Amidst all the recent Music 2.0 wonk and posturing, the preposterous notion of fans as “thieves” has been largely bandied about. Which got me thinking about the art of Picasso-ian stealing:

Good artists copy. Great artists steal.

So then, assuming you, as an artist, naturally wish to be great, the co-opting (stealing) of a pre-existing successful business model is key.

Step 1.

In order to become a bona fide “thief,” you must first swap your music-industry-imposed traditional role as Creative Underling for Opportunistic Vigilante-Entrepreneur.

Voilà.

If I’m not mistaken, we just stole you an all new identity.

Step 2.

Now that you’re an entrepreneur, it makes sense to take (steal) someone else’s ingenious entrepreneurial principles and apply them to your career. If you don’t know former Apple visionary and current Garage Technology CEO Guy Kawasaki, not to worry, you’re not alone. Nonetheless, RUSH out and buy this book.

A few noteworthy highlights:

First, ask yourself if your reasons for making music, for making “meaning” as Guy calls it, are any of the following:

• Make the world a better place.
• Increase the quality of life.
• Right terrible wrong.
• Prevent the end of something good.

If not, to be frank, get the hell out of the music business. Seriously.

If so, read on.

Guy’s Key Principles of Getting Going/Kate’s Examples of How They Might Apply to You:

• THINK BIG. Self-explanatory. Thinking small is pointless.
• FIND A FEW SOULMATES. Going it alone at the beginning is historically risky. Think “strength in numbers” or “The Tribe.”
• POLARIZE PEOPLE. People are either devoted fans or relentless critics. Because you can’t monetize passivity, utterly and completely embrace whatever it is that’s your thing (rare talent, controversy, parody, etc.) and then highlight the fact that it’s the opposite of someone else’s thing. Remember, it’s 7-Up, the Un-Cola.

And lastly, Guy’s Business Model Basics/Kate’s Examples of How They Might Apply to You:

• BE SPECIFIC. In a world where the market is flooded with endless music choices, niche is essential. Know your audience and create music specifically for them.
• KEEP IT SIMPLE. Describe your music. The “sounds like” section on your Myspace page should contain a concise, recognizable answer. Declaring that you don’t sound like anybody is a) impossible and b) stupid.
• COPY SOMEBODY. Commerce has been around a long time, and by now clever people have pretty much invented every business model that’s possible. You can innovate in technology, markets, and customers, but inventing a new business model is a bad bet. Try to relate your business model to one that’s already successful and understood. You have plenty of other battles to fight. Did he say “copy?” I think in this case, it’s safe to interpret that as “steal.”

Eureka.

Step 3.

In order to define your business model — to identify which already successful (THINK BIG) business model you’re going to steal — Guy suggests you answer two questions:

• Who has your money in their pockets?
• How are you going to get it into your pocket?

Obviously, the “who” would be your audience, your fans. But here’s where you need to BE SPECIFIC… what kind of people are your fans? And while you’ll want to narrow it down, no need to get into overly-heady psychographics (KEEP IT SIMPLE). For example:

• Do they drive Volvos and Subarus?
• Do they shop at Whole Foods?
• Are they college-educated?
• Are they taste-makers?
• If you sound kind of like Nick Drake, are they the kind of people that like Nick Drake?

This information will help define how you market your music to your fans and, more importantly, how you can potentially connect with them. So if the answer to the above five questions is yes, chances are that if you have a mohawk you’ll want to consider a new ‘do. On the flip side, if you’re a diehard recycler, requesting blue bins to be available at your next venue might be a connection-savvy idea.

The “how” is, of course, less obvious. So let me suggest a successful business model worth stealing (COPY SOMEBODY): Public Radio.

For instance, the folks at Public Radio are cross-promotion (FIND A FEW SOULMATES) experts, fluidly connecting the listeners of one show to another. If you like Garrison Keillor, check out the Sunday Morning Bluegrass Show, etc.. You get the picture. Moreover, thousands of stations additionally join forces to promote and air specific shows, i.e., All Things Considered and the like. Hence, teaming up with other artists who have a similar fan base to yours and then leveraging your respective audiences is an excellent way to both maximize your resources as well as both your individual profile and that of the whole. Three words: Hotel Café Tour.

Notice too that Public Radio excels at what Guy calls “catalyz[ing] passion” (POLARIZE PEOPLE): come fund-drive time, it’s a love-hate thing. But this polarity is exactly what makes fund-drives the most-listened to times of year, overall. No joke. Moreover, it’s this same polarity that separates mere “listeners” from the contributing elite, a.k.a. “members;” if you’ve ever donated to Public Radio, you know that membership affords you outright bragging rights. YOUR individual contribution is directly connected to the success of the station. It’s a pride thing.

It’s not difficult to figure out then, that as an artist, you too want to catalyze this kind of passion, ownership, and connection that gives your fans bragging rights. Which makes the pay-as-you-see-fit model an appealing vehicle for cultivating an interactive environment where fans actually have a stake in your career. Connection. Loyalty. Radiohead. Quite smartly, Public Radio not only celebrates but also perpetuates the whole idea of membership-pride through regular, public acknowledgment, member-only thank you gifts, as well as access to special events, etc. You can see then, that if we’re following the model, it’s not enough to just allow fans to determine how much your record is worth. You can’t stop there. Once a listener has made the jump to fan (fans being your paying investors) you’ve got to keep them hooked. And remember, by rewarding your fans in this way, they will spread the word about you, for FREE. Therefore, you’ve got to continue to thank them, both publicly (perhaps a scrolling marquee listing names on your website) and individually (a personal e-mail should do it). Plus, why not throw in some added value (limited-edition recordings, front row tickets, etc.) to use as leverage for increasing the amount of money you hope each fan will part with? For example, $5 gets the record, $10 gets the record AND a live recording of the upcoming New Year’s Eve concert. I call this the McDonald’s Bundling Model; ordering a #1 is cheaper than separately ordering a Coke, a hamburger, and some fries… but even if you only wanted a hamburger and fries, you’re more likely to go for the bundle because it’s a better deal. Tried and true.

And while we’re talking dollar amounts, again, BE SPECIFIC. “Whatever you feel comfortable with” is NOT specific. $5, $10, $50… that’s more like it. Having worked in Public Radio myself, I can tell you that a successful fund-drive host knows that you get what you ask for. So if you request only $50 pledges, the majority of pledges you’ll receive will — you guessed it — be for $50. However, if instead you ask for $500 pledges (THINK BIG), the majority of pledges will be for $500. Which is not to say that everyone will suddenly have $500… the point is that narrowing options as well as switching them up begets better results. I call this the Ben & Jerry’s Model; if you offer 32 flavors, chances are people will still choose Chocolate, Vanilla or Strawberry… but if you offer only Chocolate, Vanilla or Strawberry and then a rotating few exotic flavors, you’ll sell more Chunky Monkey and Cherry Garcia. Those of you who have been longtime Ben & Jerry’s customers will recall all sorts of wild choices that, over the years have been limited considerably, for what I’m guessing is this reason.

Another Public Radio tactic worth adopting is the “challenge.” That’s when someone who is already a member puts up a high dollar amount and challenges the station to raise that same amount in a certain time frame. If the station meets the goal, they also get the challenge amount. If they don’t meet the goal, it’s off the table. Not only does this create sense of urgency, thereby increasing the possibility of pledges but it also gives potential members a chance to add value to their contribution. Imagine, for instance, that you, the artist, have a benefactor who wants to help you produce a record and they’ve agreed to put up $5,000 for every $5,000 you accrue in donations from your fans. It could work.

And lastly, Public Radio relies heavily on the ability to draw on emotions and experience during a fund-drive. You (a fellow listener) are often asked to consider what life would be like without Public Radio… talk about a rough commute. Or you’re reminded of the iconic Public Radio “driveway moment.” Maybe the host makes a correlation between the $4 you spend at Starbucks everyday and suggests that if you’re willing to pay that much for coffee, why not for Morning Edition? Connection, connection, connection. After all, why wouldn’t that same $4 be better spent as an investment in an artist who’s entertained you for decades, whose music has served as the soundtrack to so many memories? Or maybe it’s a new artist who has captivated you unexpectedly by reminding you how exciting hearing a great song for the first time can be… reminiscent of your youth? Worth $4? Why not?

In any case, now that the whole idea of fan-determined pricing is out there, why stop at the basics? Jump in. Go whole-hog. Don’t settle for good, be great. Steal the whole damn Public Radio model and see what happens. In an age of stealing versus free, what have you got to lose?

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

© Outlandos Music^TM 2008
  

No Comments »

In our house, we don’t have TV. And not because we’re on that crack-political agenda bandwagon… God knows I love me some mindless TV. But up here in the sticks, it’s all static without cable. And cable is hella expensive. Netflix (bless it!) is cheap. Internet TV (Survivor, The Office, etc.) is free.

We make do.

But last week, while visiting my fully cable-equipped parents’ house, it was a no-holds-barred, all-out, brain-numbing TV bonanza: Deal or No Deal, Dancing with the Stars, and that gravy train, top-dog of shows, American Idol.

Man, it was bad. But still, I watched along with 30 million other walleyed viewers.

Why?

For the most part, and to be fair (because honestly, I wanted to gag my eyeballs out) the singing is fine… if hitting the notes is the standard, those kids certainly have me beat. So I guess you call that “talent.”

But musicianship? Artistry? Not even close.

Let’s be clear, Idol contestants are performers. And while I applaud courage (after all, performing in front of 30 million people takes guts), they are not legends-in-the-making. Will YOU be following Kelly Clarkson’s career in 10 years?

First and foremost, the music on American Idol just plain sucks. And I don’t mean the songs themselves (overall), I mean the whole package, the actual music. Even the classics — at best, mere props for the aforementioned “talent.”

But last week wasn’t about brazen attempts to out-do the likes of Al Green, Freddie Mercury or Elton John. That might have been less painful. Instead, Mariah Carey guest-starred, so the show focused on her music (if you can call it music). Each performer had to cover one of her songs… apparently the new high-bar that America’s aspiring “musicians” are aiming for. Egads.

Admittedly, I had a moment of blushing reflection. Is that what my parents thought, back in my Madonna days?

Madonna, at least, was undeniably interesting. She made up for her lack of musicianship with stunts… the hairdos, the fingerless lace gloves, the cone-boobs, the dry-humping… we ate it up.

What’s interesting about Idol is the wrong notes, the embarrassment, the tears, the unpredictability, the drama, the inevitable Cowell-induced squirming, the witnessing of shattered dreams, hell, even Cowell’s accent is utterly captivating to the average land-locked American. But the potential of failure, that’s the real dog-and-pony-show. We get high off it. Perfect is boring, mistakes are exciting! Now that’s fucked up. Albeit, remarkably human.

And the humanity is the draw. It’s a kind of voyeuristic-awe, a window into someone else’s adventure (or misadventure), bundled in the irresistibly compelling notion of “That could be me!” Evocative. Relatable. Addictive.

Plus, there’s power. There’s the voting. The idea that we, the viewers, have a substantial amount of control over each performer’s destiny is deliciously Machiavellian. Even that qualifies as shared experience. The connection is there.

When you think about it, this sort of innately irresistible appeal is what allows connection to outweigh actual musicianship, it’s what allows performance to trump art. So it was no surprise when the Idol caller who mentioned National Record Store Day received an awkward silent pause in response — as if to say not “Who knew?” but instead “Huh? What’s a record store?”

Certainly, when it comes to most Idol viewers, we’re not dealing with record collectors or investors in music (dropping a paltry $.99 per song does not qualify you as an investor). Hence, content, a.k.a. quality is not king. And although some people would suggest that this is a recent phenomenon, the opposite is true. Think about it. How many times have you been to a concert where the sound was crap, your seat was crap, the beer was crap… but still, you came away having the time of your life? The songs sounded different than they did on the record — a good thing. There were wrong notes — you loved every one of them. You felt a connection. If you were at a Ryan Adams concert, maybe he played the same song three times in a row, God bless him. Brilliant. Because it was imperfect. Because it was REAL.

And real is king. Yet in a world of digital audio, the autotune, the overdubs, etc., what is real, what is wonderful, gets stripped away. The goal is absolute PERFECTION. Lifeless, utterly boring perfection. Anyone with a computer can achieve it, you no longer have to be an actual musician to make “music.” You’ve heard this one:

What did the ProTools engineer say to the band? That sucked, come on in.

Even Madonna figured out that it was high-time she at least learned to play the guitar. Less provocative stunting, but still, real.

All I’m saying is what if we combined what is real with what is great? Unheard of, right? Is it so much more work to raise the standards, to create something more than entertaining… a timeless lollapalooza of both humanity and caliber? Something both captivating and world-class? The kind of thing that people would even be willing to pay for?

Oh yeah, it’s called HBO.

So here’s an idea for you Bill Nelson: on the off chance you guys wanted to get into the reality-TV game, why not kick Fox’s ass with a show for the rest of us: how about a TV version of real-life Guitar Hero, something of an American Guitar Idol? Now that would be worth watching. Seriously. I might even reconsider paying for cable.

© Outlandos Music^TM 2008

No Comments »

Cream, serum, gel… let’s just say my daily eye care regimen is substantial. What can I say? I want to look young forever. More importantly, I want to feel young forever… if only you could buy that in a jar.

When it comes to tapping that oft-elusive fountain of youth, nostalgia does the trick for me. Which is why last week, I gladly pinned my 60-odd, audio-Botox bucks on Rhino’s Brit Box: 78 of Brittania’s coolest Indie/Shoegaze Britpop outfits — largely uncelebrated in the US, yet heroically resurrected in this smartly packaged box set — complete with a cherry-red telephone box cover image (iconic of all things across-the-pond) smothered in Brit-band bumper stickers that any fan would kill to get their hands on. Brill!

Spanning the decade and a half (’85-’99) when the de rigeur stateside was Bon Jovi, Hootie & the Blowfish, the Backstreet Boys etc., the Brit Box puts forth a time capsule that answers its own question: “How did British pop music go from the Sex Pistols to Spandeau Ballet in barely 4 years?” Tell me more.

Disc 1 kicks the set off with The Smiths’ groundbreaking, “How Soon Is Now,” redefining the guitar’s rightful place in alternative rock with Marr’s rapturous tremolo swagger… just a taste of things to come. Mighty Lemon Drops, Echo & the Bunnymen, The Wonder Stuff, Trashcan Sinatras, The Sundays, etc.. All bands that I wish I was listening to at the time but in truth, didn’t come around to discovering properly until much later. Highlights include Cocteau Twins’ “Lorelei” (Elizabeth Fraser in all her breathy splendor), The Primitives’ “Crash” (when Candypop done right was oh so delicious), Happy Mondays’ “Step On” (Madchester meets Kongos, hell yes).

And who knew that Shoegaze in its infancy was actually cool (not the trendy, messy-haired confessional “Snoozegaze” of today)? If, like me, you missed it the first go around, Disc 2 (my favorite) will school you proper. My Bloody Valentine, Lush, Catherine Wheel, Teenage Fanclub, etc.. Highlights include Chapterhouse’s “Pearl” (Zeppelin-sample-driven shimmer-haze, dreamy!), The Family Cat “(Thought I’d Died) And Gone to Heaven” (a garage-esque hark-back to the Beatles’ “Rain“), Birdland’s “Shoot You Down” (surely, a band these guys took their cue from).

Getting back to a time where the mere mention of Britpop caused a bona fide, paparazzi-worthy, drug-laced frenzy, Disc 3 justifiably puts infamous rivals Oasis and Blur (easily the better of the two) smack dab in the middle of fellow scene-sters Nick Heyward, Pulp, Echobelly, Supergrass, Elastica, etc. Highlights include James’ “Laid” (obvious but just so freaking great), Stereolab’s “Wow & Flutter” (slightly muffled pop-exotica groove at its finest), Menswear’s “Sleeping In” (skip to 1:40 and keep that tambourine comin’).

In a post-Oasis world, Disc 4 (my least favorite) runs the gamut from Cornershop, The Divine Comedy, and Spiritualized, to The Verve, Placebo, etc. But in spite of co-curator John Hagelston’s admission of “absences beyond our control” (Radiohead, for one), a few highlights: Kula Shaker’s “Tattva” (yummy sitar-singed psychedelic-pop), Super Furry Animals’ “Something 4 the Weekend” (grab-your-acid-and-go-rock), Silver Sun “Service” (lush power-pop all the way… stunning… track not available online).

And if that’s not enough, the 79-page liner notes booklet comes jammed with photos (look out cockatoo-hair dos and a whole lot of eyeliner), gobs of Brit Box-garnered band quotes, and in-depth track by track diagnosis, plus Andrew Perry’s 20-page overview, worth every pretty English word.

Feel free to view a complete track listing here.

The best part is that while I recognized most of the bands, a lot of the actual songs were new to me, excepting the few, choice ringers. A side-effect of US versus UK radio I imagine. Double bonus!

I, for one, am feeling younger already.

© Outlandos Music^TM 2008

1 Comment »

The headline reads: “Network Radio Bucking Trend.”

Really? Amidst all the sexy buzz of Satellite, iPods, Pandora, Last FM etc., somehow, somewhere, someone is successfully resurrecting the art of bona fide radio?

Yeah, no.

Rest assured, the “trend” of listeners moving away from radio is still going strong. For the multitude of late-adopting advertisers, it’s a different story.

In theory, if, miraculously, you are still convinced that radio is your optimum connection to consumers, Network Radio makes sense. As the big-box stores of radio, Citadel, Infinity, Westwood One, etc. can offer lower prices across a larger reach. Not surprisingly, local stations can’t compete.

In theory.

First and foremost, let’s be clear that for Network Radio, and most radio in general, you, the listener, are NOT the priority. When radio execs talk about “client service,” you are NOT the client. Of course, if you’ve listened to radio in the last 20-30 years or so, you already know this: the advertiser is king, you are an afterthought.

Nonetheless, this is what Maja Mijatovic, director of national radio at Horizon Media calls the “hot new medium.”

Um, NOT.

Here’s how it works.

It’s all based on so-called research. First, the folks at Arbitron ask a few listeners to record their radio habits over a short amount of time. And by a few, I mean less than 1% of the entire US population… accounting for ALL radio listening estimates. Clearly, it’s not an exact science… more of a trust-based thing? Okay….

Once the decidedly questionable data is collected, it can be manipulated in a variety of ways (as all data can) so as to best benefit each station. Most importantly, a station’s “share,” i.e., the percentage of listeners, as it relates to that of other stations in the area, then becomes the determining factor for how much they can charge for commercial.

So it’s no wonder that the actual music being broadcast in between the commercials (and not the other way around) is utter crap. They’re not programming for you, they’re programming for the ad execs at Wal-Mart.

Barry Berman, president of CRN Radio (Mancow syndicators) calls this “client service mentality.” I call it client-programming.

And when you program for the client — the wallet-waving hoi polloi — banal, formulaic, factory-made-for-the-herd ear-candy will do.

Because nobody’s listening. They don’t have to. Taste has been made obsolete.

The thing is, for a while there, we, the listeners, were more or less okay with this. We trusted radio. We honestly believed that a human being with actual discerning taste was still choosing music, just for us. And even as it became more and more clear that this was no longer the case, we placidly continued to go along with the whole guise. We didn’t demand anything better. Shame on us. Or should I say, moo.

And then Radio 2.0 started to happen… all kinds of music that we’d never heard on the radio was suddenly everywhere. And it was so much better! And we felt tricked. Buh-bye radio.

Network Radio’s response? Dumb it down even more. Alice. Froggy. Jack.

Jackass.

Local Radio’s response? Panic and try to be more like Network Radio.

No! No! No!

Dear Local Radio, truth be told, we miss you. We miss spontaneity, creativity, all the things that made up that once-upon–time radio magic. We miss a trusted source, a flesh-and-blood human who we connected with, who talked to us (not at us), who seemed to magically know exactly what it was we wanted to hear, when we wanted to hear it. We miss being MORE than listeners… we miss being FANS.

Lord knows that at least Satellite Radio is certainly trying to give this a go. But as for Local Radio, barring a few exceptional stations peppered across the country, it’s likely too late. So there seems to be only two choices: throw in the towel and get swallowed up along with Network Radio or… buck the damned trend! Stop chasing Network Radio’s tail. Take a risk: make fans the priority. And, I’ve said it before: screw Arbitron, find great music, play it.

One thing’s for sure… programming for the masses is out. Programming for the niche is in.

And no one is better poised to program for the niche than Local Radio.

Providing a great service for the niche, that’s the ticket. That’s how you create fans. And once you have fans, the money will follow. Because fans are more than willing to pay for great service. Fans even fight for great service. Hell, television’s got fans who are even willing to happily tolerate commercials, in some cases, with baited breath. Why not radio?

Now that would be the real hot new medium. Yowsers.

© Outlandos Music^TM 2008

2 Comments »