Who the fuck cares?

This is like reporting some kid learned how to add in Afghanistan today.  Sure, a positive note in a sea of bad news, but isn’t that just the point, the plethora of bad news?

Did I miss a memo here?  Can Susan Boyle write great material?  And believe me, that’s the key.  Plenty of people with shitty voices can top the hit parade.  No, she covers the Stones classic "Wild Horses" and the Monkees classic "Daydream Believer". This album has the nutritional value of Froot Loops, and the lasting value of a Christmas album.  But at least Christmas comes once a year!  Performers don’t get another bite at the apple, their fifteen minutes of fame are up…and they’re truly up!

The press and industry fawning over this is hilarious.

We’ve got Steve Barnett testifying about everything from CDs to adult buyers to…

It’s train-wreck value!  Yes, it’s a story.  Not fully mentally-equipped unattractive stout woman has a much better than average voice and via TV drama, becomes a YouTube/worldwide sensation.

So, what do we do now?  Record amputees?  Those who’ve lost their larynxes and sing via voice boxes?  Even "Queen For A Day" ran its course on TV.  I don’t see this paradigm having any legs.

Because it’s always the same.  It starts with the material.

Sure, your looks, your image is important.

But if you get someone to buy something once, they’ll only buy again if they played the first album, if they think you’re good enough to see live.

How many people bought this album to prank their friends?

Hell, I didn’t se that statistic anywhere.  Wouldn’t you love to put this on at a holiday party and catch your buddies’ hipster reactions?  That’d be worth fifteen bucks.

As for the CD to digital ratio…  So now we’re gonna use Susan Boyle to illustrate that the physical format is not dead, that digital’s a joke?  While you’re at it, why don’t you deep six your cell phone and go back to a landline.  Better yet, trash your Mac and go back to a typewriter.

Is this good for the business?

Didn’t cause anything else to sell in quantity.  Not like when the Beatles broke and we got not only the Dave Clark Five, but Gerry & the Pacemakers, Herman’s Hermits, the Kinks and…

This is like the hula-hoop.  Fun for fifteen minutes and then forgotten.

Celine Dion may be an idiot, but at least she can sing.  And even she can’t sell a record anymore.

So, TV still sells shit.  What a concept!  Like we didn’t know this?  That you can still break acts on television?  But why not talk to A Flock of Seagulls or Haircut 100 or that "Rico Suave" guy and ask how long it lasts.  Yup, TV stars are like rockets.  They blast into the stratosphere, everybody’s attention is caught for fifteen minutes, and then they burn up or fall back to earth and everybody scatters.

The SuBo story is akin to the White House party crashers.  Interesting, but insignificant.

When is this business going to stop focusing on the irrelevant and deal with reality?

But reality is so ugly.  And we can slop our bullshit on ignorant writers who will believe what we’re telling them is truly a story.

Like anybody reads the newspaper for music business news.  At best, newspapers are good for war stories, truly broad-based citizen eruptions.  But the mainstream is clueless when it comes to culture, when it comes to expertise on niche.  But online, you can get in-depth analysis of tiddly-winks.  Because those with knowledge and passion are reporting for free!

Do I have a problem with Susan Boyle selling 700,000 albums last week?

Not whatsoever.

Can we analyze why she sold that quantity and Adam Lambert moved merely 200,000?  Sure.  Because Adam hasn’t got as good a backstory and he doesn’t have a ubiquitous hit, whereas Susan Boyle’s album IS NOT EVEN ABOUT THE MUSIC!

Furthermore, do we really want to get that excited about selling fewer than a million albums in a country of three hundred million?

Most people don’t care.

The question is how do we get most people to care.

Or how we get most people interested in music, so that when we add up all the niches we end up with a stratospheric number.

That comes down to quality and credibility.  Which Susan Boyle will NEVER possess.

NEXT!

From: Scott Hudson
Subject: Too Much Joy on Digital Royalties
Date: December 1, 2009 1:55:33 PM PST
To: Bob Lefsetz

Hello Mr. Lefsetz,

I was forwarded this link earlier today, and I believe you may find it interesting how Warners handles digital royalties on bands no longer on their roster.

http://www.toomuchjoy.com/?p=1397

_____________________________________

I didn’t read this e-mail until 8 PM.

And I immediately tweeted about it.

There are two kinds of people.  Those who use Twitter and those who don’t.

Please don’t fall into the second category.

This ain’t no MySpace, this ain’t no Facebook, this is information, plain and simple.

Forget the hype, that it’s those without lives listening to the minutiae of others.  Sure, there are those who update their whereabouts on a regular basis.  And those who think Twitter is purely for hype.  Hell, I’ve now learned that Ian Rogers is not a discerning listener.  Makes me wonder about Topspin.  He’s constantly tweeting that the music of every act the company works with is good.  That’s utter hogwash. Especially when the tunes are outside his normal flavor field.

Yes, you can learn a lot reading between the lines.

But you can also gain a ton of information.

First and foremost, you must make Twitter comprehensible.

Use Tweetdeck

When it asks to install Adobe Air, just say yes. Adobe Air powers all the hip new software, like the New York Times Reader (It’s free if you’re a print subscriber.)  The Reader is much faster than your browser.  And more comprehensible.

And that’s what Tweetdeck is all about, comprehension.  It makes Twitter understandable, listing the tweets of those you follow, those that reference to you…  There are a lot of "hidden" tricks in the app.  Like click on someone’s name, and a column appears delineating all their details.  Play around.

But only if you’ve got a lot of RAM and a fairly new computer.

As for competing products…  Start with Tweetdeck.  Power users have favorites, but I don’t want to overwhelm you.

So, I got this e-mail about the Too Much Joy royalty statement and upon reading it immediately tweeted about it.

And then my Tweetdeck notifications went berserk.  People were retweeting my tweet.

In other words, the word was spreading.

How fast and how far?

To the point wherein minutes, the Webpage referenced was inaccessible, a data error showed up if you got anything at all.

Sure, this illustrates that if you’ve got information to purvey, be sure to have enough horsepower to get it out there.

But more importantly, that interesting information spreads like wildfire.  Instantly.  And far.

How far?

I’ve only got a fraction of my regular e-mail list following me on Twitter.  I don’t want to overload your inbox, especially with just raw information.  So I tweeted as opposed to e-mailed.

It wasn’t until the middle of the next day that I got a single e-mail about this Too Much Joy post.  In other words, those relying on nineties technology, which e-mail is, were a step behind.

Notice, "Hits" didn’t write about it.  It seems that they’ve buried the hatchet with Lyor/Warner and don’t want to piss anybody off.

The aforementioned "New York Times" doesn’t think this is a big enough story and has no infrastructure anyway.  They’ve got Ben Sisario writing about the music business and..?  Meanwhile, if something is written on one of their blogs…NO ONE READS THEIR BLOGS!

But if you’re a musician, if you’re a dedicated follower of music, this Too Much Joy post was pure gold.  Proof that the major labels’ business paradigm is theft.  Plain and simple.

Tim Quirk just wants what is owed to him.  A statement.

Warner can’t even deliver that.  And when the company does, it’s inaccurate.

Furthermore, Tim reveals the fallacy of recoupment.  It’s not dollar for dollar, but based on your royalty rate.  So, you might still be underwater, but your company can be rolling in dough!

Believe me, you can automate these processes.  You can deliver accurate royalty statements on time.  But the major labels don’t want to. Apple has a history of everything I’ve purchased.  But somehow the label can’t find this info.  It’s just data.  Computing power and the Internet can put this at your fingertips.

What happens first?  Do the labels enter the twenty first century or do musicians avoid them?

We already have our answer.  It’s the latter.  Major labels sign few artists, and screw them in the process.  If they can’t account to you on digital sales, raw data, do you really trust them with other revenue streams in your 360 deal?

The labels are old school.  And everybody knows it.

Except maybe the mainstream press.  Which is just as ancient in its thinking as the labels.

I was frustrated, I thought this story had no legs.  But then I read this "Billboard" article:

A Not So Funny Warner Royalty Statement

(and why can’t "Billboard" render properly in Safari, since Macs are the platform of choice for musicians) interviewing Mr. Quirk.

The story was picked up by the "Village Voice" blog, "Daily Swarm", "Hypebot", me and the "Onion AV" blog.  And if you don’t know the power of the "Onion AV", you probably run a major label.

The word got out.  Not via the mainstream.  Those who needed to know saw it.  So, unlike straight news stories that have no traction because someone shortly thereafter gets kidnapped or killed, the target audience read and digested Tim Quirk’s story.

How you gonna convince people not to steal when you’re stealing yourself?

The record industry never pondered that question.

You could have been there first.  You could have seen the story on Twitter.  As opposed to being the last to know.

What do you not know?

That’s what’s killing the major labels, what they don’t know.

And we live in an information society.  And your so-called enemy, the public, now has access to all kinds of data.  Great info finds its audience.  Great music finds its audience also.  Ever think that the reason few new acts break is because the music’s not good enough?

I know, that’s heresy.  Stone me.

But if you hear something good you tell everybody you know.

Via social media.  Via Twitter.

LOVE HAS NO PRIDE

A revelation.

Have you ever been left?

It hurts bad enough to go first, you’re wracked with guilt.  But when you’re left behind, you’re truly at loose ends.  You were the last to know.  Usually your beloved decided to move out, to dump you long before.  They’re over the emotional hump.  You’re just beginning.

How many times have I heard "Love Has No Pride"?

Written by Eric Kaz and Libby Titus, I was first exposed on Bonnie Raitt’s second album, "Give It Up".  Twenty years later, Bonnie cut an album just as good, maybe even better, "Luck Of The Draw", but for a long time "Give It Up" was my favorite, and the best.

Although Chris Smither’s "Love Me Like A Man" is usually cited as the album’s centerpiece, the end of first side killer, I was more enamored of side two, which began with "Too Long At The Fair".

Now unavailable in its fast, vinyl version, the slowed-down digital take still haunts.

And then we’re straight into Jackson’s "Under The Falling Sky".  A tear in a way the original is not.  Then the oldie, "You Got To Know How".  Then the unexpected blitz of "You Told Me Baby".

Only Bonnie can deliver this material.  Intelligent, with an edge.  We’ve got wimpy girls and slow-witted ones too.  But women with a mind, who aren’t afraid of speaking it…whew!  That’s the essence of Bonnie Raitt’s appeal.  She’s your fantasy girlfriend.

And then comes "Love Has No Pride".  The slow album closer.  The wimpy radio song.

Until just now.  When I saw Bonnie perform it with Crosby & Nash at Madison Square Garden.  It was a little slower, and it was all about the message.

But if you want me to beg, I’ll fall down on my knees
Asking for you to come back
I’d be pleading for you to come back
Begging for you to come back to me

Yes, you eventually do sacrifice your pride.  After long torturous nights, on both sides of the raging debate in your head.  You swallow your pride, you’re honest.  You call them up and reveal your truth.

But it makes no difference.  They’re already gone.

This is a real story, one we almost all live eventually.  Grasping…for air.

Sure, it’s about the song.  To create something so exquisite leaves the rest of us marveling.  But it’s more than the changes, more than the words. It’s comes down to the delivery.  World-weary, having plied the boards for four decades, Bonnie Raitt delivered "Love Has No Pride" in such a way that I both related and was creeped out, I try to keep those emotions buried.

It was the highlight of the first half of the show.

THE PRETENDER

I’m going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Thought true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the Pretender
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender

When these words poured out of the FM speaker in the fall of ’76 the term "yuppie" had not yet been coined.  Greed had not been legitimized.  We were just emerging from the hangover from the sixties.  Politics were taboo, but we were in a period of self-discovery.

Whilst Jackson was singing about human emotions, charlatans like Werner Erhard were selling personal development programs, insisting that they could wipe away a lifetime of hurt, a lifetime of bad deeds in a weekend.  We wanted to be content, we wanted to be happy idiots.

We now are.

We live in a world of consumerism.  People are not concerned with family life so much as what money can buy.  And this goes for the religious zealots too.  The "Atlantic" placed part of the blame for the economic crisis at the feet of the religious right.  Telling their flock that they were entitled to a life of plenty.

Jackson delivered his number in an understated fashion.  But when he reached the above lyrics he belted them out, over an audience of winners who overpaid to be up close to what once was.

GREAT BALLS OF FIRE

I keep my distance from Jerry Lee Lewis.  I remember that exhaustive story in "Rolling Stone" wherein the suspicious deaths of those around him were delineated.

But years later, in the twilight of his life, delivering his rockin’ original purely solo, the words stood out, they evidenced their truth.

I’m real nervous, but it sure is fun

Who hasn’t been anxious about asking that girl to dance?  Worried that the momentum built up in your head won’t sustain.

Rock and roll doesn’t only speak to your genitalia, it also speaks to your head and heart.

LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH

In concert, the CSN show is pure nostalgia.

But strangely, their segment worked on HBO.  Because of Stephen’s playing.

Anybody can have technique.  You can pull up prepubescents on YouTube who can hit all the notes, replicate famous solos, dazzle with their speed.  But it’s he who develops his own sound, that we hear and recognize instantly, that are truly Hall of Fame material.

Thirty nine years ago, Stephen Stills was the biggest act in the business.  His solo album sat on the mantel of baby boomers throughout the land. Revisit it, you’ll be stunned.

Stephen’s worse for wear, but it’s still him.  Dig him now, he won’t be around forever.

SUPERSTITION

It was written for Jeff Beck.  Stevie delivered it to the guitar maestro and then had second thoughts, he decided to record it himself.  "Superstition" was Stevie Wonder’s breakthrough.  All these years later, "Sunshine Of My Life" is the most famous track off "Talking Book", but it was "Superstition" that exploded Stevie Wonder, let him leave the "Little" appellation behind.

Sure, he’d put out "Music Of My Mind", had even toured with the Stones, but "Superwoman" got very limited airplay.  But the clavinet underpinning of "Superstition" could not be denied.  Stevie Wonder rode the track straight into the American mainstream, where he went on to deliver on the promise, releasing three more albums just as good as "Talking Book", and they don’t get any better.

Meantime, Jeff Beck ultimately cut an abysmal, bottom-heavy take of "Superstition" with Carmine Appice and Tim Bogert and then went jazz-rock, and was forgotten by the hoi polloi.

Until last night.

I credit Harvey Goldsmith.

Beck’s been great forever.  Never lost a step.  As hot today as he was in the Yardbirds, as he was when he worked with Rod Stewart.  His fleet fingers are dancing over so many records.  But only when Eric Clapton had to pull out of this Hall of Fame gig did Jeff Beck get his chance.  I’m sure Harvey made it happen.

And boy did Jeff deliver.

Yup, almost four decades after Stevie Wonder retrieved his career-breaking hit, he called Jeff Beck on stage, to wail, to play along.

And boy did he.  Wail.

This was not nostalgia.  This was not quaint.  When Beck worked out, it was positively 2009, positively alive.  Live long enough, and maybe you get your due.

BRUCE

It’s tough.  He’s become an institution.  If you criticize him, you’re Un-American.  His followers have become like Palinistas, their man can do no wrong.

He worked really hard.  But his voice was lacking…  Maybe he’d done too many dates.  He was great on "Pretty Woman" with John Fogerty, but he lacked the transcendence we’ve all seen him deliver in the past.

But the E Street Band?  They killed!

Clarence nailed his sax solo.  Roy tickled the ivories.  And Max Weinberg evidenced restraint.  He didn’t call attention to himself, he just provided the underpinning.

The rangers had a homecoming in Harlem late last night

That’s why we go to the show.  To go home.  To where we’re understood, where we’re our best selves.

I went to the Bottom Line on a sweltering June night back in ’74, a year before "Born To Run" was released.  "The Wild, the Innocent, & the E Street Shuffle" had become my favorite album.  I had to see the man perform.

It wasn’t difficult getting a ticket.  But I got there two hours early, ate an overpriced salad in a plastic boat, just to be within mere feet of the stage.  I could have sat in the very first row, but I left two empty chairs between me and the platform, I wanted to be far enough away to get pristine sound, to take it all in.

The stage was crowded with players.  The songs on the albums came alive.  But the moment of transcendence came deep into the set, on a brand new number, "Jungleland".

The midnight gang’s assembled and picked a rendezvous for the night
They’ll meet ‘neath that giant Exxon sign that brings this fair city light

It used to be Esso.  It had only been Exxon for a year or so.  Standard Oil of New Jersey coming up with this non-word that they could brand their company with throughout the world.

You see Bruce Springsteen was new, he was ours.  He didn’t endure the war, he didn’t grow up in poverty in some godforsaken gray city in England.  He was a baby boomer.  Born into the land of plenty, New Jersey.

What a complicated place, the Garden State.  In places gorgeous, in others a dump.  But it’s got the beach.  The land of romance.

Yes, Bruce Springsteen grew up in Asbury Park.  Where money wasn’t short, but support was.

Our parents had grown up hard.  They knew how to provide, put food on the table, they just didn’t know how to relate.

Bruce sang of this.  Of hopes and dreams.

It’s not about this song or that, it’s about what he represented.  Liberation from a society that said you had to go to the right school, had to look a certain way.

I find it ironic that the bankers who bought up the good seats at the Garden are such Boss fans.  If they were made fun of in school, at least they got straight A’s, so they could go to an Ivy League school, so they could rape and pillage as an adult.  Bruce was a loser with a capital "L".  Winning nowhere.  And through hard work and belief in himself, he triumphed.

And he’s been on an endless victory lap for decades.

Because he didn’t foresee this.  That little Bruce Springsteen could win, be a legend, rich in cash and adulation.

He married an actress.  Went to psychotherapy.  Got divorced.  Remarried.  Had a family.  Went solo.  Went folk.  Reformed the band and has been trying to find the proper direction ever since.

But at least he’s still alive, he’s still kicking.

So many of the greats are no longer here.  They used dope to get through.  They were loved, but they couldn’t fit in.  On the surface they looked like kings, but inside they lived a life of pain.

The ending of "Jungleland" was a triumph.  Of sheer power.  Of a man who played by his own rules and won.

And that’s rock and roll.

You take a bunch of ads in the usual publications and wait for the people to book.  That’s how Vail Resorts ran its business, until this year, when they pulled 80% of their print budget.

Wow.

I don’t follow "Ad Age".  And I don’t think any of the people who e-mailed me this video are skiers.  But I wrote about Rob Katz’s Twitter response to my frustration buying a Vail Resorts Mountain Meal Card and these "Ad Age" readers were primed, they now had a sensitivity to this executive, and when they watched this clip they forwarded it to me.

And that, my friend, is how you break an act today.

We don’t find out through the usual channels.  We may even miss your marketing message.  But someone who knows what we like, what we’re interested in, hips us to information, to music, and we check it out.

I already cruise enough sites, I’m not bookmarking "Ad Age".  But it’s on my network’s list, and I’m the beneficiary of their surfing.

Traditionally, ski guests booked their trips four to six months in advance.  Last year, it was frequently two to three weeks in advance.  If you blew your marketing budget months ahead of time, you were screwed.

In other words, the old print game no longer worked.  People now buy on impulse, when they have the desire.  They may be hunting for bargains, or maybe you get a plethora of snow and everybody wants to come at the same time and the price goes up!

So, all departments of your company must work together, and execute a constantly changing plan in real time.

Kind of like when the label rush releases an album when it leaks.

But more interesting are the plans set in stone based on singles breaking.  Then the single stiffs and…  There’s got to be a better way.  Maybe you sit with a bunch of tracks in the can, and when a single hits you rush release an album that very week.  Maybe you dribble out tracks and when you finally have a hit you package three or four at a discount price immediately.  You play by the consumer’s rules, not by the retailers’ rules.

That’s how media companies get screwed up, by worrying first and foremost about placating their old school partners.  Should you really worry about pre-orders when record retail is dying and only star product gets stocked anyway?  Shouldn’t you be driving digital sales?  Won’t physical take care of itself?

But most striking is Rob Katz’s riff on ski porn.  That’s those shots of expert skiers carving powder, hucking cliffs, that even makes it into commercials for other winter products.  This is what sells ski vacations most.  And this is what the Web is best for.

So, rather than spend old money on print, the indie radio promotion for a dying format, Vail goes directly to its consumers and puts a plethora of video on its site.

Unlike the record labels, who are constantly trying to withhold their product from the Web, Vail is using the low cost of the Internet to push the info people want.

But forget the ancient labels, what about the touring business?

Michael Rapino famously says 40% of tickets go unsold.

In other words, just like the family that has a condo is definitely going to the mountains, just like a superstar will sell out, the upside is in those who haven’t decided to come, to the ski resort, to the concert.

Ticketing sites should be a plethora of information.  You should be able to upload pix and videos of your good time at the show.  So surfers will want to partake, will want to be part of the good times.

Every show should have a video clip of the act in concert.  The DVD that the agency creates to close talent buyers should be available to the consumer, the end buyer.  Every venue should have videos of their buildings the same way you can go for a virtual tour of Vail Mountain on the ski resort’s site.  There should be testimonials.  Pix of guys winking at girls, vice versa.

In other words, the Web allows us to sell our product by demonstrating it, at a very low cost, but in the music business, too often the rights holders refuse.  And ticketing companies are so busy working out deals with acts and promoters, finagling kickbacks, that they don’t realize their true job is to sell tickets.  How do you make people want to come?

By music business standards, the "New York Times" Website would consist of a subscription form for the print edition, and nothing more.

Watch this video.  Rob Katz runs a billion dollar business.  And you might say you can’t steal a lift ticket online, but Vail competes against dozens and dozens of ski resorts, with nothing in common other than snow.  If a customer goes to Steamboat, Vail misses out, not only on lift tickets, but lodging, dining, equipment rental/purchase, a whole eco-system.

Furthermore, first class ski resorts are now experimenting with discounting.  Not for desirable days, but when the resort is empty.  They’ve signed up with Liftopia.  Live Nation gives tickets away at the last minute, ski resorts try to book some of that revenue during the sales window, in advance.

Then again, ongoing marketing is a joke in the live business.

Take an ad, sell the tickets.  After that?  More print ads, or nothing at all.

But is the public paying attention to print?

Where’s the Twitter feed for tickets?  Where are the deals?

Acts and promoters believe they’re entitled to the cash, and are stunned when not enough people show up.  Sure, you’ve got to have something desirable, something good.  But first, you’ve got to make people aware of it.  Second, you’ve got to price it properly.  Third, the offer has to be made when the customer is ready to make a decision.  Which now, more than ever, is at the very last minute.

Click the pic under "Ad Age Video" to play the clip