1. Focus on music not money. There’s too much talk about grosses and too much bitching about Spotify. Amazon rolls out robots and we all ooh and ahh, there’s forward motion in the music business and everybody complains. Change is inevitable, the future comes, the social landscape will be rearranged…best to acknowledge this and move forward as opposed to trying ineffectively to hold it back. Yes, people will lose their jobs because of Amazon robots, the same way recording studios closed and CD plants too. This is sad, but this has become the story of the music business, what we have lost instead of what we have gained. This sends the wrong message to the consumer. Yes, there are rabid fans embracing the work of artists. But in order for music to be healthy once again we need to reach the casual consumer, who can tell you the difference between the iPhone 6 and 6 Plus but not that between Iggy Azalea and Ariana Grande.

2. If you fail come back to the marketplace quickly. The Fire phone was a disaster. But instead of licking its wounds, Amazon is now hyping its aforementioned robots. When there’s a failure in the music business the act retires for a year or two and is oftentimes forgotten by time it returns. Create often. Failure is inevitable. One hit trumps a raft of disasters.

3. The SoundScan chart ruined music. Because there was a different number one each week. The business will burgeon when it becomes comprehensible, when the same tracks dominate for a period of time. The chart is all about satisfying the industry, not the consumer. The industry wants to divvy out number ones, wants to influence dying retail. But when a record slips off the chart it’s usually gone for good, whereas movies come and go on the chart but then they get another life on DVD, pay cable, Netflix… The film chart position pays long term dividends in terms of advertising. Music chart positions are momentary.

4. Focus on what people are listening to, not what they’re buying. Buying an album does not mean one listens to it, oftentimes people only listen to the hit. Streaming, whether it be on YouTube or Spotify, indicates what is truly popular. Note to the wannabe…not everything is popular, never was, never will be.

5. The “Voice” is good for television, it’s bad for music. Because it’s a karaoke show and the music business depends on a steady stream of new hits. We need to extol the songwriter, who is sometimes the performer, not the face. Otherwise we’re focusing on the zit, not the acne. And acne is an infection, and that’s the goal of music, to infect people.

6. Acknowledge the inability to get a song out of your head is a good thing. That’s the key to Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass.” You may go on in your holier-than-thou fashion that it sucks, but if you hear it once you can’t stop singing it to yourself. We need more of that.

7. Embrace experimentation. Today’s artists are so worried about losing traction that they just replicate what they’ve done before. Test limits.

8. Identity and edge are everything. All the tech titans have rough edges. Hell, Travis Kalanick has dominated the news cycle and Uber just gets bigger. Whereas “artists” dress up instead of down and keep paying penance to their sponsors. Who can believe in that?

9. Utilize your power. Musicians dominate social media. But they don’t use it to move music forward. Only oldsters like Bob Geldof and Bono seem to understand the power of music to open the discussion, to change things. Young artists can do this too. But they have to be educated, they have to realize the advantage, they have to understand that if you don’t stand for something, you don’t stand for anything at all.

10. The music business is the canary in the coal mine, everything happens to it first, yet everybody in it keeps complaining about this change. People run from those who whine, offer no insight and refuse to get with the program. Artists have to give hope. Hope to consumers who too are affected by the new world and are trying to navigate their way. Music needs to run shotgun with these people. Music needs to be indispensable. We’ve got to stop the warring within and acknowledge it’s nearly impossible to break through and boost those who do. The biggest story of the year was Taylor Swift’s media campaign and resulting sales. I wish she wasn’t a front for Max Martin, but everyone agreed her social media campaign was brilliant, the ancient sales construct of a million copies in a week was repeated everywhere, her disdain for Spotify made headlines. Why wasn’t there a concomitant news story when Avicii’s “Wake Me Up” became the biggest track in the history of Spotify? Why do you hate on EDM? Why do we not realize that music done right is not formula, but cutting edge variations on the bedrock basics? You’ve got to be able to sing, write and play or get out of the way. We’ve got to separate the pretenders from the winners. And your job is to dethrone said winners. Not to bitch that they’ve got your spot, but to do something better that trumps them.

How do you build a career from the ground up?

People pay lip service to this, but they want a shortcut, they want someone to help them, but just like in the rest of this Republican-defined nation you’re on your own in the music business, if you build it they may not come, but if you entice them, if you bond with them, you can build an audience and survive.

I was surprised to find people lined up two hours in advance.

I was further surprised when the auditorium filled up. Capacity is 700, there were more than 600 there, with only a few seats left in the balcony. And they paid to be part of Amanda Palmer’s book tour, $18-$23.

Think about that. Book tours used to be for free. Back when authors thought their audience was reviewers, instead of knowing that their audience was readers, and in today’s world unless you have a special, preexisting relationship with readers, you’re doomed. Publishing, like music, has little left in marketing funds. Either you can stay home or mobilize your fans. And if you haven’t started building a fan list years before, you won’t get much traction.

So the “show” began with Amanda reading. She knew the words were not enough, that it was about a PERFORMANCE! Honed during years on the road. The so-called 10,000 hours. I can read the book at home, but can I see the author enunciate slowly and emphasize the words therein? I won’t go to readings because that’s what authors believe they are. No, readings are performances. In this case with the lights low, with the audience enthralled.

And then Amanda surprised them. She performed. On the piano.

Audiences love surprises. Some rules of marketing always apply. Promise little, deliver more.

And then I interviewed her.

Wherein I learned Amanda considered her biggest mistake to be focusing on everyone instead of her core.

That’s the truth. Are you a pop artist or a niche one? Other than the Foos, all rock artists are niche, own it. Ariana Grande is pop. Taylor Swift declared herself pop. Mainstream country is equivalent to pop. Everybody else is toiling in the niches.

Have no illusions about it.

You’re never going to be a household name, certainly not for your music. In a world where it’s impossible to get everybody’s attention, only the mainstream does. So, be happy where you are. Don’t dream about world domination unless you have a direct pipeline to Max Martin, sorry.

But unlike so many of the popsters, Amanda was honest. She spoke from the heart about what others will not. About her abortion. About her decision, as of now, to not have children. We’re all confused, we all have more questions than answers, used to be our stars reflected our lives back upon us. Today they keep going on about how much better they are than us. Which is why pop comes and goes, but niche artists with fans are forever.

And Amanda’s “book doula,” Jamy Ian Swiss, performed some of his world class magic.

And then the assembled multitude asked questions.

More so, they testified. How Amanda was a beacon in their lives, how she got them through.

Now Amanda Palmer has become both a poster girl and a target for figuring out the newfangled game. She blogs, she tweets, she raises money on Kickstarter and considers her life her art. It’s all consuming. There’s no borderline between what’s on stage and what is not. Because today no one can hide behind the curtain. You must be three-dimensional, you must reveal your warts and your thoughts and…

So this is much different from those bitching about the high cost of the road, the low payments of Spotify, this is an artist who’s forging her own way, the way everybody used to do it when music drove the culture and you were addicted to your turntable and not your smartphone.

And it does not matter if you like her music, it does not matter if you become a fan, because it’s not for you…you skeptical soul who believes your chance has been stolen and therefore you must tear everyone else down.

The tools are at your disposal. Most of them can be utilized for free. But one thing necessary is inspiration, and then follow-through. Sounds simple, but they’re the core of art. Sure, you might be able to divine what’s a hit, but can you conjure one up all by your lonesome?

So, like in the rest of the world, there’s a divide between the haves and have-nots in the music world. And if you don’t have it and want it, you’ve got to play by the rules of those who do, following the pop formula above. Otherwise know that it’s now easier and cheaper to reach those who do care and monetize them than ever before.

As a result, Amanda Palmer’s book, “The Art Of Asking,” entered the “New York Times” nonfiction chart at number 7. Why did she get this deal with Hachette? Because she had 8 million views of her TED Talk and the publisher knew she would sell her book.

What are you doing to sell your music? Dunning gatekeepers who don’t care? Bitching online that the successful suck?

Look within. Make fans one by one.

Know that you too can be Amanda Palmer.

Oh no, you probably can’t. You can’t work hard enough in high school to get into Wesleyan. You can’t live without money in your bank account for most of your twenties. You can’t handle the rejection that comes along with the glimmer of adulation. You can’t get down into the pit with those who care, preferring to knock on the doors of those who don’t.

It’s simple.

But walking the steps is not.

“An Evening With Amanda Palmer: The Art of Asking Book Tour”

The Art of Asking (Signed Edition): How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help

As they should be.

Once upon a time our bands graduated to the arenas where the basketball teams played, now we’ve got our OWN PLACE!

That’s right, music lives at the Forum. And if you’ve never been, get in your automobile and make a pilgrimage to where there’s no scoreboard, no sports paraphernalia, only music. Where you can partake of the elixir that once was.

That’s right.

There may be screens, but this is positively a pre-MTV experience. Back when it was all about the music.

And it was all about the music last night.

It brought tears to my eyes. A hole has been filled. As Mick Fleetwood indicated, the circle is now complete. With Christine McVie back in the band the ship is righted, the Lindsey/Stevie show has a counterweight, and the balance is such that your baby boomer heart will thump and you’ll remember what once was and hopefully will yet be.

Listen to the wind blow
Watch the sun rise

Opening cut side two. We all bought the second album of this configuration of the band without being implored to do so but because we had to, the same way a kid today lines up for an iPhone.

That’s right, we’re sitting in the darkened arena and the band is singing about an unbreakable chain with Christine doing harmonies for the first time in sixteen years and Mick pounds the skins and John holds down the bass and Lindsey picks the notes and Stevie emphatically sings and you just cannot believe that this is happening. It’s not quite the Beatles coming together, but it’s close.

It was like hell freezing over and the Eagles reuniting but at a point in time where you could see the end in sight.

That’s right, even children get older, and I’m getting older too.

How did this happen?

In a world that’s trying to push us aside, one in which so little makes sense, where we don’t know the people in “People,” as the tunes washed over us we were comfortable in our own skin. Because if Stevie Nicks can admit her age, we can admit ours.

She told a long story. Of being born in 1948. It was astounding. This info is all over the web, but no one born before the sixties will say so. But Stevie told of meeting the one year younger Lindsey in San Francisco at age 17, forming a band, and slugging it out for TEN YEARS before she and he became who you know them as now.

They paid their dues. Which is why they’re so damn good.

OVER MY HEAD

You can take me to paradise
And then again you can be cold as ice

This was the one. We knew “Station Man,” we knew who the band was, but when this hit the airwaves we smiled, we became infatuated, the album infected the populace, we had a new favorite, based completely upon the music, image was secondary, there was so little info back then, all we had was what came over the speakers, unless we went to see them live, and when I saw them that summer at Anaheim Stadium opening for Loggins & Messina and Christine sang this from behind her electric piano a memory was forged that I cannot forget.

YOU MAKE LOVING FUN

That’s what my girlfriend told me.

It’s these little moments of honesty that stick with you, that make up a life. Back when you’re still exploring, when you’re not looking for Ms. Right Now but Ms. At All, when you still fumble, when you’re still insecure, but when your blood is frothing and connecting is the most important thing in the world to you. Actually, it still is.

DREAMS

Listen carefully to the sound of the loneliness

No one sings about this anymore, no one reflects upon the human condition, life is one big party with everybody connected and no one unhappy.

Hogwash.

Life is about alienation, about feeling DISCONNECTED! You’re looking for a rock to hold on to, and in the seventies it was music. That’s right, the SEVENTIES, they get a bad rep, but they were just as important as the sixties, when everybody knew how to play, you had twenty four tracks to record with and enough sound reinforcement equipment to render your sound live.

And we did all our listening at home. Music was not portable, the Walkman was years off. We’d sit in our bedrooms with our stereos, everyone had one, with our few albums and spin them throughout over and over again believing if we could just meet the people who made the music our lives would be complete. And that’s what it felt like last night, like the people on stage were gods, descended from the heavens, and if you could just tell Christine and Stevie your story they’d nod and understand. You went to the gig to get ever closer, to the sound that was keeping you alive.

I’M SO AFRAID

Guitar heroes. Before anybody could be a deejay, do you hear me Paris Hilton, guys stayed inside instead of playing sports and practiced and practiced until not only could they lay down the English licks but come up with some of their own.

If he wasn’t already in the R&RHOF with this band, Lindsey Buckingham would be entitled to membership based upon his performance last night, whereupon he wrung notes from his axe that we knew by heart that didn’t sound quite like anybody else’s, because the essence of greatness is forging your own way, not hiring the gun of the moment to replicate what everybody else does. That’s right, if the under thirty generation were exposed to Lindsey’s picking Guitar Center’s revenues would skyrocket, because not only are you mesmerized you can’t stop wondering how he does it and wonder if you can too.

WORLD TURNING

Another Lindsey extravaganza…

Everybody’s trying to say I’m wrong

Just go on the internet, naysayers abound, raise your head and they’ll try to make you conform to their vision, whereupon they forget you and go on to stalk other prey. To be an individual in 2014 is harder than ever, let your freak flag fly and you’re derided.

Maybe I’m wrong but who’s to say I’m right

Got that? Not the extreme confidence of the techies who never look inward, who never question themselves, who only plow forward. And unlike digits, life is complicated, chiaroscuro, anybody who says they’ve got the answers is lying or deluded. And what we needed was the fury of sound in our ears to keep us hewing to our own path. We sang these songs to ourselves to help us through, we still do.

DON’T STOP

Bill Clinton’s theme song.

I’m not sure if tomorrow will be better than before, but I’m sure as hell that yesterday’s gone. How can that be? I can handle losing my hair, that’s exterior, but why do I have all these aches and pains? Why has society decreed that I no longer count? Why is “old” a pejorative?

I know that what I used to think was important is not. That our nation is inundated with hype, it’s one big enterprise based on making you feel inadequate as it sells you stuff you don’t want and don’t need. Cars are an appliance, the movies are irrelevant and you start to realize it’s only about yourself and your own experiences, everything peripheral fades away, what remains is a few good meals, and a bunch of conversation, life is not what’s in your wallet but what goes in your eyes and ears.

Tomorrow is here every damn day.

And I’m thrilled to wake up and see it.

SONGBIRD

It was Christine’s evening. It was only fitting they rolled out her piano and she finished the evening with this.

Imagine walking over a hill and seeing your high school class intact. Older, wiser, but still here.

That never happens anymore. The sick and the dying make it impossible. And if Malcolm Young can get dementia, that means you can too. You feel invulnerable, but that’s positively false. They’ll get you in the end. And all your survivors will have is their memories, of you and so much more.

We don’t have pics. We’d meet someone and recognize them the next time by the image in our brain. We weren’t always in touch. And we made a pilgrimage to the show to experience the one constant, the music.

We know these songs by heart. These expressions of joy, trial and tribulation that mirrored our own experiences. We may not have been in a band, but we broke up, ran into our exes, tried to figure out how to soldier on. But now our parents die. The world changes. And we can’t make sense of it all.

But then you go to the Forum to see Fleetwood Mac and you’re stunned. That they can still do it, that they still want to do it, and everybody is here, everybody feels just like you.

Fleetwood Mac was unique. Not only because they had a long history before they broke through, were a blues band that morphed into something completely different, but because of the yin and yang, the women counterbalancing the men. Stevie and Christine inspired because they weren’t trying to be boys, they were positively women demonstrating that was enough.

And we loved them for it.

And it was palpable last night.

As Christine tickled the ivories, illustrating once again that music is a skill, that must be developed, that we marvel at.

As Stevie told the tale of her dream coming true, imploring us to follow ours.

As Lindsey admitted he was once closed off and is now open. Personal development, we’ve all gone through it. The youngsters think they know everything, we know no one can.

And the two constants, John and Mick, held down the bottom, pumped the blood through the system, looking worse for wear, but able to do so as efficiently as ever.

Shall we all live long and prosper.

Well, at least longer and happier.

I know I’m happier after last night.

“Pomplamoose 2014 Tour Profits”

I don’t hate Jack Conte.

I hate the people who are forwarding me this blog.

What don’t you get about capitalism? The law of supply and demand?

What I hate about artists is the constant bitching, as if the world owed them a living. I’ll go on record once again that I believe in a social safety net, I believe no one should starve, everybody should have a roof over their head, even health care, but no one is entitled to be a successful artist.

But what the internet has wrought is a bunch of sour grapes from people who think someone stole their opportunity, that if only there’d been no online, they’d have a deep-pocketed label to support them, that they’d be rolling in dough.

Hogwash.

Let’s start with the audience. Who don’t want to come to your show.

That’s right. The way artist development used to work was there was a series of clubs across the country, which the labels supported. The companies bought drinks and tickets and the venues could survive. But what killed these venues is not the internet so much as people’s lack of desire to attend. They’d rather go hear a deejay. Or go to a sports bar. Going out to hear live music in a club just doesn’t have the pull it once did. Which may flummox those of you on the music treadmill, but get your head out of your rear and look around, most people just don’t care that much about live club music anymore. And don’t blame it on the internet, you can’t steal a show. Then again, the internet is more interesting than most music you make.

But you decide to hit the boards anyway. You record your music, bitching all the while that no one else is paying for it. Wait, let’s stop right here. Now we’ve got crowdfunding sites, so you can raise the money to record. But not a single act has ever broken out of Kickstarter. What I mean is crowdfunding is an echo chamber. You reach your fans, but you reach no more. Probably because most people just aren’t interested. Sorry.

And then you can’t get an agent and no venue wants to book you, and you don’t realize that they too want to get paid, that they too are in business.

But let’s say you get shows via an agent. You want to do it your way, with production and support. I’d like to drive an i8, but I can’t afford one. Furthermore, I’m not presently on a path to afford one. That’s my choice. But I don’t go around bitching the system’s stacked against me, that BMW won’t give me a break, that the world isn’t raining coin into my bank account.

Music is a business. And if you’re not getting rich, give up or change.

So Pomplamoose goes on the road and loses money. Why’d they go on the road to begin with? It says right in the article it’s an investment in their career. Good for them. But to believe labels supported everybody in this way in the past is fallacious. Labels signed very few. And they didn’t support those whose careers weren’t happening. Want to experience bitter? Talk to a baby boomer who was signed to the label. If the label didn’t work it you were dead in the water, there was no YouTube, no social media, no way to cheaply reach your audience. Labels pulled tour support just after rehearsals. You were beholden to the man. You’re yearning for those days?

And Pomplamoose is bitching that they didn’t make any money even though they sold 1129 tickets at the Fillmore in San Francisco.

Please put that in perspective. San Francisco is the 14th most populous city in America, hell, it’s the center of a metropolis with many more people, San Jose is close and even bigger than San Fran, but they could only do one show there?

And then there’s all this claptrap about the million view YouTube clips. They’re novelties! Sing one Pomplamoose song, I dare you! Pomplamoose is Jenna Marbles once removed. Do you hear YouTube queen Ms. Marbles bitching that she can’t make it on the road?

OF COURSE NOT!

Jenna is leveraging what she’s got. And she’s not complaining. Which is pretty good, because her talent is limited.

I’d say the same thing about Pomplamoose. It is the MUSIC business after all. Where’s the music? So Nataly is cute and the videos contagious. OK Go can say the same thing, but I don’t see Damian Kulash bitching. And I hope Damian knows he’s the leader of a cult band, because that’s what OK Go is, and they were once on Capitol!

But Jack goes on how bleak it is for middle class artists.

And he’s right, the middle is getting squeezed. Because everybody has access to the best all the time. Want to bring back the middle? Stop shopping at Amazon, stop going to Wal-Mart. Pay a grand for a flat screen. Drive miles for your music.

I’m not saying times are not challenging. But I am saying let’s look at reality.

With the entire history of recorded music online, you’ve got to be as good as the Beatles and Led Zeppelin or else…most people are not interested. Believe me, if Led Zeppelin reunited they wouldn’t be bitching about money.

And neither does Katy Perry.

And you may say she sucks, but her producer/writer Max Martin does not. He knows how to create a hit. Which you don’t. Sorry.

That’s what I hate about the modern era. The cabal of cretins lamenting the system is stacked against them. It’s an echo chamber of delusion. The same way they used to say the major label was holding them back. It’s fifteen years after Napster. Show me all the great bands who were being held back by the man, they don’t exist. It’s all sour grapes.

But you forward articles about Spotify screwing you.

Everybody’s against you.

You’re a student of the game. You believe since you’re passionate, you deserve not only a chance, but success.

But the truth is everybody wants to play. And the sieve to success is extremely narrow. Because people don’t have time for mediocre, they don’t even have time for good! That’s right, Windows Phone can’t compete with Apple and Android and it’s a very good product, but not good enough!

But you think you are. Since you went to Guitar Center and bought an axe. Because you practiced in your bedroom and spammed everybody on social media.

I’m gonna tell you how it works. And it’s very simple.

It’s all about numbers. You’re either growing or you’re not. Either more people are consuming your art or they’re not. If you’re on the growth curve, you have the option of continuing, of even starving in the pursuit of your dream. But most people are not growing, they’re only bitching.

Evolve or die.

Ever think you weren’t destined to be a musician? That you’d be better off at the tech company? That if you hate your service job you’ve got to educate yourself and do something different?

Why does everybody believe they’re entitled to do everything?

Why does everybody have a chip on their shoulder?

Why is it that anybody who breaks through is the enemy, helped by the unseen machine?

Instead of tearing everybody else down, crying alone in your beer, why don’t you build yourself up.

That’s right, no one’s holding you back but yourself.

If you’re as great as you think you are, you’ll succeed. On what level? Who knows!

Maybe this is as big as Pomplamoose gets. Maybe the act has already peaked. Like PSY but on a smaller level. Maybe this tour document isn’t an explanation of middle class musicianship but the dying throes of someone who eluded the mainstream.

That’s right.

If you’re not a successful artist it’s your fault.

Over and out.