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?

 

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?

 

 

I CAN live without my radio…

After posting my last blog on digital vs analog music, I saw the media commentary about the decline in Triple J’s audience numbers. There was a suggestion that younger people no longer listen to the radio, and have shifted to digital formats such as streaming and podcasts. As is often the case, the headline doesn’t necessarily tell the full story – and thanks to Tim Burrowes, we also have a deeper dive into the underlying data.

Seems like we CAN live without our radio (especially Triple J…) (Photo of LL Cool J by Janette Beckman, image sourced from Bloomberg)

I’m obviously not part of Triple J’s target demographic (18-24 year-olds), but I find the concept of age-oriented radio (and music) somewhat bizarre. If I was that age again, I’d probably find it highly patronizing that a national broadcaster was trying to force me into a random age bracket, on the assumption that they knew my taste in music, and/or they knew what was good for me. It’s an arrogant, simplistic and reductionist approach to broadcasting. Even now, I may not listen to all the exact same music I liked when I was that age, but my taste in music didn’t suddenly change when I turned 18 (or 24). Humans are much more subtle and idiosyncratic than demographers, marketers and programmers may like to think.

Anyway, it got me thinking about my own experience of listening to the radio, and how it formed my outlook on music. Once I had access to a portable transistor radio, it meant I got to choose which stations I listened to, and what types of music I heard, rather than what my parents or older sisters were listening to in the rest of the house. Although as a young teenager, I still kept an ear out for what was popular, I tuned out of the Top 40 format early on, in favour of pirate stations like Radio Caroline (which played mainly prog rock and psychedelic sounds), and the John Peel show on BBC Radio 1 (during his heyday of 1976-83 – the punk and post-punk era). When I first heard the whole of side 1 of Kraftwerk’s “Autobahn” album played on the radio in 1974 (I was 13 at the time), I realised that the 3 minute, 45 rpm, 7″ vinyl single wasn’t the only option…

Alongside broadcast radio, the UK’s infamous weekly music papers were the major source of information about the industry. With three titles, New Musical Express, Melody Maker, and Sounds, dominating the market in those pre-internet, pre-MTV days of yore, the inkies were the main way to find out about new bands, new releases, upcoming gigs, as well as album and live reviews. Then there were the listing magazines (which covered more than music), and the fanzines that proliferated in the wake of punk.

As I had more access to live music during my teenage years and beyond, music radio became less important. And although my gig attendance is more sporadic these days (no reflection on Melbourne’s excellent live music scene!) the only music radio stations I currently listen to are ABC Jazz, SBS Chill (especially Sunday mornings…) and Stuart Maconie’s Freak Zone on BBC Radio 6. I can’t bear to listen to most commercial radio or so-called popular music stations (age-oriented or otherwise) – it’s not only because of the music they play, it’s the actual production quality, programme format, presentation style and the absence of “space”: everything is crammed into every available piece of bandwidth, compressed within a decibel if its life, and the content lacks variety, depth or subtlety.

When I moved to Melbourne 20 years ago, ABC Radio National had a weekly programme called “Sound Quality”, that featured some of the most varied, interesting and challenging new music around – in fact, it was probably the only place to hear this stuff on national radio. It also encouraged listener-contributed content, and I was fortunate to have several of my own pieces played on air (ok, so I’m biased). Sadly, the programme was decommissioned in 2015, and nothing comprarable has taken its place.

In a further twist, I tend to hear about new (and old) Australian music via my local record stores, particularly the ones that specialise in vinyl, namely RockSteady Records, Northside Records, Dutch Vinyl and The Searchers.

Next week: Reflections on The Kimberley

 

Free speech up for sale

When I was planning to post this article a couple of weeks ago, Elon Musk’s bid to buy Twitter and take it into private ownership was looking unlikely to succeed. Musk had just declined to take up the offer of a seat on the Twitter board, following which the board adopted a poison-pill defence against a hostile takeover. And just as I was about to go to press at my usual time, the news broke that the original bid had now been accepted by the board, so I hit the pause button instead and waited a day to see what the public reaction was. What a difference 72 hours (and US$44bn) can make… It seems “free speech” does indeed come with a price.

Of course, the Twitter transaction is still subject to shareholder approval and regulatory clearance, as well as confirmation of the funding structure, since Musk is having to raise about half the stated purchase from banks.

Musk’s stated objective in acquiring Twitter was highlighted in a press release put out by the company:

“Free speech is the bedrock of a functioning democracy, and Twitter is the digital town square where matters vital to the future of humanity are debated,” said Mr. Musk. “I also want to make Twitter better than ever by enhancing the product with new features, making the algorithms open source to increase trust, defeating the spam bots, and authenticating all humans. Twitter has tremendous potential – I look forward to working with the company and the community of users to unlock it.”

This latest development in Musk’s apparent love/hate relationship with Twitter is bound to further divide existing users as to the billionaire’s intentions, as well as raise concerns about the broader implications for free speech. Musk himself has encouraged his “worst critics” to stay with the platform. Meanwhile, founder and former CEO, Jack Dorsey has renewed his love of Twitter, despite only recently stepping away from the top job to spend more time on his other interests.

Personally, I’m not overly concerned that a platform such as Twitter is in private hands or under single ownership (subject, of course, to anti-trust rules, etc.). Far from creating an entrenched monopoly, it may actually encourage more competition by those who decide to opt out of Twitter. What I am less comfortable with is the notion that Twitter somehow acts as an exemplar of free speech, and as such, is a bastion of democracy.

On the positive side, we will be able to judge the veracity of Musk’s objectives against his actual deeds. For example, will Twitter actually introduce an edit button, make its algorithms open-source, exorcise the spam bots, verify users, and reduce/remove the platform’s reliance upon advertising?

On the negative side, what credible stance will Twitter now take on “free speech”, short of allowing an “anything goes” policy? If Musk is sincere that Twitter will be a platform for debating “matters vital to the future of humanity”, he may need to modify what he means by public discourse. Personal slanging matches with fellow-billionaires (and those less-able to defend themselves) do not make for an edifying public debating forum. Musk’s own disclosures about Twitter and his other business interests will also come under increased scrutiny. We know from past experience that Elon’s Tweets can move markets, and for this alone he should be aware of the responsibility that comes with ownership of the platform.

We have long understood that free speech is not the same as an unfettered right to say what you like in public – there are limits to freedom of expression, including accountability for the consequences of our words and actions, especially where they can cause harm. The broader challenges we face are:

  • technology outpacing regulation, when it comes to social media
  • defining what it means to “cause offence”
  • increased attacks on “mainstream media” and threats to freedom of the press

1. Just as the printing press, telegraphy, telephony, broadcasting and the internet each resulted in legislative changes, social media has continued to test the boundaries of regulation under which its predecessors now operate. Hitherto, much of the regulation that applies to social and digital media relates to privacy and data protection, as well as the existing law of defamation. But the latter varies considerably by jurisdiction, and by access to redress, and availability of remedies. Social media platforms have resisted attempts to treat them as traditional media (newspapers and broadcasters, which are subject to licensing and/or industry codes of practice) or treat them as publishers (and therefore responsible for content published on their platforms). (Then there is the question of how some social media platforms manage their tax affairs in the countries where they derive their revenue.)

The Australian government is attempting to challenge social media companies in a couple of ways. The first has been to force these platforms to pay for third-party news content from which they directly and indirectly generate advertising income. The second aims to hold social media more accountable for defamatory content published on their platforms, and remove the protection of “anonymity”. However, the former might be seen as a (belated) reaction to changing business models, and largely acting in favour of incumbents; while the latter is a technical response to the complex law of defamation in the digital age.

2. The ability to be offended by what we see or hear on social media is now at such a low bar as to be almost meaningless. During previous battles over censorship in print, on stage or on screen, the argument could be made that, “if you don’t like something you aren’t being forced to watch it”, so maybe you are deliberately going in search of content just to find it offensive. The problem is, social media by its very nature is more pervasive and, fed by hidden algorithms, is actually more invasive than traditional print and broadcast media. Even as a casual, passive or innocent user, you cannot avoid seeing something that may “offend” you. Economic and technical barriers to entry are likewise so low, that anyone and everyone can have their say on social media.

Leaving aside defamation laws, the concept of “hate speech” is being used to target content which is designed to advocate violence, or can be reasonably deemed or expected to have provoked violence or the threat of harm (personal, social or economic). I have problems with how we define hate speech in the current environment of public commentary and social media platforms, since the causal link between intent and consequence is not always that easy to establish.

However, I think we can agree that the use of content to vilify others simply based on their race, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, economic status, political affiliation or religious identity cannot be defended on the grounds of “free speech”, “fair comment” or “personal belief”. Yet how do we discourage such diatribes without accusations of censorship or authoritarianism, and how do we establish workable remedies to curtail the harmful effects of “hate speech” without infringing our civil liberties?

Overall, there is a need to establish the author’s intent (their purpose as well as any justification), plus apply a “reasonable person” standard, one that does not simply affirm confirmation bias of one sector of society against another. We must recognise that hiding behind our personal ideology cannot be an acceptable defence against facing the consequences of our actions.

3. I think it’s problematic that large sections of the traditional media have hardly covered themselves in glory when it comes to their ethical standards, and their willingness to misuse their public platforms, economic power and political influence to undertake nefarious behaviour and/or deny any responsibility for their actions. Think of the UK’s phone hacking scandals, which resulted in one press baron being deemed “unfit to run a company”, as well as leading to the closure of a major newspaper.

That said, it hardly justifies the attempts by some governments, populist leaders and authoritarian regimes to continuously undermine the integrity of the fourth estate. It certainly doesn’t warrant the prosecution and persecution of journalists who are simply trying to do their job, nor attacks and bans on the media unless they “tow the party line”.

Which brings me back to Twitter, and its responsibility in helping to preserve free speech, while preventing its platform being hijacked for the purposes of vilification and incitement to cause harm. If its new owner is serious about furthering public debate and mature discourse, then here are a few other enhancements he might want to consider:

  • in addition to an edit button, a “cooling off” period whereby users are given the opportunity to reconsider a like, a post or a retweet, based on user feedback or community interaction – after which time, they might be deemed responsible for the content as if they were the original author (potentially a way to mitigate “pile-ons”)
  • signing up to a recognised industry code of ethics, including a victim’s formal right of reply, access to mediation, and enforcement procedures and penalties against perpetrators who continually cross the line into vilification, or engage in content that explicitly or implicitly advocates violence or harm
  • a more robust fact-checking process and a policy of “truth in advertising” when it comes to claims or accusations made by or on behalf of politicians, political parties, or those seeking elected office
  • clearer delineation between content which is mere opinion, content which is in the nature of a public service (e.g., emergencies and natural disasters), content which is deemed part of a company’s public disclosure obligations, content which is advertorial, content which is on behalf of a political party or candidate, and content which is purely for entertainment purposes only (removing the bots may not be enough)
  • consideration of establishing an independent editorial board that can also advocate on behalf of alleged victims of vilification, and act as the initial arbiter of “public interest” matters (such as privacy, data protection, whistle-blowers etc.)

Finally, if Twitter is going to remove/reduce advertising, what will the commercial model look like?

Next week: The Crypto Conversation