The Five Ws of Journalism

The importance of a free press within a democratic society cannot be overstated: without the Fourth Estate who will “speak truth unto power”? The role of the printing press was critical to the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the great political reforms in nineteenth century Britain.

But lapses in journalistic behaviour and a decline in editorial standards over the past few decades have brought the press and broadcast media into increasing disrepute – to the point that mainstream media (MSM) has become a pejorative term, and social media (SoMe) claims to be the last bastion of free speech.

I think the truth lies somewhere between those two positions – I don’t believe that the MSM is totally devoid of ethics, nor do I believe that SoMe will displace formal journalism (and it certainly isn’t without its own ethical challenges when it comes to dis/misinformation and hate speech).

But what do I mean by “formal journalism”? After all, we have seen a raft of platforms giving rise to “citizen journalism” and other services which rely heavily on community sourced content, but few of these platforms appear to operate to the same professional standards of traditional reportage, fact-checking, investigative journalism or news dissemination. It also remains to be seen whether these new media channels can displace traditional print (and online) news media as “papers of record”.

As part of a career transition, I took a night class in journalism and sub-editing, with a view to becoming a writer or editor. Although I did work as an editor for many years, it was in the field of legal publishing, and not for a newspaper or magazine. Even though the course I completed was not a traditional degree in journalism, communications or media studies, I was still taught some of the key tenets of serious journalism, principally the Five W’s – the “who, what, where, when and why” of any news event (with the “how” also being an important component of any credible story).

This foundational approach to news reporting underpinned many of the most significant pieces of investigative journalism in the late 20th century, some of which changed laws and government policies, as well as influencing public opinion. Think of the role of the press in breaking the thalidomide story, publishing the Pentagon Papers, or exposing the Watergate cover-up. Even the Panama Papers relied on the collaboration of traditional news media outlets to bring the story to public attention. More recently, the work of Private Eye in helping to bring the UK’s post office miscarriage of justice to light is a prime example of the power of journalistic persistence in search of the truth.

On the other hand, a raft of tabloid scandals have dented the public trust in the traditional press, in particular the phone hacking exploits within the British media. Here in Australia, a recent high profile defamation case prompted the judge to put TV journalism under the microscope – and neither broadcaster involved in the case came away covered in glory. In particular, the court questioned whether the journalists involved had breached their own industry code of practice, by failing to check their facts and by inadequately testing the credibility of their witnesses. The grubby practice of cheque book journalism also came under renewed scrutiny, as did an ill-advised speech on TV by one of the parties that could have been prejudicial to a criminal case. More significantly, one media organisation displayed a willingness to believe (and even assert) that there had been a political conspiracy to suppress an alleged crime, when no such evidence of a cover-up had been established. This case (and its associated claims and counterclaims) still has a fair way to go, and has already embroiled senior politicians (some of whom have been accused of lying about what they knew, when and how), civil servants, political staffers, public prosecutors, multiple police forces, so-called “fixers” and “influencers” with their insidious “back grounding” and a number of TV producers who will probably never work in the industry again.

Added to this sh!t show has been the misnaming of a suspected murderer by one of the above-mentioned TV news channels. This major and latest faux-pas is believed to have been the result of “reporting” some false, misleading or mischievous commentary circulating on social media.

Apart from undertaking more rigorous fact-checking, and enforcing the established journalistic practice of getting actual confirmation of events from at least two credible sources, the news media also needs to make a greater distinction between the facts themselves on the one hand, and conjecture, speculation, opinion, analysis and commentary on the other.

Next week: Is it OK to take selfies in the gym?

 

 

 

State of the Music Industry…

Depending on your perspective, the music industry is in fine health. 2023 saw a record year for sales (physical, digital and streaming), and touring artists are generating more income from ticket sales and merchandising than the GDPs of many countries. Even vinyl records, CDs and cassettes are achieving better sales than in recent years!

On the other hand, only a small number of musicians are making huge bucks from touring; while smaller venues are closing down, meaning fewer opportunities for artists to perform.

And despite the growth in streaming, relatively few musicians are minting it from these subscription-based services, that typically pay very little in royalties to the vast majority of artists. (In fact, some content can be zero-rated unless it achieves a minimum number of plays.)

Aside from the impact of streaming services, there are two other related challenges that exercise the music industry: the growing use of Artificial Intelligence, and the need for musicians to be recognised and compensated more fairly for their work and their Intellectual Property.

With AI, a key issue is whether the software developers are being sufficiently transparent about the content sources used to train their models, and whether the authors and rights owners are being fairly recompensed in return for the use of their IP. Then there are questions of artistic “creativity”, authorial ownership, authenticity, fakes and passing-off when we are presented with AI-generated music. Generative music software has been around for some time, and anyone with a smart phone or laptop can access millions of tools and samples to compose, assemble and record their own music – and many people do just that, given the thousands of new songs that are being uploaded every day. Now, with the likes of Suno, it’s possible to “create” a 2-minute song (complete with lyrics) from just a short text prompt. Rolling Stone magazine recently did just that, and the result was both astonishing and dispiriting.

I played around with Suno myself (using the free version), and the brief prompt I submitted returned these two tracks, called “Midnight Shadows”:

Version 1

Version 2

The output is OK, not terrible, but displays very little in the way of compositional depth, melodic development, or harmonic structure. Both tracks sound as if a set of ready-made loops and samples had simply been cobbled together in the same key and tempo, and left to run for 2 minutes. Suno also generated two quite different compositions with lyrics, voiced by a male and a female singer/bot respectively. The lyrics were nonsensical attempts to verbally riff on the text prompt. The vocals sounded both disembodied (synthetic, auto-tuned and one-dimensional), and also exactly the sort of vocal stylings favoured by so many contemporary pop singers, and featured on karaoke talent shows like The Voice and Idol. As for Suno’s attempt to remix the tracks at my further prompting, the less said the better.

While content attribution can be addressed through IP rights and commercial licensing, the issue of “likeness” is harder to enforce. Artists can usually protect their image (and merchandising) against passing off, but can they protect the tone and timbre of their voice? A new law in Tennessee attempts to do just that, by protecting a singer’s a vocal likeness from unauthorised use. (I’m curious to know if this protection is going to be extended to Jimmy Page’s guitar sound and playing style, or an electronic musician’s computer processing and programming techniques?)

I follow a number of industry commentators who, very broadly speaking, represent the positive (Rob Abelow), negative (Damon Krukowski) and neutral (Shawn Reynaldo) stances on streaming, AI and musicians’ livelihood. For every positive opportunity that new technology presents, there is an equal (and sometimes greater) threat or challenge that musicians face. I was particularly struck by Shawn Reynaldo’s recent article on Rolling Stone’s Suno piece, entitled “A Music Industry That Doesn’t Sell Music”. The dystopian vision he presents is millions of consumers spending $10 a month to access music AI tools, so they can “create” and upload their content to streaming services, in the hope of covering their subscription fees….. Sounds ghastly, if you ask me.

Add to the mix the demise of music publications (for which AI and streaming are also to blame…), and it’s easy to see how the landscape for discovering, exploring and engaging with music has become highly concentrated via streaming platforms and their recommender engines (plus marketing budgets spent on behalf of major artists). In the 1970s and 1980s, I would hear about new music from the radio (John Peel), TV (OGWT, The Tube, Revolver, So It Goes, Something Else), the print weeklies (NME, Sounds, Melody Maker), as well as word of mouth from friends, and by going to see live music and turning up early enough to watch the support acts. Now, most of my music information comes from the few remaining print magazines such as Mojo and Uncut (which largely focus on legacy acts), The Wire (but probably too esoteric for its own good), and Electronic Sound (mainly because that’s the genre that most interests me); plus Bandcamp, BBC Radio 6’s “Freak Zone”, Twitter, and newsletters from artists, labels and retailers. The overall consequence of streaming and up/downloading is that there is too much music to listen to (but how much of it is worth the effort?), and multiple invitations to “follow”, “like”, “subscribe” and “sign up” for direct content (but again, how much of it is worth the effort?). For better or worse, the music media at least provided an editorial filter to help address quality vs quantity (even if much of it ended up being quite tribal).

In the past, the music industry operated as a network of vertically integrated businesses: they sourced the musical talent, they managed the recording, manufacturing and distribution of the content (including the hardware on which to play it), and they ran publishing and licensing divisions. When done well, this meant careful curation, the exercise of quality control, and a willingness to invest in nurturing new artists for several albums and for the duration of their career. But at times, record companies have self-sabotaged, by engaging in format wars (e.g., over CD, DCC and MiniDisc standards), by denying the existence of on-line and streaming platforms (until Apple and Spotify came along), and by becoming so bloated that by the mid-1980s, the major labels had to merge and consolidate to survive – largely because they almost abandoned the sustainable development of new talent. They also ignored their lucrative back catalogues, until specialist and independent labels and curators showed them how to do it properly. Now, they risk overloading the reissue market, because they lack proper curation and quality control.

The music industry really only does three things:

1) A&R (sourcing and developing new talent)

2) Marketing (promotion, media and public relations)

3) Distribution & Licensing (commercialisation).

Now, #1 and #2 have largely been outsourced to social media platforms (and inevitably, to AI and recommender algorithms), and #3 is going to be outsourced to web3 (micro-payments for streaming subscriptions, distribution of NFTs, and licensing via smart contracts). Whether we like it or not, and taking their lead from Apple and Spotify, the music businesses of the future will increasingly resemble tech companies. The problem is, tech rarely understands content from the perspective of aesthetics – so expect to hear increasingly bland AI-generated music from avatars and bots that only exist in the metaverse.

Meanwhile, I go to as many live gigs as I can justify, and brace my wallet for the next edition of Record Store Day later this month…

Next week: Reclaim The Night

 

 

 

Defunct apps and tech projects

In the early days of this blog, I featured many new tech projects and start-ups that I came across by attending pitch nights and meet-ups in Melbourne. I also signed up to beta test numerous apps, and I contributed to quite a few crowd-funding exercises. In doing some research for a recent blog on music streaming, I realised that many of these ventures are no longer with us.

Here’s a random selection of projects and products that I either used, subscribed to, funded, or covered in my blog:

1. Klout – launched in 2008, this app used data from social media profiles to create individual “Klout Scores”, designed to calculate how “influential” your content was. Nice idea, but there was probably no money in the business model, because as far as I can recall, it was a free service. It was purchased in 2014 for $200m by the company that eventually became Khoros, who then closed Klout in 2018, as it was not seen as core business. Khoros itself is a customer engagement, social media and content management solution for corporate clients and consumer brands – obviously, there is more money to be made from capitalising on customer behaviour…

2. Do.com – founded in 2014 as a productivity tool, focused on making meetings more efficient. Acquired by Amazon Web Services (amount undisclosed) and folded into its Chime web-meeting and conferencing application. From my personal experience, the only company using Chime for external-facing calls is Amazon itself, but perhaps it’s more of a white label solution, or it’s mainly used by internal teams to communicate among themselves (especially if these teams are using AWS?).

3. Paper.li – launched in 2010, and grew to 2 million users within 6 months, this was a neat product that enabled users to curate their own “newspapers” from Twitter and other online content. Closed in April 2023 – probably too much noise and competition in this space, and too hard to monetise?

4. Pandora – one of the earliest internet radio and music streaming services, Pandora launched in 2000 – and as recently as 2019, had a market valuation of US$3.5bn, based on a stock acquisition by SiriusXM. But by 2017, Pandora had already decided to exit the Australian market, so I have no idea about the current content or service quality.

5. Twitter Music – as featured in my previous blog, this “service” was launched in 2013, and closed within a year. But watch this space – since re-branding his new toy as “X”, not only has Elon Musk taken back the @X handle from a Twitter user, he’s also just claimed @Music from another customer.

6. 8tracks – another early-ish player in the internet radio and music streaming service (launched in 2008), 8tracks is primarily a social media app that allows users to share their favourite playlists. Despite industry accolades, and various integrations with Android, Windows and Soundcloud, 8tracks ran into problems, including a copyright and licensing issue which meant it could no longer stream music outside of the US and Canada (instead, having to rely on content from YouTube). In 2019, the company announced it was shutting down. Then, in early 2020, the brand was relaunched under new ownership, but is only available in the USA.

7. Sensel Morph – this tech business began life as a Kickstarter project in 2015. The product was a touch-sensitive computer interface that allowed users to run various applications, such as graphic design, video editing, gaming, digital audio workstations, MIDI devices and coding (e.g., for Arduino and Raspberry Pi). Despite a successful funding campaign, the Morph devices did not start delivering until 2017 – and some of the promised features never appeared, or were scaled back (or support was dropped soon after development). In early 2022, Sensel announced it was discontinuing support for Morph – instead, the company is focused on providing touch-sensitive and pressure pad technology to third party developers and OEMs. I can’t help feeling that the Kickstarter campaign was really a way for Sensel to fund its early R&D (especially given the 2-year time line to deliver the first physical devices).

8. Swatchmate – a Melbourne-based startup, this optical device for scanning colours, surfaces and patterns had a big future when it launched in 2011. Aimed at designers, illustrators, printers, textile manufacturers and paint companies, initially, there appeared to be significant interest from major brands. Yet, within a few years, and following a name-change to Palette, the product (and the company behind it) have disappeared – although the device can in theory be ordered online. I suspect that as mobile phones’ own optical quality has improved (along with AI-trained apps to handle colour-matching), the standalone Swatchmate cube was doomed to failure.

9. Broadcastr – this was an interesting angle on audio content creation and curation. It was designed to bring location-based stories, travelogues and events to remote audiences and visitors via streaming. It only ran for 2 years (2011-13), and simply ran out of money, in the face of Soundcloud and the emerging podcast industry.

10. iTunes Ping – a cross between a social media platform and a playlist sharing app, this was Apple’s attempt to help fans discover/recommend new music, and for artists to engage with their fans. Launched in 2010, it survived for 2 years, before Apple decided to integrate iTunes within Facebook and Twitter…

11. MySpace – despite reaching its 20th birthday earlier this month, and after much hype and a one-time over-inflated price tag, MySpace has failed to deliver on so many counts. It’s a wonder how it has survived, although I’m not sure how “active” this former darling of social media actually is. Scrolling through it’s clunky UI, it’s easy to get the impression MySpace is nothing more than a digital scrapbook of a by-gone era, forever preserved in virtual aspic (and slowly decaying for lack of attention or maintenance). Nothing works on this platform, so it was interesting to see a recent fan message on Justin Timberlake’s page: “1.Get off TikTok. 2.Fix MySpace. 3.Launch App.”

12. Friends Reunited – finally, the OG of SoMe, which launched in 2000 (4 years before Facebook, 6 years before Twitter, 3 years before LinkedIn, 10 years before Instagram…). Designed to help people re-connect with their schoolmates, work colleagues, college friends and other community groups, it was actually more of a research resource, and ended up like a huge directory of your past associations. Gave up the ghost in 2016, just as TikTok was unleashed on the world (although I’m sure that was purely a coincidence).

Next week: Ballarat International Foto Biennale (BIFB)

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?