to Arizona. She was a musician, and I was helping her with her career—just the marketing, the structure, stuff like that. This is the quick origin story.

One day, we were loading in for a show, and the production manager asked me what I did for the artist. I listed a bunch of things—marketing, setting up shows—and he said, ‘Oh, so you're the manager.’ I was like, ‘No, I’m not a manager. I just do this and that.’ But he insisted, ‘You're the manager.’ So I Googled what a manager was, and sure enough, I was doing a manager’s job. Long story short, managing your girlfriend doesn’t work. That fell apart, but I realized I liked managing. It felt like coaching, which was natural for me since I grew up playing sports and my dad was a coach.

After that, I came back home and started figuring out the management game. I managed a hip-hop artist as my first trial run. It was cool, but we were on different paths. I wanted to go to the top, but he just enjoyed being a rapper. He didn’t want to put in the work—no rehearsals, no dedication to greatness—so that ended quickly.

Actually, before that, I managed a rock band. I realized I hated managing five people at once—five voices, five opinions, five egos. It was a lot for a first-time manager. So I left that and found a hip-hop artist. We were more aligned, but still not quite there. His name was Luella, and we worked together for about a year. It was cool, but I didn’t feel respected for what I did as a manager. Sometimes artists think it’s all their talent getting them opportunities, without realizing how much the manager works behind the scenes. Without that appreciation, it breaks down the relationship.

Later, I started working with Jay No (who now goes by Jay Magoon). We worked together for about five years, and it was a good relationship. Eventually, though, we wanted different things out of the industry. It’s important for managers and artists to have the same vision—like in sports, whether you want to play single A, double A, or triple A. We were no longer on the same page.

Then, I accidentally connected with Obo. He was 19, and we met at a studio session. I had no idea who he was, but when he played his song ‘Black Kids,’ I immediately looked up from what I was doing. It was so good that I asked him to play another one just to see if it was a fluke. The second song was just as good, and I knew he was the real deal. We exchanged Instagrams, set up a meeting, and he even watched three hours of interviews I had done before our meeting. We ended up talking for three hours instead of the planned half-hour, and it was clear he was smart and talented.

What really set Obo apart was his patience. He was willing to spend a year developing something instead of rushing to release it. That’s what made him different from everyone else. And that brings us to where we are now.

Did you have a mentor in the beginning?

The first few years, I had no mentor. I stumbled into it, had no idea what I was doing, and was making an absolute mess of things. I guess I’m being hard on myself—I was doing pretty well for not knowing anything. But yeah, I didn’t have a mentor until I came back to Spokane. I did it for almost a year down there, which I don’t really count, and then I did it for another year up here, between the rock band and the hip-hop artist, but I don’t really count that either.

Then I started managing Lou Era, and right around that time is when I found my mentor. He came into the city doing some things in cannabis and film, and I didn’t know who he was at first. He was just a guy on Facebook saying he was available to film some sets and shows, and he wasn’t asking for much money. I don’t know what it was, but something about the way he worded the post—it just seemed professional. It wasn’t underground; it just felt right.

So, I reached out and said, "Hey, I’m playing a show in a couple of weekends, you should come through." He did. He’s a short guy, about my height, mixed, with a skull tattoo on his arm and a teardrop tattoo. I’m from the suburbs, so I was like, “Who is this dude?” He kind of scared me—not in a “I can’t hang with you” way, but my guard was definitely up.

We started hanging out, and everything that came out of his mouth was so on point—so educated, so well-developed. I was like, "Yo, who are you?" Sure enough, he used to be an artist. He worked at Def Jam for a long time as an A&R, then moved into radio, and later film. So, he had this huge background in everything I wanted to do.

I ended up giving up a year of my life just to sit in the front seat of his car every single day. I didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing—I just went with him, asking questions, learning from situations, and picking up things on the fly. That was kind of my training.

Talking about the rock band, would you work with people in that genre ever again or are you strictly hip hop? 

Yeah, I still work outside of hip-hop sometimes. I tour manage for Tesla Talks, and she’s a hardcore pop artist with a mix of nu-metal and other influences. So, yeah, definitely. I think, at the time, when I was working with that rock band, I just didn’t have my footing yet. I didn’t know what I was doing, and it was hard to manage all the different opinions in the mix because I didn’t have the confidence or discernment to say, “Yeah, I think you’re right,” or “No, this is the direction we need to go.”

Now, I’d be open to managing artists across genres—country, R&B, pop, rock, pop-punk. I probably wouldn’t manage a metal band, though. It’s a culture I don’t fully understand, and country is on the edge for me as well. I just don’t live in those worlds, and I want to be able to make an impact with the artists I work with. I’d probably make less of an impact in country or metal, at least at first.

I’m not super genre-specific—I’m more vibe-specific. One thing I’ve noticed is that I tend to manage a lot of men. I love working with women, though. I think, unfortunately, in our region, there’s a disparity. It’s not a lack of quality in women artists—it’s just that if you compared the number of men in the scene to the number of women, it’d be about three to one. So my chances of working with women are smaller because the pool of women aiming for that high bar is just smaller. But I hope that, over time, I’ll get the opportunity to manage a woman artist. I really love the way women express art.

What's the current music trends you're seeing in Eastern Washington?

Eastern Washington has a lot of rock bands and a strong underground hip-hop scene. The music scene is still developing, but that's really the vibe this year. What's interesting is that some hip-hop artists who used to be more mainstream have chosen to go back underground, doing house shows and smaller events. I think part of that is because it’s tough to build a fully established scene here.

I don’t want to say the underground scene isn’t legitimate—it’s very real and genuine—but there’s not much money flowing through it. Tickets for shows are $5 instead of $15, and there aren’t many venues that are tracked by platforms like Pollstar. So, when it comes to gathering the data needed for booking agents, managers, or attorneys, artists don’t really have much to show. That lack of data makes it hard for booking agents to get on board.

But on the flip side, the underground scene is legit in terms of passion and performance. People show up, and the shows are crazy, memorable—sometimes legendary. We’re talking about house ragers where people are jumping off the roof! The downside is that these kinds of shows can blur some legal lines. There’s often underage drinking, and while we’ve been fortunate not to have many assault issues, house shows are great until something goes wrong.

Since working with Oblé, like, how have you seen his career  develop and grow from when you started working?

The key has been pairing powerhouse talents with each other. When I started with Oblé, he had already gained attention with his song "Loose Change," which got picked up by a SoundCloud collaboration with I Am Other, supported by Pharrell. The song had about 100,000 streams and was powerful, addressing the Black experience in America. However, it kind of pigeonholed him, so he went back to refining his sound and approach.

His talent was never in question—it was more about structure and branding. We helped him develop routines, like rehearsals, workouts, and managing his off-time, so he could grow both as an artist and an activist with mass appeal. We also focused on the details—press photos, branding, and organizing the necessary documents. We really just helped him translate his vision into actionable steps while letting him focus on the art.

What were the biggest challenges you face in your role, whether it's networking or interacting with other artists, or making collaborations, what are the downsides that you experience?

One of the biggest challenges is the misunderstanding of what we do as managers. People don't always realize how much time and effort it takes to gain the knowledge I have, and they often expect that information for free. It's frustrating when artists assume I'll provide marketing or strategy advice without compensation, which wouldn't be expected from, say, a music attorney.

Another tough aspect is the lack of appreciation. Managers do so much behind the scenes—handling logistics, driving, ensuring everything runs smoothly. It's a tireless job, and while artists appreciate their producers or creatives, it's easy to overlook the manager who keeps everything on track. Without us, for many artists, their work would remain a hobby.

There's also the emotional toll of supporting artists as they transition from being unknown to suddenly having thousands of eyes on them. It’s a huge adjustment for them, and managing that while maintaining their career is demanding. And when you're in the thick of it—on the road, at sold-out shows—you’re not focused on fun, but on keeping everything running. The true "fun" comes later, in reflection, once you see everything come together successfully.

What is the most rewarding experience out of all this work that you're doing?

The most rewarding part of this work is seeing the artist win. As a manager, the victories belong to them, but the losses feel personal. So, when I see them succeed, it's incredibly fulfilling. Watching an artist go from zero plays to millions of streams, or seeing a packed venue with fans singing every word—those moments are priceless. It's a reminder of all the late nights, the sacrifices, and the effort it took to get there.

One key thing I’ve learned is that teamwork is everything. Even though I’m close to the artist, none of this happens without everyone—attorneys, producers, every piece of the puzzle. And when you finally see that smile on their face, when they realize all the hard work has paid off, that's the moment I live for.

For someone trying to get into music management, what would be a piece of advice you'd have.

For anyone looking to break into music management, my biggest piece of advice is to find a band you genuinely believe in, one that’s not too big—think around 20,000 monthly listeners or fewer. Look for artists you’re passionate about, and be ready to put in a lot of work for them, often for free at first. 

Approach them and ask if you can manage them; most will likely welcome the help, especially at that level. Newer artists typically want someone to represent them and guide them through the complexities of the industry. Even if you don’t have all the answers initially, just your presence and dedication can lead to significant growth—potentially increasing their income by 30-50% in the first year.

Also, understand that many artists struggle with the business side of things, especially when it comes to negotiating pay or recognizing their worth. This is where a manager can really shine, helping them navigate those tricky conversations while also connecting them with opportunities like opening for other acts or getting on playlists. 

Lastly, remember that not all artists excel at both performing and songwriting. It’s essential to find a good balance—team up with songwriters and performers who complement each other. When artists can recognize their strengths and weaknesses, it leads to better collaboration and, ultimately, better art.

What are your goals for the next few years in regards to bringing your artist to new heights or expanding your own roster?

It sounds like you have a clear vision and a strong determination to achieve your goals in the music industry. It's great that you recognize that success, whether it’s a Grammy or a spot on the Billboard Top 10, doesn’t equate to the end of your journey. You’re committed to growth, pushing boundaries, and seeing just how far you can take your music.

Your approach to being relentless and composed amid challenges is a key differentiator. It’s not just about the accolades; it's about the ongoing process of refinement and reaching more fans. This mindset will undoubtedly serve you well as you continue to build your brand and connect with audiences worldwide. Keep that momentum going, and it sounds like you're on track to achieve great things!