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About Content in Context

Content in Context helps companies to define the market for their products and services, to identify customers and build the business pipeline, and to develop their content marketing strategies. By working with our clients to design, build and grow their business, our primary focus is to extract commercial value from unique assets, including knowledge, data, know-how, processes and transactional information.

Musical Idolatry

As a rebooted version of “Australian Idol” appears on network television, I can’t decide whether programs like this are a result of the current state of the music industry OR are they the cause of the industry’s malaise…?

I’ll admit upfront that I know I’m not the target demographic for these shows (Idol, Voice, Talent…), so I’m not even going to comment on the quality of the musical content or the presentation format.

Before we had recorded music or broadcast radio, the industry relied upon song writers selling sheet music, in the hope their compositions would get performed in theatres and concert halls – and audiences would want to buy copies of the songs to perform at home.

Then, radio largely killed the music hall, and with the advent of the 7″ vinyl record, together they eventually displaced the reliance on sheet music sales. From the early 1960s onwards, we also saw more artists writing, performing and recording their own material, which transformed both music publishing and the record industry itself.

Although record labels still exist as a means to identify, develop and commercialise new talent, only three of the so-called major labels have survived – a process of industry consolidation and M&A activity that began in earnest in the 1980s – ironically, a period now regarded as a “Golden Age” of pop music.

A key legacy of the punk movement of the 1970s was a network of independent music labels, distributors, publishers and retailers – along with a strong DIY ethic of self-released records and independent fanzines, thanks to lower production costs and easier access to manufacturing and distribution.

Now, there is more new music being released than is humanly possible to listen to. It is relatively quick and simple to produce and release your own music – record on a home laptop (even a tablet or smart phone will do), upload the finished mp3 files to user-accessible platforms such as Bandcamp and SoundCloud, and promote yourself on social media. However, without significant marketing dollars to buy an audience, those hoping to become an overnight viral sensation may be disappointed. And even if you do manage to get traction on one of the global streaming platforms, the income from digital plays is a fraction of what artists used to earn from physical sales.

So that’s how the major labels (and some of the larger independents) still manage to dominate the industry: they have the budget to spend on developing new talent, and they have money for marketing campaigns (and possibly to influence those streaming algorithms). Plus, they have access to a huge back catalogue that they can carry on repackaging at a fraction of the original production costs.

It’s also true, however, that the shorter shelf-life of many newer artists means that labels don’t have such an appetite for long-term development plans, where they are willing to nurture a new talent for several years, before expecting a return on their initial investment. Just as with fast fashion, the pop music industry has become hooked on a fast turnover of product, because they know only a fraction of new releases will ever become a hit, and they have to keep feeding the beast with new content.

Which brings me back to programs like Idol. First, it’s one way for the music industry to fast-track their next success. Second, it literally is a popularity contest – the industry gets an idea of what the public likes, so they can pre-determine part of their release schedule. Third, hosting these contests on commercial TV means advertising dollars and sponsorship deals can help defray their A&R and marketing costs (or, at least help them to prioritise where to spend their money).

But let’s not pretend that these singing shows are nothing more than televised karaoke. Performers don’t get to play their own songs, or even play any instruments (as far as I can tell). The program content relies on cover versions – usually songs that are well-known, and therefore already road-tested on the audience. Plus, by choosing to perform a particular song, a contestant may hope to win by association or identification with the successful artist who originally recorded it. But contestants are not free to choose whatever song they like – my understanding is there are only 1,000 (popular) songs to choose from, just like karaoke.

In pretending to discover new talent, in part, the industry is simply hoping to re-release songs in their back catalogue, albeit with a new face on the record. Through the restrictive format of these programs, the industry is not discovering new musicians or finding new song writers and composers, and it’s certainly not forging any new direction in music, because of the reliance upon an existing formula, and dependence on a very specific (and somewhat narrow) strand of pop music.

Next week: Eat The Rich?

 

Compulsory maths?

Earlier this year, British Prime Minister, Rishi Sunak proposed that school pupils in the UK should study maths up until the age of 18. I didn’t think this was especially controversial, particularly the PM wasn’t advocating a focus on maths at the exclusion of all other subjects. Indeed, it was part of a policy to introduce a more rounded approach to the high school curriculum. It wasn’t quite a full endorsement for STEAM, but it did start a debate on the importance of improving levels of numeracy, among other skills.

There was quite a backlash against this announcement, most notably from those involved in the arts and entertainment. Many of them claim to have loathed and resented the subject, and concluded it was a waste of time because they have never used most of what they learnt since they left school.

I find this quite a strange reaction. Performers need to know how much commission their agent charges, or what income they should expect from their album, TV show or film deal. Artists use geometry, trigonometry and perspective all the time. And even celebrity chefs need to know how to interpret the weights, measures and timings of their recipes.

Quite apart from the its importance to the sciences, and its role in instilling numeracy skills and financial literacy, studying maths brings other benefits: it is like learning another language (important for learning coding skills), it plays a huge part in statistics and data analytics, and also helps in the teaching of logic and reasoning, as well as comparative and relational skills.

For those who may say that they simply need to know how to operate a calculator, rather than, say, remembering the manual way to find the square root of a number, you still need to know what buttons to press and why; and you need to have some idea of what the result should be, to make sure you got the process correct.

Next week: Musical Idolatry

 

 

It’s Only A Game…

“90 minutes of madness” is how the ABC described Australia’s latest batting collapse during the current Test series in India.

Much of the local, angst-ridden media commentary suggested that Australia’s batsmen threw the game away, as if they had “snatched defeat from the jaws of victory”.

True, most of the Australian players came unstuck playing a particular stroke that is not normally part of their natural Test-match technique. (Although it has become de rigueur in the T20 form of the game.) But even if the sweep shot was their agreed tactic against India’s spin bowlers, they forgot the two guiding principles of successful Test batting:

1) Play your natural game as much as possible;

But also:

2) Play according to the actual conditions (not according to prior expectations)

No doubt there will be calls for selection reviews, more enforced net sessions, and even suggestions that some of the team should be dropped for good – either because their time has come (in relation to a few senior players), or because the experiment has failed (in respect of recent choices). But there probably won’t be a call to cull any of the team’s leadership, given the tumult of the past few years. The present captain seems both a pretty likeable person and a professional player – unlike some of his recent predecessors, the continued presence of whom casts a shadow over the Australian team.

None of which really acknowledges that however badly Australia performed, they were simply out-classed and out-played by their opponents. Failure to realise this fact perpetuates the notion that the opposition can never be as good as, let alone better than, the men in baggy green. And it reinforces the arrogant belief that Australia is somehow invincible, and only loses when it trips over its own self-confidence.

Of course, like any professional sport, cricket is just a game, and the top players get paid handsomely to train, travel overseas and turn up to hit a ball around. And like any job, you can sometimes have a bad day in the office…

Next week: Compulsory maths?

 

 

Pivot Point

2022 marked a significant, personal pivot point: I have now lived more than half my life outside my country of birth.

When I was young, I did not imagine my life panning out this way. Although I spent part of my childhood living in Australia, after my family moved back to the UK, I thought that was probably it – no more big overseas adventures.

At one point, I had a fanciful notion that perhaps I might live and work for a while in somewhere like Paris or New York. But after university, I settled in London, and didn’t see myself moving anywhere else. After ten years working there, I bought my first apartment, and with the associated financial commitments, the prospect of relocating seemed even more remote.

Then, out of the blue, I was given the opportunity to move to Hong Kong. The idea was I would spend 1-2 years setting up a business there, after which my employer would move me back to London.

However, after six years in Hong Kong, and having met my partner, it seemed less and less likely that I would return to the UK – she planned to move back to Australia, and having had that earlier childhood experience, it seemed a natural and logical choice for me to follow her to Melbourne.

And more than 20  years later, here we are still.

I think passing this half-way point became more significant thanks to the past few years of limited overseas travel – my trip to the UK last November was the first time I had visited in four years, the longest period I had been away from my “home” country.

I’m not saying I won’t move or live anywhere else (never say never…), but the likelihood does seem to diminish with each year, and I just find it harder to imagine.

Next week: It’s Only A Game…