What Burning Sled does:

  • maintains digital download storefronts for Daron Hagen and Gilda Lyons on their websites
  • coordinates small rights matters with ASCAP
  • coordinates mechanicals with the Harry Fox Agency
  • coordinates grand rights matters with our licensing partner, Bill Rhoads and Associates
  • coordinates media relations with our media partner, the Craig Urquhart Office
  • coordinates the activities of our valued print fulfillment partners, Theodore Front Musical Literature and Classical Vocal Reprints
  • coordinates Daron's bookings as a stage director with Scott Levine Management
  • maintains the symphonic & operatic works rental catalogue
  • fulfills print orders for a very small number of vocal scores in stock
  • monitors and forwards Emails sent to Daron and Gilda through their websites
  • provides help to people looking for musical compositions by our composers promptly directing musicians to other publishers when necessary in order to find music. We also work to facilitate prompt fulfillment of orders by Carl Fischer, Schott, and E.C. Schirmer when they are slow to respond, or if there is some other problem.

Reach Us:

Burning Sled Music

347.684.1640 | Website | Email

140 East Market Street, Rhinebeck, NY 12572


Why Burning Sled?

We get this question a lot. A publisher needs a name. When it was time to choose ours, we thought of Rosebud, which was already taken. We've long admired the Kenosha-born one man band Orson Welles--particularly his great cinematic debut, Citizen Kane. The final tableux of the film consists of a tracking shot of Charls Foster Kane's effects--thousands of valuable works of art collected from around the globe--following his demise. What, a reporter asks, were Kane's last words? As "Rosebud" is whispered, a glimpse is caught of Charlie Kane's childhood sled being burned in a furnace; the effect is that of a dream's cremation. In what was perhaps his most autobiographical film, F is for Fake, Welles mused, "Our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war, or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash - the triumphs, the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life: we're going to die. 'Be of good heart,' cry the dead artists out of the living past. 'Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it? Go on singing.' Maybe a man's name doesn't matter all that much."