When You Kill Time, You Murder Success

I still remember the first time I saw someone wearing a Stiff Records shirt.  If it ain't Stiff it ain't worth a fuck.  The logo and catch line immediately burned into my brain. It was a long time before I even knew what it was or what it meant.

I have always loved music.  As a kid, I listened to the radio, listened to albums my parents owned, even started working just to make money to buy my own records.

My brother and older friends influenced me on new stuff, from Bob Marley to Devo to The Ramones. This journey with music,  just as a fan at first,  started before MTV and music videos.  Back when radio influenced an artist’s success, the playlist dictating what we listened to - and it wasn't all bad. Freeform DJ’s played what they wanted in between the songs on the weekly playlists, Carol Miller or Meg Griffin popping in a random new artist that wasn't a label priority. 

Back when magazines were out weekly, and you could go and read everything from Village Voice to Melody Maker or NME.  If you went to a good record store, you could find the DIY fanzines. 

When part of the beauty of music was the discovery.  The articles, the photos, the descriptions. Music was coming out that was so original, there was nothing to compare it to.  Dancehall, ska, punk, rap, new wave...it was all new.  

Record stores became the place to spend weekend days. Venus Records, Bleeker Bob's, Barry's Stereo and Sound, and my personal favorite, Sounds. (St. Marks was the Mecca of cool: record stores, clothing shops, pizza places, St. Marks Theatre, and the stoops where you could just sit with your friends and hang out and talk).  These spots were how I discovered new music:  hours spent flipping through the vinyl bins, listening to the carefully curated music played in the store by the record store clerks.  You would be browsing, hear something and ask what it was. And then right there, you would buy that record, having discovered it just because they played it.

Through these selected purchases, patterns emerged.  What is this label?  Who is this producer?  What is this scene? 

I got into The Specials and Two Tone. My brother and I were gifted it by my dad's associate, Faith, who was British.  In this pre-MTV world, we would sit and pore through the photos, read the credits, learn the lyrics.  Know each record and song from the beginning of side A to the end of side B.  Playing those records repeatedly, playing them for friends, playing them before and after school, during dinner and before going to bed.  Buying an album was an investment, so if you bought it, you were committed.  Hard earned cash needed to be spent wisely. Through the need to be economic with my purchases I began to build trust with specific labels, people, writers, and DJ's.  

I started listening to a station on Long Island called WLIR, whose slogan was "Dare to be different". They had great DJ's, no rules, specialty shows like Across the Pond or Punky Reggae Party and Screamers of the Week showcasing hand picks songs that I would listen to and then make my Saturday and Sunday trek to St. Marks to search the bins for the songs I’d recently heard.  Paying extra for the imports that didn't have domestic distribution yet, buying 12' remix extended singles just to get that B Side that wasn't available anywhere else.  It was a true treasure hunt and if something was on a particular label I liked, I bought it.  

Def Jam.  The beginning of hip hop for me.  The 12" releases of the singles by their artists didn't even usually have art.  It was black or maroon-ish with “Def Jam Recordings“ on the back in their iconic logo,  and the front was blank with the label displayed only with the name of the artist and the name of the song. I’d have no idea what it sounded like, but would always snatch it up without question.  

Same went for 2 Tone, Go Feet (the English Beat's label), Moon Records, Sire, IRS, Twin Tone, Island, Trojan and of course Stiff.

I finally understood why If it ain't Stiff, It ain't worth a fuck. Why people wore shirts with the label art as much as they wore the shirts of the bands on those labels.  It was a silent wink from one fan to the other.  It was this club that anyone could join just based on your openness to discovery.  It was a trust made between the label, their bands, and the fans.  In a world where I could probably afford 2-3 albums a week from the money made by delivering newspapers, I learned to trust certain labels enough that if an artist was on one of them, I was pretty sure I would love it. Even in the old days of retail, there was an overwhelming number of music to choose from. So having this narrowed-down process of where to put your hard-earned money made decisions easier to make. 

Fan devotion to the labels and the artists meant artists had several albums, singles, and time to build their audience.  By signing to a particular label, working with specific producers and being cosigned by other artists gave one an edge, an audience to work from when starting. When I started going to shows regularly I saw that these artists could play CBGB's on their first tour, support a headliner on the next at The Ritz, and then headline the Ritz - all on one album cycle; only to return on their next tour to do multiple nights at The Ritz and eventually move around the corner on to The Palladium.  These were all career setting achievements.  Three to four albums in they were creating great music without the need to sell millions, having dedicated fans, selling merch. While would break through to the next level (most with the help of MTV), but it wasn't a necessity.  Artists were able to tour worldwide, building careers.  I remember in the 80's, promoters and artists realized that because of the over 21 clubs (like the Ritz), there was a huge number of fans not seeing them.  Thus began “all ages“ and matinee shows.  

 

I worked as an.A&R person from the 1990's to the 2000s.  Even in the 90's Columbia Records, we had the ability and the talent at the labels to develop acts.  The motto at the time was “As Long as It Takes”, and for a lot of acts, this was true.  For others, not so much.  No fault of the label and people there, it is the music business.  (A sad truth in business: there are winners and losers.)

But in the early/mid 90's, independent labels were emerging.  Not like the 80's where indies were owned by majors (like Sire or IRS), but actual stand-alone indie labels signing and releasing artists and breaking into the mainstream.  Of course, this only would attract majors to go and make offers to take those artists from their labels.

I learned about this firsthand when I heard an album called Let’s Go by Rancid and then saw them perform at the Epitaph Summer Nationals. The thing was, I understood what the situation was.  They were a punk band on my favorite punk label.  They made their second release for $5,000 with the owner of the label.  While they blew my socks off, I knew this band was a band I wanted to work with - but someday and not yet.  They were growing at the perfect pace where they were.  I really wanted to meet them though, to let them know I was a huge fan and if/when they ever were interested in talking to a major, I was their guy.  But there was nobody better to do what Epitaph did and what they were going to do here to develop this band. Rancid was under the radar that the time,  but Green Day had just released Dookie, and everyone was all about "find me one of those".  In an A&R meeting I played Rancid and received the "Get that" marching order.  So, while I knew this was not the time, I understood my orders and if there was anyone I needed to "chase" I couldn't think of a band more worthy of chasing.  I told many people about them, who told other people, who then also began to pursue.  The band went to the 11th hour of signing with a major before changing their minds to remain where they should have always been.  They became legendary and continue to be successful with Epitaph. Staying with Epitaph is what felt right to the band both business-wise and ethically. 

Many of my colleagues at Columbia and I would discuss how bands were getting picked up too fast or before they were ready and coming to a label that didn’t have the patience to develop these artists.  We discussed creating a label like a AAA baseball team;  where if we saw/found someone we thought had potential, we could sign them and would through the RED distribution system building these artists to give them the time and resources to get to a place where we had something to work with and upstream to Columbia.  The old 80's model of an indie idea in a major system.  If they weren’t commercial, they could keep making records until and if they got there.  Smaller budgets, more focus on development ideas.  A way we could be an indie and not have to poach artists or buy an existing label to get their acts.  We even went as far as meeting with Sal Licata - the head of RED at the time - who was all in.  Sadly, that was cut short by my dismissal from Columbia.

The major label upstream from indie labels became the norm from the mid 90's.  It became more prevalent in the 2000s and on, because the previous slow-cooker artist development was less and less frequent among the major labels.  Not because they weren’t interested, but because it took too long, and we sadly live in a world now where time waits for no one.

I was recently hired to head a label called Motherwolf. I was fortunate to be introduced by a friend to a great guy who was actively looking for someone to run an indie label.  The label’s vision is based on quality of artists, fairness, shared artistic vision, artist development,  and being artist- friendly.  

The idea is to be called a "singles" label.  But I know you can't develop on a single.  If I believe in an artist, the idea of single is great.  Even though I may believe in them, working together is a commitment and a chemistry.  So, starting off with a single is like a good first date.  See how the chemistry works.  How you fit together in the process.  Does the artist show dedication and are they hungry?  Do I want this more than they do?  If I do, the chemistry is not right.  For the artist: do they feel know what I’m doing? Do I have the right vision and resources to move them into the right direction?  If not, then each of us have the option of moving forward on different paths, no extended contract disabling them to move on.  Of course, when I decide to work with the artist, I want the relationship to continue and move forward together.

The development idea with artist-friendly deals is to help build these artists so that they find an audience, take small steps in the process to really lock in and build. 

Whether I sign an artist is not dependent on data or algorithms.  It's about talent.  It's about hearing something/someone and seeing the audience.  If we can build trust and elevate that artist, the hopes are to keep going and building more.  If a major label or a major indie discovers them and wants to take them somewhere I can't, then Carpe Diem.  If the band or artist build where they want to just take it solo, same.  

As mentioned earlier,  artist development is difficult to achieve at a major label.  Again, not because they don't want to do it, but because there isn't enough time.  I have spoken to artists courted by majors who admitted that they are scared to make the jump out of fear that they aren't ready to perform to the expected levels of a major label yet.  They know they will when the time is right, but feel they still need a little more time prior to going under that microscope.  So, the dilemma they encounter is, if they don't take the offer, they’ll miss the opportunity; but if they do sign to a major, they risk losing everything that got them here if it their release underperforms.  Remember, 4 million streams by a DIY/Indie artist are huge.  4 million streams on a major are an underperformance.   A DIY/Indie artist works at their own schedule, a major label artist (sadly many times, not all) works in an hourglass.  I’m looking to work with an artist or a major label who want that time and efforts to not rush into a situation too soon in this potentially critical time.

2022 has started off well.  With more releases out there, we are pushing the boulder up the hill; me, my trusted and awesome coworkers, and the artists.  We are all in it together, and want to “win” one step at a time.

My goal is to make Motherwolf like the best of the labels that “raised“ me.  A place where when we put out a release, someone will give it a shot, because it's on Motherwolf.  Maybe they'll discover a new genre, maybe they'll want to be part of it, maybe I’ll see someone walk down the street in a shirt with the label’s logo.  

Old man look at my life, I'm nothing like you were

I made a post today on social media regarding Neil Young pulling his music from Spotify based on Joe Rogan’s “misinformation” spreading.  My post was pivoting from Young/Rogan beef to the reality and the elephant in the room of artist/earning reality that exists based on this new and dominant form of music distribution that has become the new normal.  

After I hit Post, more thoughts and discussion started to swarm in my head, so figured now was the time to release it here.

I don’t think Spotify and other DSPs are evil.  They are 2022.  I don’t think DSP's are music haters or intentionally pay poorly to content providers (using the word “content” to describe music is so cringy), they just can.  They are the new model.  The old model died a very public death, ironically due to the greed and the power struggle of the former monopoly holders.  This time around those who suffered from the technology shift, thought wisely, and embraced it vs fighting it.  The victim in both technology advancements (file sharing and streaming)?  Artists.

In Art, music specifically has always been the bastard child of entertainment.  Music is the most consumable, the most emotional, personal, universal, achievable, discoverable, and eternal form of entertainment.  But it’s also the most abused.  It’s easy to point the finger at a record company and the deals they make with artists, publishers, managers, the list can go on.  But in a more modern account, music is the canary in the coal mine for technology.  

When Apple first introduced the iPod, the guinea pig was music.  Was it a music device?  No, it was a hardware device.  The success of music was an experiment to move onto visual media, then to a phone.  When iTunes tried to create a digital form of music delivery and set the price at .99 cents per download, the labels said nobody would pay for music they couldn’t hold.  The digital distributors, tried to create a DRM (digital rights management) protocol to keep downloads from being shared.  One proved to be true (people would pay for digital music), and one was abandoned (DRM was eliminated when it proved to be too difficult to impose on consumers.   Who are the losers in this one?  Artists.

When Films, Documentaries and TV shows are made, budgets are allocated for every single cost to make the film.  Costs for cameras, crew, editing, travel, catering, per diems, you name it.  When it comes to the end of the film, the soundtrack is needed to add ambiance and audio accompaniment to it to help create the mood.  Many times (not all) the budget is spent, and music is hunted for use at a low fee or even gratis use under the pitch that it’s “good for exposure”.  The cost of airline flights cost more than the entire music budget, so once again, the artist is victim to a low fee for the use of their music in a film.  Here’s the sad part.  Many times, these low fees are more money than the artist has made from a full year of streaming.  Also, if the license comes from an artist that is signed to a label, the money earned just goes toward the unrecouped balance of the money spent being signed to the label.  This is not a knock-on film/TV use.  This is just to point out how it seems to work for better or for worse.

MTV has always been notorious with the “exposure” line.  Worldwide rights, in perpetuity for “exposure”.  Again, for an unknown artist, this is a good deal, because if their song is used in a reality show and shown in every country, that means they have a shot at being heard.  I’m very pro film/tv placement, especially in 2022 where those forms of exposure are the most likely to get noticed because you can’t fast-forward or skip a song if it’s in a show or film you are watching.   I personally think editors are the best music discovery sources and most helpful to up-and-coming artists than any other individual person.  They cut a scene to a song to create a feeling, an emotion and if they get it right, that moment can change an artist’s life.  I always think of the use of “Breathe Me” by Sia in the finale of Six Feet Under.  I personally believe that placement changed her career forever.  

So back to streaming.  The argument of whether a music fan in 2010 and beyond needed to physically own the music they listened whether it was digital file, or a physical product was a very short one.  No.  Nobody cared.  Spotify and other DSPs were quick to address the issue on ownership.  Quick to realize they needed to strike a deal and work with the majors.  Majors, coming off a horrible past decade because of the refusal to accept and work with technology, came to the table, not as bullies, but as negotiators.  They had something Spotify needed, and Spotify did something they needed.  Deals were struck.  Ownership was granted and here we are.

Now, based on the pay rates per stream, if any businessperson looked at it, there would be no way a major would take this deal.  But, when you look at this deal and are part owner of the company, it’s a lot easier to accept these numbers.  Especially if you get a share of the subscription fees, the advertisement dollars and are still collecting your share of the streams and paying out the artists on the agreed upon percentage they made when signing their contract.

Also, being a partner and having ownership, as a major label, you have advantages built in.  In a distribution system that has 60,000 uploads of new music a day, you still have your influence to take priority to pass go and collect $200.  So, it’s a win, win, win.  If you are on a major label and are a priority, you are elite.   Again.  I can’t hate on any of this.  First you get the power, then you get the money.  

A major label has always been a benefit to any artist.  Being on one is the gold standard.  It’s your shot.  But just like anything, just because you are in the race doesn’t mean you are going to win, place or show.  Sometimes you never even make it out of the stable.  It’s a gamble.  But who would turn that down?  The power, the influence could change your life.  It’s been this way since the beginning of labels.  You are on a label; you had the staff in place with the relationships.  Relationships with radio, video, retail, writers, periodicals, agents, etc.  You had influence.  If you had an A list artist coming out with a new song, you could leverage a new artist to get exposure.  You could put developing acts on headliner packages.  Get an exclusive with an artist if they wrote about someone that needed a review or profile.  Today, being part owners of this new platform, it carries on.  You can’t be mad at them.  Don’t hate the player.  Hate the game.

So, since I have clarified I don’t hate labels for having the power and the influence, I do want to speak on their business itself.  Historically, prior to streaming, labels always put out a lot of money in costs to work with an artist.  There were (and still are) a lot of moving parts.  There were advances, production, art, videos, manufacturing, tour support, distribution, publicity, advertisements, etc.… many of these things still exist.  One missing piece that was very expensive is manufacturing and distribution.  An artist when signing to a label would agree for several releases with options to continue (labels option) if things were going well and would usually negotiate a percentage (points) awarded to them for their music and being part of the label.  This percentage was usually around 12%-16%.  This calculation was based on how much the label was putting into the project from their side and it was a fair (agreed upon) split with the artist for the label doing the heavy lifting and financial investment.  This 85% (Average) would cover the recoupable costs they were putting into the creation, marketing, promotion, manufacturing of the release.  So, for any aspiring and excited artist, this was understandable, and this was their shot.  But, the math wasn’t as clear.  Many artists I know today who have sold 1 million copies of albums are still unrecouped.  How you ask?  Well, when you cut the deal up, you are earning (say) .16 cents per dollar spent.  That is also the number you are recouping on.  So, by that, if $1 is earned and you owe $1, you only paid back .16 cents towards that dollar owed by the dollar earned.  It would take you $6.25 earned to pay back $1 according to your deal.  So, if you earned 1 million dollars, but owed 1 million dollars, only $160,000 was recouped leaving you still $840,000 unrecouped.  There is an upside though.  If you are in this number area, that wood hopefully mean that you are making money another way, like merchandise, touring, as an influencer or branching out into other areas and you got there thanks to the efforts of the work that you and your label did for you to gain this exposure.   But these deals are archaic.  The costs of making, distributing, and promoting a release is nowhere near the numbers it was before streaming.  Majors need to do 50/50 deals.  Give these people a chance to make a living off their music.  

To be fair, Sony has begun trying to work with legacy artists to renegotiate with them for better royalty shares and even wiping clean the accumulated debt that is still unpaid, giving the artists a chance to actually earn a good percentage from their streams moving forward.

I won’t even start on what publishing earns because that alone is its own rant.  Being a partner in the DSPs, earning off each stream (double dipping) and earning off master uses and exploitations, I think you are making enough to give up half of the streaming revenue to these artists.  Making 1 million per hour on streaming.  I think you can share.

That was the old model.  When it cost a lot of money to release and promote a song. When the gates were sealed, and you couldn’t get through unless you had a connection or a way in.  Retail, radio, periodicals.  Very exclusive and impenetrable for the most part.  Manufacturing was expensive and moving units and getting them in stores was hard.  Labels owned end caps and point of positions to highlight their releases and priorities.  You weren’t getting placement on the Tower Records counter as an impulse buy, unless a clerk was a fan and said, “fuck it”, but traditionally those spots were bought and paid for.

Today, with DSP’s being the main distribution model, anyone can get their music on the platforms with independent distributors from TuneCore, Distrokid, CDBaby and more exclusive ones like Fuga, Symphonic, Empire.  Hence, the 60k per day uploads of new songs.  Gone are the record stores, the politics, the golden key to compete against the others.  But now we have a marketplace that is beyond oversaturated and still controlled by the majors because of their ownership.  

Showing the numbers of what an artist earns on each stream is alarming and sad.  But you are now on the field.  I have news for you too.  Regardless of these numbers, if you own your own music, you make all the money.  You can make a living.  I described the deals that artists have with labels, but I also described how much they lose from those situations.  When you own all your stuff, you aren’t receiving .14 of a dollar earned.  You are earning $1 of $1 earned.  It’s not all doom and gloom and fuck the DSP’s for not paying.  It is what it is because that’s what it is, and you can either work with the system or be a tree falling in a forest with nobody there to hear you.  I’m not condoning it, but if you are an artist, there is no other option today.  Try and get more people to convert to the better paying platforms, but at this point it’s like asking someone to change from their iPhone to an Android.  They like what they like.

Spotify, has us all by the balls.  They are the most used platform.  They offer the option to pitch your music to their editorial playlists and if you get on one, life can change.  It sucks.  Whenever I have a release coming out and it’s pitched to Spotify for editorial play listing upon release, I reminds me of buying a lottery scratcher.  You could win or you could lose.  You wait and anticipate every moment waiting for it to win and when you get 2 of 3 numbers, with what you scratched off being generated by a computer with zero explanation as to why you didn’t win.  It’s just the way it goes.  

As an artist or an independent label, we need these platforms.  It the only way to get music to the masses.  They pay for shit, but like I said, if you own your own music, you make all the horrible payouts.  If you are an independent label, make fair deals.  Give the artist 50/50 deals.  Let them want to work with you to succeed.  It’s better to have a partner in life than to do it yourself.  We can’t look at this Neil Young situation and withdraw from the platform due to the inclusion of Joe Rogan being on the same platform.  We can try and get people to support us on better paying platforms but jumping off one (the biggest one) is literally shooting yourself in the foot.  Most people don’t have the catalogue of songs to live off to afford to say “it’s told us or them."

I love Neil Young.  I love Joni Mitchell.  I have their albums on vinyl and CD and listen on AppleMusic, but they are legends.  They have catalog and they were around and coming up when there was a way to become an artist by working with labels and artist and career development.  We live in a very different time, where many of those options no longer exist.  Time waits for no one and over-saturation cancels out time.  When they released albums and music, distractions were lesser.  People read more, writers wrote more, radio played music more and we had time to digest what we heard.  Gone are the days of doing a paper route to earn money to buy one or two albums to listen to for hours, staring at the art and reading the liner notes and committing because every dollar earned was thought out to spend on something.  We owned music, we didn't rent it.  

I look forward to the day when everyone can take a stand against moral issues, but as struggling artists and small labels, we actually can't.  In 2022, Spotify has 365 Million monthly listeners.  For an up and coming or developing artist or an indie label  removes their music, then they won't even get a mention in a blog and would eliminate the opportunity of being discovered by any potential new fan.  Stakes for creatives are too high.

Do you want to support artists and continue to consume your music via streaming?  Look at the chart who pays better and stream there.  Buy merchandise from artists, go to their shows (when they are in town), follow their social media pages and comment and like posts.  Increase engagement.  Those little gestures help in the way data and algorithms (another word I never thought I would use in my life with regard to music) help these artists move forward and gain more attention.  

You can do so much for so many at the tips of your fingers.