The “My Music Row Story” weekly column features notable members of the Nashville music industry selected by the MusicRow editorial team. These individuals serve in key roles that help advance and promote the success of our industry. This column spotlights the invaluable people that keep the wheels rolling and the music playing.

Rakiyah Marshall is the Founder and CEO of Back Blocks, a full-service publishing, management and artist development company. Under her leadership, Back Blocks has guided the careers of Blake Pendergrass, Ashley Cooke, Tucker Wetmore and Lily Rose. Marshall and her team recently celebrated major milestones, including Cooke and Wetmore’s first No. 1 hits.

Before founding Back Blocks, Marshall built a strong foundation in pop promotion at Republic Records in NYC, including time at UMG’s classical division (now Verve). She later brought her expertise in radio, streaming, marketing, and artist development to Nashville, working at Cornman Music under hall of fame songwriter, Brett James and BMG under Kos Weaver. There, she advocated for writers, placed notable songs and bridged Nashville with the global creative community.

Now, Marshall continues to shape Back Blocks into a leading force in the industry, driving success for her roster through innovative strategies and dedicated advocacy.

Marshall will be honored as part of MusicRow‘s Rising Women on the Row class of 2025 on March 20 at the Omni Nashville Hotel. Read more about the event here.

MusicRow: Where did you grow up?

I’m from Long Island, New York. I was born in Queens but moved to Long Island when I was about four. I lived there after college until about 2014, then moved to Manhattan before making my way to Nashville.

What was your childhood like? What were you into?

I was really into sports. I played basketball and ran track, which took up a lot of my time. I had a great childhood. Long Island, at least where I grew up, is very suburban, so we spent a lot of time outside. You could just run around the neighborhood without a parent hovering. I’m still friends with most of the people from my street.

I practically lived at my grandmother’s—she was still in Queens while I was in Long Island, so I feel like I had two childhoods. Queens was a little more tough, and Long Island was where I built my foundation of friendships and family. But I loved both.

Were you into music?

Music was always in my household. My grandfather had a basement where he played records—lots of Caribbean music because my grandparents were from the islands. There was also a lot of Motown and hip-hop from my dad. Growing up in New York, Broadway and Madison Square Garden were like my backyard. I saw every Broadway play and went to a lot of concerts with my mom. I was in band for a short time—I played the drums—and I was in chorus, but neither felt right. Once it wasn’t a requirement, I was out. Sports were more important to me.

Do you remember any standout concerts at MSG?

I saw Usher on his birthday, which was a big one. I also saw a lot of shows at Nassau Coliseum since it was closer to my house.

I also saw Plain White T’s at my local mall. Justin Bieber actually ended mall concerts for all of us—so many people showed up that they had to stop hosting them.

That’s so fun. So, you went to college and then full speed ahead?

Not quite. Freshman year, I focused on partying. [Laughs] My mom was like, “I’m not paying for this for nothing.” So sophomore year, I got serious, started caring about my classes and went to the career center. I knew I loved entertainment—sports, TV, film, music—but didn’t know where I fit. I applied to Universal thinking it was just a film company, and I also applied to sports jobs. Universal was the first to call me back, along with the Staten Island Yankees. I almost took the Yankees job, but the first day, I realized it wasn’t for me.

Universal kick-started everything. Walking into their building on Broadway was nuts. It was eight floors of pure energy, and I knew I wanted to be part of it. That’s when my drive really started. I loved taking the train every day, and it put a pep in my step. I changed my major, basically making up my own since we didn’t have a music history major. I also interned at MSG, which filled my sports void, but nothing matched how the record label felt.

What was your trajectory within Universal?

I started as an intern, then temped for about a year before moving to Classics/Verve for another year. Then I went back to Republic. I basically never left the building—I temped in any department I could. I even temped for Steve Gawley, who’s now the lawyer I’ve worked with. I started at Universal before I was 21 and left at 25.

What was next?

I moved to Nashville and went to Cornman Music with Brett James. That was an amazing experience. I worked with some incredible songwriters—Caitlyn Smith, Steven Lee Olsen, Brett himself, Josh Mirenda, Josh Miller, Kip Moore. I got to see all types of writers, and it gave me range. Then I went to BMG eight months later.

Tell me about that time.

I worked for Kos Weaver, and he was amazing. I was there for about two and a half years until he left. He was a great boss—he really focused on the individual and results. He asked, “What do you want?” I told him I never wanted to run a company—which is ironic now—and that I just wanted to be a VP of a publishing company and build my roster. That’s what we worked toward.

My first signing was Emily Landis, who wrote “The Good Ones” with Gabby Barrett. She had just been dropped from her last deal, and we set a two-year goal to get a single on the radio. And two years later, we got it. That was a huge moment. I also worked with Russell Dickerson, Lindsay Ell, Nate Cypert, Busbee’s writers and a lot of pop writers. We were building a team, and then—the pandemic.

Yeah, that thing.

I tried doing the Zoom thing, but I’m a visual learner. Sitting on a laptop for hours pitching songs wasn’t fulfilling. I felt myself drifting, and I told my husband, “I don’t think I need to be here anymore.”

Around that time, I met Ashley Cooke, and she was open to ideas I suggested and learning along with me. I told her, “You have all these TikTok followers but they have nothing to listen to—let’s fix that.” We put out one song together before I left BMG. Then I met Blake Pendergrass and Lily Rose, and that’s when I left and started my company. It happened fast—I left BMG on a Friday, and on Monday, Back Blocks Music was born.

That’s so brave.

Yeah, I think it surprised everyone, but that’s what makes it fun. You have to love what you’re working on. I only take risks on people I believe in. I only want to work with people who want to work with me. That’s the difference between being independent and working for a corporation. You’re personally invested. That’s why I pass on a lot and sign slow.

When did you first feel validation that it was going to work?

I think when Ashley got On The Verge—that really felt like a big win. Even though so many things happened before that, it felt like radio believed in her. And that’s such a big hurdle for females. Tucker [Wetmore’s] success has been validating, too, because it was really important to me to break a male artist.

Seeing how much the town has loved on Blake Pendergrass. He is the kind of talent that reminds you why hard work always wins. His relentless drive, sharp instincts and pure dedication to the craft have been undeniable. Part of being a songwriter isn’t just about landing the perfect line or cut—it’s about rebooking the room. Blake is the pure definition of that, showing up with full ideas, verses, and choruses, ready to connect with artists and writers across all genres. And without fail, I always get a call after a session saying the same thing: We need to write with him again. Not just for one song but to help create the album. His work ethic doesn’t just push him forward; it reinforces what Back Blocks stands for—championing the ones who show up, outwork the rest and keep the bar high.

What would you say is your favorite part of your job now?

The beginning is still my favorite. I love that raw, vulnerable stage—when there’s no music recorded yet, just learning each other, figuring out what works.

There are so many fun moments after that, but that early stage—before they become a butterfly—that’s my favorite. Late nights, talking about dreams, their favorite venue to play, who they want to collaborate with. We put it all on a wall and start working toward it. It’s a beautiful process.

Who have been your mentors?

My bosses at Republic were huge for me—Gary Spangler, Monte Lipman and Avery Lipman, and more —they’ve all been part of my career forever.

Shani Gonzalez was a major influence on me. Even though we didn’t spend years together, seeing her presence at BMG was everything. It was the first time I saw a reflection of myself, and I thought, “I want to be like her.” In the time we did have together, I was constantly learning. She taught me how to handle things, what deals to make, what deals not to make.

It might sound cliche, but my husband is a mentor to me too. Ben Vaughn was great to me. I’m really thankful for Brett James taking a chance on me. I love talking to Candice Watkins, because we have a lot in common and she is someone I really admire.

You became a mom around the same time you launched Back Blocks. What’s it been like juggling everything?

It’s been hard but rewarding. I didn’t plan to get pregnant back-to-back while starting a company, so it was a lot all at once. Meeting the artists’ needs while making sure I’m present as a mom is tough—you’re either missing out on music class but making the music video, or skipping the music video to be at music class.

Postpartum didn’t exist for me—I went right back to work. No pats on the back, no grace period. That was really hard. I’m getting better at the balance, knowing what I need to be at and what I don’t. Having clients who understand is huge.

Moms and work need to be a bigger conversation. We’re still expected to show up, even if our kid just threw up on us five seconds before the meeting. I’ve breastfed at every artist event I’ve been to. It doesn’t stop, but I think I’m better for it.

When you look to the future, what do you see for yourself?

I hope my company’s still buzzing. I want to have every department grown out. I live very much in the moment, so I don’t look too far ahead. I’d like to think if you look too far, you can get lost in the future. And I’m not guaranteed to be here in five years, so I focus on the now more.

But I do want my company to grow. I want to have more artists, continue to be a strong representation for country music, and have a staff that stands on their own and proud to work at back blocks

What advice would you give someone if they wanted to do what you do?

Confidence is key. If you dream it, believe it, and say it out loud. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise—especially men.

Remember, someone is always watching you. Be a great example. That’s what I tell myself—especially when people may push buttons. [Laughs] I remind myself that there’s a girl coming up who needs to see me doing this.