Tuesday, November 27, 2007

By the way...


I don't want to give the impression that I wholeheartedly support the music industry just because I don't like the idea that recorded music should be free. Having worked in the industry I can appreciate what they do, but I also see just how badly they have fucked this whole thing up. They share a lot of blame for creating the current fiasco.

1. Prices got out of hand. I remember when CDs first came out, and the industry blamed the high price on lack of manufacturing facilities and high reject rates. This would cease to be a problem in a few years, and then we could expect CDs to gain a price parity with LPs and cassettes. It never happened. They phased out the LP, and jacked up the price of cassettes, and the CD never came down, it just went up.

2. They changed the way they had been doing business. In the glory days, artists were signed thinking long term for a long career. They were nurtured along even if their first few albums didn't sell as hoped. Eventually, this shifted to a "gimme a hit now" mentality, and hits were more important than developing an artist's career. I imagine they made more money this way, but what happened is that marketing became more important than the music, and artists became disposable. The quality of pop music started going downhill.

3. They got too big. When giant corporations bought up the record companies, everything changed. Gone were the days when one person with ears could commit hundreds of thousands of dollars to take a chance on an artist. People who had no experience with records were in charge, and calling the shots. What did Sony know about making music when they bought Columbia Records? Universal made movies and TV, OK, at least that's entertainment, but Motown sure ain't what it used to be.

4. They seriously failed at the internet. If they were going to resort to suing individual downloaders, they should have done it sooner, and made it an all out war. It was too little, and too late, and now everyone refers to it as "suing their own customers." That's absurd in itself, someone caught stealing a physical object in a store is not a customer, he is a thief. They took down napster, but didn't come up with an option for consumers to easily and legally buy music online. It took Apple to come up with that with iTunes, and now the labels are bitching that they don't get to set their own prices anymore. Still, here we are in late 2007, and the majors have come up with bupkis to compete, and it's too late anyway, because no one even wants to pay .99 for a tune anymore when it can be had easily for free.

5. DRM is and was a total failure, a waste of everyone's time, and garnered even more resentment towards the labels. I don't believe in crippling the product, and I don't want some DRM scheme to keep me from moving legitimately bought music from one device to another. Dumb.

OK, they fucked up. Does that still mean that no one should have to pay for music? I've read a million posts where people say they will never buy another thing from the RIAA, but indie labels are getting screwed too. And the artists. Over half of the people who downloaded Radiohead's album didn't pay shit.

So, even though the record industry helped create this situation, downloaders use their "outrage" as a weak justification to continue to help themselves to someone else's hard work without paying a dime for it.

We have met the enemy, and he is us


The first time I remember hearing about the concept of "intellectual property" was in the early eighties. The Chinese, rushing towards capitalism, were cranking out bogus pirated knockoffs of everything from Gucci bags, to Ray-Bans, to fake Rolex watches, etc. Intellectual property and copyright don't seem to be a part of the Asian culture, and I often thought that it would be next to impossible to get them to realize that they were stealing by reproducing goods and software without licenses.

But now, the very concept of intellectual property and copyright are under assault here in the first world by the free culture and copyleft movement. And we are all going to lose, because if they win, there are not going to be any motives to create something worthwhile, other than the kicks of putting your home video on youtube, and being a star for fifteen seconds.

People are lobbying to change copyright laws. Some say that one year is long enough for a copyright. Some advocate that a copyright should expire when the author dies. This is absurd. My daughter will inherit whatever royalty money I have in the bank when I die, but why shouldn't she be entitled to future income?. If I had created a successful factory, for example, wouldn't she be entitled to enjoy the profits from that after I'm gone? If copyrights expire when a person dies, then why should anyone ever inherit anything? You could make the same lame argument: the inheritors did nothing to create the income, therefore it should be made public. It's bad craziness.

And it's all a rationalization to get things for free. I like free stuff too, but I don't live in a utopia. I don't get free gas, and the groceries aren't free. I've never gotten a free lunch in a Chinese restaurant. I don't expect to.

But getting back to my point in this post, I find it ironic that the problem of getting people to understand the concept of intellectual property has shifted back to the part of the world that invented it.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Take Me To The Bridge


We've lost a lot of the art and craft of the pop song these days. Listening to some old shit tonight, I have been thinking about the form of the song, and what we don't often hear now.

A typical tin pan alley song can usually be analyzed as AABA, where A is the verse, and B is the bridge. More current pop songs have a verse and a chorus that repeat, and occasionally, if the songwriter is a little ambitious, he/she might throw in an extra part, let's call it an interlude, to break up the monotomy. Stevie Wonder is a genius at this, and he was always my inspiration to go the extra mile and write one little extra eight bar part that only happens once in the song. Lennon and McCartney were using this too. It has nothing to do with the AABA form. It comes in after the verse and chorus/hook have been stated at least twice. But it's so effective! Because usually, this interlude comes out of the blue, and is a complete harmonic change from the rest of the song. Then you go back straight to the hook, the chorus, and after this interlude, the hook is strengthened further from having this brief respite from the form you have previously already repeated twice. But I don't hear this much anymore. Granted, I don't hear many tunes these days where the harmony in the chorus is different from the verse, but the interlude is long gone.

And in a more basic sense, think about one of James Brown's tunes, where he hollers to the band to take him to the bridge. Almost always, they just go up a fourth to the sub-dominant, and play a variation of the basic groove of the tune, maybe with a different horn line. And it always adds excitement to the tune, not only for the change, but when they return to the basic grove of the song, it's that much fresher for having gone somewhere else for a bit.

It's a great way to beef up a song, try it.

I Get Emails...


Occasionally I get emails from people asking me about working with Michael Jackson. Of course, people are curious about him, and sometimes I think that they are hoping that I have some dirt I can dish about Michael. I don't have any. Michael always treated me with respect and the utmost professionalism. And I treated him the same. I enjoyed working with him every time. It was fun, it wasn't just work.

And I feel a little chagrin that my claim to fame after all of these years, is that I'm the guy playing those three chords on Billie Jean. That was about an hour of my life. Mind you, I'm not in any way ashamed of it, but I also know that anyone of a million keyboardists could have played the part. I did it, because during the 1981 tour when I played keyboards for Michael and his brothers, he heard me fooling around with a sound on the Yamaha CS80 synthesizer that I was using on the tour. Afterwards, he called me to help him with the demo for Bille Jean, which involved deciphering those three chords from him singing the top notes to me, and re-creating that sound that I had long since forgotten.

Months passed, and Michael called me to play the part on the tune when he and Quincy Jones were making the Thriller album at Westlake Studios in LA. When I arrived for the session, Michael led me into Studio B to record the part, because he and Quincy were busy recording a children's album based on the hit movie E.T. in the main studio.

So I sat in Studio B, alone with the second engineer, and I played the part, because I remembered it from the demo (apparently, this demo is on the special edition of Thriller; I've never heard it.) So it was just work. Michael came in to listen to it, approved it, and that was that. After all of this time, and after all of the other things I've done, this is my claim to fame.

I'm not complaining, at all, I'm just saying that anyone could have played it, and maybe I wish that some of my own work was what I was known for, but hey--who am I to compete with Michael Jackson?

So, I'll save you the trouble of writing me an email asking about Michael; this is what I'll have to say: Michael was always professional with me, and me with him. I felt privileged to work with him and Quincy. This was the pinnacle, the top of the heap in those years, there were no better gigs. I was alongside studio musicians that were my idols, and I felt as though there had been a tremendous mistake; what was I doing on the 'A' list?

And although he came to my house a couple of times to work on music, and I went to his house three or four times, I don't know anymore about his personal life than he does about mine. It was just about the music, and I'm proud to have been a small part of it. I feel bad about what has happened to him in the last few years, but I don't know any more about it than you do. I hope he can overcome his problems, and come back, because he was a superstar for a reason; he had it. Big time.

And I'll never complain about being the guy that plays those three chords on Billie Jean, because I know that nearly everyone on the PLANET has heard me play. Thank you, Michael, for that. I like it.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Gene Simmons 1, Internet Downloaders 800


Gene Simmons of Kiss had some great points in a recent interview in Billboard. Here's a couple of choice quotes:

"The record industry doesn't have a f*cking clue how to make money. It's only their fault for letting foxes get into the henhouse and then wondering why there's no eggs or chickens. Every little college kid, every freshly-scrubbed little kid's face should have been sued off the face of the earth. They should have taken their houses and cars and nipped it right there in the beginning. Those kids are putting 100,000 to a million people out of work."

"Doesn't affect me. But imagine being a new band with dreams of getting on stage and putting out your own record. Forget it."

On Radiohead's "pay what you want" approach:

"...that's not a business model that works. I open a store and say "Come on in and pay whatever you want." Are you on f*cking crack? Do you really believe that's a business model that works?"

And this sums up pretty much how I feel:

"There is nothing in me that wants to go in there and do new music. How are you going to deliver it? How are you going to get paid for it if people can just get it for free?"

I agree with him on all points, yet reading the responses at digg.com you would think that he was advocating eating babies and raping grandmothers. The responses start with "Fuck KISS," and do downhill from there. People vow to download the entire Kiss discography, or they vow to never download anything by Kiss. It's hilarious, except when it gets anti-semetic. These creepy parasites feel so entitled to free music that they get their panties in a bunch when anyone suggests that maybe they shouldn't do that, to the point that it generated over 800 responses.

And amazingly, no one gets what he's saying. He says that the industry should have reacted immediately to sue everyone involved, he doesn't advocate doing that now. He says it doesn't affect him, but he worries about the future for new acts. They just don't get it, and never will. The war is over, it's lost, and I don't feel like making new music anymore. It's depressing.

Friday, November 9, 2007

Set The Wayback Machine To 1979


I was going through some old cassettes when I ran across this: it's a demo I made while I was working at Guitar Center in LA in 1979. My co-worker Jackson Howe and I hooked together every piece of gear we had in stock that could be interfaced. Mind you, this was way before MIDI, we're talking control voltage and gates, all analog.

We hooked together four Arp sequencers to drive approximately 14 or 15 synths. There is no drum machine; one synth would be used for a kick drum, one for a tom, etc. We had two or three Arp 2600s, an Odyssey, lots of other Arp and Roland synths, and I think a Mini-moog was involved, because I had an S-Trig converter cable. The lead was performed live on an Oberheim OB-1. The whole mess went through a mixer, and was captured live on a cassette, hence the lo-fi sound. There are no overdubs.

I drove the whole store nuts with this for weeks, and the manager was pissed at me because I was being a mad scientist and not selling. I hated it when one of the synths I was using got sold, because it messed everything up.

I gave a copy of the tape to my friend Ronnie Foster, who played it for Stevie Wonder. A week or so later, Stevie called me at work to get me to do the same electronic percussion thing in the studio, with a mess of his 2600s. The song was "Race Babbling" from his "Secret Life Of Plants" record, and that's how I got started doing recording sessions. Fun times.

The synths are a bit out of tune at times, the playing is sloppy, but it's fun to listen to after all of this time. Hit the green play button below to hear it.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

The Internet Market Has Set The Value Of Music


And it's $0.00. UK band Radiohead's move to allows fans to pay what they like for their new album In Rainbows was widely hailed by the anti-RIAA, music-should-be-free crowd as a means to eliminate the middle man, and allow the artist to be paid directly from the fans. Yet, according to this study, the majority paid zero. Zip. Bupkis. Nada.

And the rationalizations are hilarious, sad and ignorant from the internet warriors at Digg.com. Here's a few examples:

So? They still made an unbelievable amount of money from this idea.

I am sure that the RIAA had it's "team" download thousands of copies to try to show that "see this won't work, you need us. People will steal from you".

The real news is that a lot of people paid for it and the band made a lot of money. They could have made $0.00.

Whoever expected most people to pay money for this album don't know the internet at all.

It is just much easier to download it; all I have to do is press 1 button on my tool bar the rest is automated. If I buy it from their website or itunes I have to register, take out my wallet etc.. it is more hassle then it is worth.

You would be an idiot to assume everyone will pay money for it.

Its Radiohead. Why would you pay to listen to it? Seriously.

Hey thanks for letting me know about a free CD (that I would have never paid for anyways)

Yeah, well they still made record amounts of dough.

I pay 0.00 for most of my albums..
but I've also told people about In Rainbows.

yeah I payed 0 for it, but [no offense at all] I would have never payed anything in the first place, so as far as I'm concerned, that was a great deal.

Wow, people taking free music from the internet? Stop the presses!

not surprised at all. who the hell likes to pay?!?!? people will take anything for free. no one should be surprised here. pretty sad but even if it was elvis coming back from the dead and releasing new mp3s... people won't pay a penny.. hahah

Free or not I'm still going to pirate it from a torrent.

Great album. Didn't pay. I'm broke and Thom Yorke's not.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

This Whole "Music Should Be Free" Thing


We've been having an interesting discussion about the above topic here at Craig Anderton's forum at Harmony Central. I was interested in putting the question to fellow musicians how they feel about the brave new world of music in the intertube life, and the results have been surprising. I thought I would be mostly preaching to the choir, because Harmony Central is a musician's web site, but the responses have been all over the map.

Somehow, I cant help feeling that everything is fucked. The future is youtube, myspace, and all the mediocrity therein. It's depressing to me, but to others, it's the democratization of music. I weep for our culture. Devo was right.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

If Music Is Going To Be Free, Why Does It Still Cost Money To Make It?


People argue that music should be available to download for free, because there is no marginal cost in making a digital copy of a file. That's all well and good, but does absolutely nothing to help the artist recoup what he/she spent making the damn thing. Notice I said recoup, God forbid anyone filthy their hands by actually making money on recorded music, that would taint the art, wouldn't it?

Here's the thing: I've been making recordings for the last ten years or so on the cheap, at a fraction of what we used to spend when I was producing records for the majors back in the eighties. Back then, a budget of $85,000 was considered small.

Now, thanks to the revolution of affordable recording equipment, I can make records relatively cheaply, but certainly not for free. To record in my undisclosed tropical location, I spent about six grand on portable recording equipment. High quality, professional digital stuff. Now, I've been able to use that equipment on several projects, so let's not even consider that expense. Let's look at what it costs to make a Mamborama CD.

I won't add in the time that I work on writing the songs, but on the last record I spent a year just writing and arranging. Before recording a note, that little plastic CD represents a year of my life just composing. But that's my problem, so let's look at actually recording the material.

Mamborama depends on recording with real musicians, and I always seek out the best hired guns I can find. Guess what? These guys are professional musicians. They expect to be paid, and deserve to be paid for their time and creativity. Having said that, I still have to negotiate with them, because these are completely independent records I'm making. I put up the money for them, I'm not playing with someone else's money like I was making records in LA. Generally, I'll pay between $50 to $100 to each musician for each song. So if you want three guys singing background vocals, that's $150 each song. I write for four horns. That's $200 each song. The lead singer gets $100. Each song. The percussionists cost about $150 each song. The bass player gets between 50 and 75, depending on who it is.

I'm fortunate in that I don't need to pay for an engineer, because I do that myself, I enjoy it. I always picked the brains of every engineer when I was doing studio work in LA, and I learned from some of the best. Sometimes, I have to pay for transportation to get drums and whatnot to the studio, but that's minimal.

Basic tracks are always recorded in a studio, because I need an environment that's isolated from street noise, and I like to track the drummer and conga player at the same time, to get some interplay between them, so I need a studio with two rooms, so the tracks don't bleed into each other. But since I have my own equipment, it's easy, and there are plenty of small private studios that I can rent for this for around ten bucks an hour. But it adds to the budget. Overdubs can be done at my apartment. We recorded most of the last record in a spare room in my apartment. We called it Estudio Fula (bad studio in Cuban slang). But it worked, and was certainly cheap.

OK, now it's got to be mixed. As I said, I do my own engineering, and although I would love to hire someone with ears and expertise beyond my own, it's just not in the budget. I do a fair job, could be better, but I have to work with what I have. Mixing takes several hours, sometimes a couple of days, for each song. Sometimes I come back to a tune and redo the mix after living with it for awhile. Hundreds of hours go into the mixing, and planning the sequencing of the songs. But it's just my labor, that should be free, right?

Next step is mastering. Mastering is the process of settings the levels of each song, and the last chance to beef it up with some EQ or compression. A little more bass here, a little cut in the midrange there. It's essential, and can make or break the CD. I always depend on a good experienced mastering engineer to do this, because at this point, I've heard the record so many times that I don't even know what I'm listening to anymore. I want some good, objective, outside ears to fine tune my baby. This adds around 700 bucks. I can get it done cheaper, or spend much more, but I've relied on this particular engineer for years, so I have no problem paying what to me, is a very reasonable fee. It's a lot of work for him, and a luxury for me to sit back and wait to check out his work. It's usually spot on.

Now, you need graphics. To hire a good graphic designer, be prepared to pay at the very minimum 500 bucks, and that's cheap. It's a lot of work. Fortunately, I like working with graphics, have some experience in it, so again, it's just my labor. Cheap. It takes about a week to do all of the parts and get it right.

Now, manufacturing. For 1,000 finished, shrink wrapped CDs, it's going to run about $1500 bucks, plus shipping.

So, do the math. It wasn't free for me to make these records. I did it extremely cheap, but it adds up. More labor than anything else, but clearly a labor of love and obsession. In the end, the finished physical product represents about three years of my life.

Of course, the problem is that CDs are going the way of eight-tracks and cassettes, digital files and iPods are much easier to manage. I prefer them too. But does the lack of a touchy-feely physical product devalue the content? With every thing I did to make the music, only the final manufacturing costs of CDs is optional if you're talking about solely digital files. The digital files don't invent themselves, the musicians will always want to be paid, and hours upon hours still have to be spent to realize the final recording, regardless of whether or not it winds up on a CD, an mp3 or whatever.

But, who doesn't like to get something for nothing? And, I feel that all of the rationalizations that I read on the internet about downloading music just amount to exactly that; rationalizations for getting something for free. It's a strange time to be a musician.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

And a recipe...


OK, I promised the occasional recipe. Here’s one that Rachel Ray would approve of, because you can make it in thirty minutes or less. Yum-o! I got the idea of posting recipes from Francis Coppola’s commentary on the Godfather DVD. He decided that just in case the movie wasn’t any good, at least it should have a recipe in it, and then people wouldn’t completely waste their time. Remember the scene?

CLEMENZA: Hey Mikey, come here, you might learn sumptin. You never know when you’re gonna have to cook for twenty guys. You see, you start out with a little bit of oil. Then you fry some garlic. Then you throw in some tomatoes, tomato paste, you fry it; you make sure it doesn’t stick. You shove in your sausages and your meatballs, add a little bit of wine. And a little bit of sugar, and that’s my trick.

Ravioli en brodo

Store-bought fresh ravioli
(whatever kind, I like Trader Joe’s chicken sausage/pesto)
3 slices bacon
2 14 oz cans Chicken broth or stock
1 onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
4-5 oz Crimini mushrooms, sliced
1 14 oz can diced tomatoes
2 tbs unsalted butter
2 tbs cream
Pecorino romano cheese to garnish

Start the bacon going in a skillet while you bring the stock or broth to a boil in a saucepan. Once the bacon is crispy, take it out to drain on paper towels, and discard about half of the rendered bacon fat. Sauté the onions in the remaining bacon fat, and once they start to turn translucent, add the mushrooms. At this point, you may need to throw in some olive oil, because those mushrooms are thirsty. Season everything with a little salt and pepper, but go easy, because that canned chicken broth, the bacon and the pecorino are all salty. When the mushrooms look cooked, throw in the garlic, and sauté for just thirty seconds. Don’t be burning the garlic! Toss in the canned tomatoes, crumble up the bacon and add it, and reduce the heat a little.

Meantime, the stock/broth is boiling, so toss the ravioli in it, and cook them according to the package directions. It should be about three to four minutes. While they cook, your sauce reduces and the ingredients get to know each other better. When the ravioli are cooked, throw the entire contents of the saucepan, broth, ravioli and all into your skillet and stir. Taste for seasoning, let it simmer for awhile if you want it to reduce, but this wants to be soupy, that's the "en brodo" part. Shove in the butter and cream to finish the sauce, stir until melted, and serve. Pass around the pecorino at the table. Oh yeah, babe…

Sunday, October 28, 2007

No love for the RIAA, or the majors


I think a little more background information might be in order here, so that I don't get accused of being a shill for the suits. I have no love for the majors, but I can appreciate what they do. I worked for several major labels all through the eighties, and I had my share of trouble with them, but I can see both sides of the issue because of this.

I spent most of the nineties wandering around looking for something to do, and when I discovered (personal discovery, I'm not Christopher Columbus or Ry Cooder) Cuban music, I went nuts for it, and I got lost in a grand obsession that has lasted for almost nine years now. When I decided to start recording my Cuban music experiments, I didn't for a minute think about approaching a label. I learned my lesson, and at the end of the day, I want my recordings to belong to me, not someone who fronted some money to record them.

So, I did just that. I recorded and manufactured the CDs, even did all of the graphics myself, totally independent. After some of the tunes became hits in the European Salsa discos, I was able to sell licenses to companies to distribute the recordings, and still maintain control over the product.

It went well for several years, but after the last CD came out, it was obvious that things had changed. I think sometimes that we who work in the niche markets are the canaries in the coal mine. When there's a problem in the marketplace, we get hit first.

And while I have never made a lot of money on sales of the CDs (let's face it, if you want to get rich, don't bother with Cuban music), I resented the fact that possibly 90% of the people who had my music on their iPods hadn't paid anything for it. I sure as hell paid to make the recordings. I bought equipment, I paid musicians, I traveled to undisclosed tropical locations to work with the best musicians from the very source of the music itself.

And if there was no such thing as songwriter's royalties, and if I didn't write the music myself, I would have gone bankrupt a long time ago. In Europe, the DJ in a disco has to turn in a list of the songs he played during the night, and a portion of the proceeds for the evening are turned over to the royalty collection society for distribution to the authors of the music. Therefore, I make enough money on my work to justify carrying on.

But the thing that kills me, and kills the desire to create new music is the attitude that all of my efforts should be available for free. You, reading this, are you willing to do whatever you are currently doing to pay the rent for free? Are we trying to build some sort of communist utopia where money is unnecessary? Hey, I've spent some time in a place where that was the idea, and let me tell you, it just doesn't work. For me, it's the principle of the whole thing that galls me. I know that this is a very unpopular idea right now, and most artists are afraid to say it publicly for fear of a Metallica style backlash. Personally, I don't give a fuck. Until you, personally, are willing to labor without monetary gain, don't ask me to do so, just so you can fill up your fucking iPod with music you didn't pay for.

It's deeply ironic in a time when music seems to be more popular than ever, that no one wants to pay for it. No one has a problem buying a shiny new iPod (I have one, and love it), Apple has sold over a hundred million of them. And the irony is that at the same time, most internet users have convinced themselves that they have the absolute right to download music for free, or at the very least, to treat the artist as a busker in the subway station, throwing them a few coins if they deem their music worthwhile. Jesus...

So I bought an accordion...


Yeah, I know. You've heard the joke about what is perfect pitch? It's when you throw an accordion in the trash can and hit a banjo. (drum hit: bada-boom!)

I don't know why, but I've had the idea to have an accordion for a long time now. I love Zydeco music, I love the soundtrack to Amelie, and anything with that French/Gypsy vibe, and I do happen to have some recordings by Art Van Damme, legendary jazz accordionist. I had a rare Leon Sash CD, but I can't find it now.

So, I happened across a listing on craigslist, and I got that wild hair. I called the woman that was selling it to ask a few questions. She told me that she didn't know anything about it aside that it was made in Italy in the fifties, and belonged to her stepfather who abandoned it when he ran off to Panama to be with another woman. That was all I needed to hear, and I bought it for the princely sum of $160. I asked her if she thought that her stepfather bought another accordion after he settled down in Panama, but she didn't know, and didn't seem to like the question.

Here's the deal: these things are hard to play! Woof, I thought that since it had a keyboard, it wouldn't be that difficult. First of all, the keys are tiny, and my big sausage fingers can hardly keep from hitting two notes at a time when all I want to do is play one. Second, when you're playing the thing, you can't see anything! It's all on the sides, and at an angle that makes it hard just to see where a C note is.

And that's just the right hand side. Forget about the left side. There are 120 buttons! They produce bass notes, and major, minor, 7th and diminished chords, and some other things I haven't figured out yet.

Add to that the fact that you have to keep the bellows moving, or the poor thing sounds like it's suffering from emphysema.

After a few weeks of fooling around with it, I can almost play the theme from Amelie, but I am a long way from getting the coordination needed to play the bass/chords on the left, the melody in the right, and keeping the bellows moving so it doesn't run out of air mid-phrase, like it's trying to sing while drowning. Yes, I do have trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time, so this is going to be a challenge. I will never, ever, ever diss another accordion player in my life. This thing is a bitch to play.

But the good news is that, according to the experts at accordion.com, learning the accordion will not only increase my self-esteem, it may offer job opportunities. Things are looking up.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

The New Music Business Model Is Busking


I like buskers, mind you. I'll never forget the genius accordion player that was wailing away on a Bach fugue in a dark stairway of the Paris Metro. The acoustics were perfect, tons of reverb and echo, and this guy was playing the hell out of that Bach fugue. I heard the music from a long ways down the hall, and I was astounded when we turned the corner to see that this guy was playing Bach on a chromatic accordion, one without a piano keyboard. I stood there transfixed, and watched and listened, and dropped a couple of Euros in his case. He was great.

But now, the brave new generation that feels that free music is a given right, seems to think that all musicians should be buskers. Pay what you like, or don't pay at all. I can sort of see the sense in it. If you like the music you might stop a minute and listen, and then throw a few coins their way. If it's not your cup of tea, you hurry on, you didn't come to the subway for a concert after all, did you? But are musicians only entertainers, should we cue up alongside the jugglers and illusionists that line Venice Beach near LA? Is that the only purpose of music? Is that its only value?

Why do I have to allow my customers to decide the value of my product? I don't get that privilege from anyone else. Listen, you IT people that should be working when you're posting about your right to steal music on reddit or digg, would one of you come over to the house and sort out my computer? It's running really slow lately, I don't know. After you get done, I'LL decide what your services were worth. I need to get my teeth cleaned. Are there any dental hygienists out there that will let me decide what teeth cleaning is worth? Better yet, I think it should be free. After all, it's just a service, it just costs you your time. Use your service to promote the Dentist's office. If I like it, I might come back for a root canal.

I respect buskers, but I don't want to be one. Another time in Paris, I saw a line of accordion players waiting for their turn to busk on a subway train. I wish to hell I had had my camera with me. It was early in the morning, around 8:00, and there were six accordionists sitting on the bench on the metro platform. I missed a couple of trains just watching them, trying to see what was going on. A train would come into the station, and one of them would get on, and the rest of them continued to wait. It was like a bunch of taxi drivers lined up at the airport, waiting their turn for a fare.

If I wanted to beg for a living, I think I'd rather go to Thailand, and become a monk. I wouldn't even need an instrument, just my begging bowl.

Like I said, I admire buskers, I just don't want to be one. That's not why I became a musician.

The Tail Is Wagging The Dog


For some years now, I've been following the various ways that people rationalize their music downloading habits. Someday I should compile a list of them. The newest philosophy of the Internet Warriors is that Albums should be viewed as just promotional tools to get people to attend an artist's live shows. Give the music away, and people will support the artist by attending the gigs, they say. While it may sound reasonable on the surface, there are a whole lot of problems with this idea.

The basic flaw is that artists generally don't make money performing these days, unless they happen to be the Rolling Stones, Madonna, etc. Yep, they are making bank, and the ticket prices reflect that. But back in the days, it was not at all uncommon for the record labels to advance acts money for tour support. That's because most tours lose money. Yes, you read that right. They lose money, or barely cover the expenses. Well then why do the musicians put themselves through the misery that touring can be? To promote THE RECORD! Why did the label advance them money to tour? To promote THE RECORD! But no one wants to buy the records anymore. If they could figure out how to bit torrent concert tickets, I suppose they'd do that as well.

What is lost in the shuffle is that at some point, promotion has to pay off. If a small indie band has to pay to play at a club, as is all too common these days, how is giving away their music for free on the intertubes going to help them? Maybe if everyone in attendance bought the CD, a T-Shirt, whatever, but that just doesn't happen.

I get offers all the time to do something to either promote the group, or promote the CDs, but it all ends up an endless cycle of promotion that might make money for somebody, but not for me. The last offer I had to tour Europe was such poor money that I would have lost money doing it. Ten years ago, I would have considered it, just to promote the CD. But today? No way.

Giving away music to promote a live show is not realistic for artists without the following and success of groups like Radiohead, or Nine Inch Nails. Who, I have to add, wouldn't have their fan base without the efforts of the major label industry. The new business models proposed by the proponents of free music just don't work.

Please allow me to introduce myself...


I'm a man of wealth and taste. Well, actually, I'm a musician. An obscure musician. I like it that way. I've been a musician as long as I can remember, and played my first professional gig at the age of fifteen, in Cheyenne, Wyoming late summer, 1968.

I've had my ups and downs, day gigs have come and gone occasionally, but I've had some incredible luck along the way. I had some experiences that will stay with me forever.

Maybe I'll write about those experiences now and then, maybe not. Putting my name in Google will give you an idea. What I want to do with this blog is have a space to comment on the state of the music biz, what I'm doing currently musically, maybe I'll post some recipes.

I think I've been going off-topic a bit too much on my current blog at Mamborama.com, so I can rant and rave here, and who cares? Mamborama, by the way, is an experiment that I've been working on extremely hard for over eight years now. Cuban music is the bomb.