WELCOME...

This blog is the outgrowth of a songwriting workshop I conducted at the 2006 "Moograss" Bluegrass Festival in Tillamook, Oregon. It presumes that after 30-odd years of writing and playing music, I might have something to contribute that others might take advantage of. If not, it may be at least a record of an entertaining journey, and a list of mistakes others may be able to avoid repeating. This blog is intended to be updated weekly. In addition to discussions about WRITING, it will discuss PROMOTION--perhaps the biggest challenge for a writer today--as well as provide UPDATES on continuing PROJECTS, dates and venues for CONCERTS as they happen, how and where to get THE LATEST CD, the LINKS to sites where LATEST SONGS are posted, and a way to E-MAIL ME if you've a mind to. Not all these features will show up right away. Like songwriting itself, this is a work in progress. What isn't here now will be here eventually. Thank you for your interest and your support.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

CURMUDGEONLY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE MUSIC BUSINESS...

A question from Lorelei Loveridge, founder and chief rabble-rouser of Performing Songwriters United Worldwide, about working conditions for performing artists in the music business, and what we’re doing (or can do) about it. Can one coax order out of chaos?

The chaos itself has order, I think. One framework that seems to come close to defining the music industry today is the old Soviet Union Communist Party. There was—the Soviets often pointed it out—intense competition within the Party, but only, be it noted, within the Party; there was no chance of advancement outside the Party, and who got what inside the Party was rather firmly in the hands of a handful of people. It does sound a lot like Nashville today, doesn’t it?

Officially classless, it’s a very stratified system, with folks at the top who control the Party and most of its functions, Party members benefiting from it, those in the Party but not benefiting from it, and those who are outside the Party altogether. I’m in the last group, and I don’t like it. On the other hand, I consider trying to become a Party member a waste of my time, because benefits—indeed, Party membership itself—are distributed if not arbitrarily, at least without reference to what one can do. I want to be invited to participate in a system that rewards talent, and I don’t think the music industry does either any more. So I deliberately work outside the system, at the same time that I complain about not being part of it.

To be sure, there are cracks in the music industry’s Iron Curtain. The Internet, which nobody controls (and therefore the music industry does not control) offers an alternative distribution system and publicity system—if anyone can figure out how to take advantage of it effectively. At this point, a lot of people are trying to do so, and I watch them, trying to puzzle out what works.

I think working conditions for performing artists—the ones not at the top of the food chain—are best described as “appalling.” Working bands are paid today the same as the Dodson Drifters made 30 years ago—only gas doesn’t cost a quarter a gallon any more, and cars aren’t under five grand, and medical insurance for a family isn’t $200 a month. The few people I know who are making a living as full-time musicians are working very hard, and living pretty close to the edge. These days, most performing artists need to have day jobs—and though it’s not much mentioned, their craft suffers because they don’t get to devote as much time to it.

What does one do? I tend to default to old solutions: I perform a lot, not so much to make money at it (though that would be nice) as to showcase the material (from a craft standpoint, I need to know if my stuff is any good, too, and only playing it to a live audience and seeing how they react will tell me that). I play a lot for free, and on the Internet my songs are playable and downloadable for free, because I’m not a household word yet. I try at every opportunity to get other people playing my stuff, and I return the favor by playing other independent writers’ stuff—cloning myself (and them) on a small scale.

The above is the business plan of the drug dealer—I will hook you with free samples, in the expectation of making money off you later. Yes, that entails a confidence in the product, but I expect I have that. The drug dealers were one of the few successful non-Party business groups in the old Soviet Union, so there’s an historical precedent, too. And when the Soviet Union finally collapsed (as I hope the music industry does also), the drug dealers had the first functioning business organization able to fill the breach. There is hope for the future, in other words. (I will need a day job first, however. I cannot make money off just being a musician.)

In general, as a traditionalist in music style (if not content), I see no point in gimmicks. I will do music videos (cheaply, of course), because that takes advantage of the visual orientation of modern society, but some of those videos will simply be performance videos—not everything is subject to “enhancement.” In the same vein, I’ll sell the next album on CDBaby, too, because it’s an alternative distribution network not part of the “Party apparatus.”

And of course, there’s a song in it. Besides the growing number of Failed Economy songs, I do have one about the music business—“Meet Me at the Stairs,” written back in 2001 as I was watching performers trying to peddle themselves and their wares at a bluegrass festival. Link is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songid=4841699 . Music reflects life. I just sometimes wish it didn’t reflect it so darkly.

Joe

No comments: