Tag Archives: #music retailing

Charting Australian Music

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Following on from last week’s blog, and a related post, I was intrigued by a recent headline in The Guardian, which implied “Australian music” (whatever that means…) is facing extinction. Perhaps The Guardian is looking in the wrong place, or is too fixated on the ARIA chart data to get the full picture.

First, I think the local music scene is doing OK, as evidenced by the latest Independent Music Exchange in Melbourne. Sure, this may not be the music getting into the charts, or even getting radio airplay, but it’s obviously music that people want to hear, judging by the number of participating labels and punters turning up. Alongside this independent industry is a solid live circuit, and better distribution thanks to companies like Sound Merch, and the network of independent records stores.

Second, let’s assume that “Australian music” means music written, recorded and released by Australian artists and artists based in Australia. I could suggest that one reason “Australian” music does not feature in the charts is because Australian artists aren’t releasing music the general public wants to hear. Or as I have mentioned before, maybe the charts are the wrong measure of success. But another reason might be a case of cultural cringe.

For example, back in the 1980s, when I was living in London, there was a constant stream of Australian bands who always seemed to be touring the UK. I’m referring to artists like Nick Cave, The Go-Betweens, The Triffids, The Moodists, The Apartments, Ed Kuepper and The Underground Lovers. These bands seemed to have more of a following overseas than back home. It’s the challenge of Australia having a small domestic market, so that bands had to explore overseas opportunities. But I also suspect that their particular music was not widely appreciated at home – where pub rock was more in favour. (I recall going to house parties in Kangaroo Valley aka Earl’s Court, in London’s inner west, where the only music blasting out on the stereo was AC/DC, Cold Chisel and The Angels – requesting Nick Cave or The Triffids would probably cause offence!)

Finally, to show that I’m not living in an ’80s time-warp, here are just a few of the current and active Australian bands I have enjoyed seeing in Melbourne over recent months: Mildlife, Black Cab, Essendon Airport, All India Radio, Oren Ambarchi, Mick Harvey, Karate Boogaloo, The Laughing Clowns, The Underground Lovers, User, Scattered Order and Tongue Dissolver. And they continue to release new music – just don’t expect to hear it on local radio or see it in the local charts!

Next week: Accidental Album

 

Measuring musical success

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How do we measure musical success? In an age of streaming algorithms, with songs created by AI, and “liked” by social media bots, what are the key measures by which songs or pop stars could be deemed a commercial, critical or artistic success?

The music charts are only an indication of popularity, based on a weighted combination of physical sales, downloads, streaming and radio airplay. Sales of CDs, vinyl and downloads are relatively easy to track. But streaming numbers, which account for the majority of industry revenues, have to be adjusted to discount things like free user accounts and older hits, in order to keep the charts “fresh” and “authentic”.

The problem with streaming is that it can give a distorted measure of success. Back when recorded music was only available in physical formats, buying a copy of a record meant that you didn’t own the music, but you owned an artefact that was yours to keep and play forever. That purchase counted as just one unit for the purposes of chart calculations – but you could play it hundreds and thousands of times in the privacy of your own home, yet it wouldn’t make the record any more “popular”. Contrast that with streaming platforms, where you don’t “buy” a specific song, you pay a monthly subscription; and in theory you can simply play the same song on repeat – and that form of consumption now dominates the charts. The potential to manipulate streaming algorithms in favour of particular tracks is no different to the chart rigging practices of the era of pluggers and payola.

Of course, most musicians don’t make money from record sales (or even from streaming royalties). Live gigs and merchandising account for a larger share of their overall revenue. Which is why some pop stars can generate significant GDP when they go on tour. But rather like the charts, ticket sales are only a measure of financial success, not of artistic quality or critical acclaim. Frankly, I have no interest in whether or not a pop star has achieved the highest grossing tour of all time – does the music sound any good?

The pop industry is a bit like the fast fashion industry. It requires a high turnover of new stars and new content. Given that maybe fewer than 10% of artists or records make a profit, the major record labels have to keep updating their front list catalogue with new releases. Most pop stars have a relatively short recording career – so unless they can move into song writing, music production, artist management etc. they have an ever-decreasing shelf life.

On the other hand, longevity is now something of a benchmark for musical success. With a certain bunch of octogenarians about to release their 25th studio album, no doubt some lifetime achievement awards are in the offing. But you can be pretty certain that the new record won’t carry any major surprises – it’s not like they’re about to release an album of nose flute music or three hour drone works.

Speaking of awards, the bloated industry event that is the Grammys now has 96 different categories. Some of the “genre-specific” awards feel like they have been conjured up to make sure everyone gets a turn on the podium. (Although there’s still no prize for “Best Nose Flute Recording of The Year”)

Do critics’ reviews matter or make a difference? Musical appreciation is highly subjective, and even the best-known and well-regarded critics can disagree about the merits of the same album. As a teenager, having to rely on the UK’s weekly music papers for information, it was common to gravitate towards certain reviewers – so if they gave a new album 5/5, it was probably worth checking out. Whereas, if a critic whose tastes were not to mine gave it a 5/5 review, it was probably one to avoid. In a way reflecting the Grammys, music publications increasingly cater for a particular genre or style of music, so the reviewers are preaching to the converted. In a highly fragmented music market, with silos full of homogenous content, the role of critic and reviewer is increasingly one of curation. “If you only buy one melodic rap album this year, then make it’s this one”.

A swathe of TV talent shows have been responsible for creating a bunch of (mostly) short-lived pop stars. In an effort to “give the public what the public wants”, the tactic of casting your vote for/against individual singers is supposed to ensure that “success” reflects popular taste. But, with a very narrow range of musical genres represented, and an even smaller number of songs included in their Karaoke-style repertoire, these shows are not well-suited to identify sustainable creative talent.

From a financial perspective, most major labels rely on their evergreen back catalogue. Partly to ensure certain recordings remain in copyright, but mainly to recover their past investment, reissues, supported by critical re-appraisals and careful curation, can yield strong returns on the balance sheet. An artist’s 100th birthday, the anniversary of a seminal album, or an old song’s inclusion in a box office hit or a popular TV series, are all valuable triggers for retrospective release campaigns.

Success is relative and it depends on your personal perspective. A friend of mine has been in the music industry since he was a teenager. He started out playing in local bands, then moved into music production, set up his own studio, and served as a “gun for hire” to various bands for live work and studio sessions. All along, he has been releasing records as a member of different groups, or as a solo artist (under his own name and various noms de musique). None of these records has been commercially successful, and all of them have been released on small independent labels. But for the past few years, he has single-handedly (and single-mindedly) forged a “new” name for himself, recording and releasing his own music which is meeting with critical acclaim and steady sales. He’s not exactly filling stadiums, nor is he about to top the singles charts but he has achieved a level of personal and artistic success, that reflects the pursuit of a 45 year career path on his own terms. Now that’s what I call success!

Next week: Charting Australian Music

 

Music, music everywhere…. and none of it very memorable

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This past weekend I experienced a couple of musical events that were poles apart, but which also underlined how so much contemporary music is totally forgettable, due to both ubiquity and overabundance.

The first event was the Independent Music Exchange held in Melbourne. Here, a collection of small independent labels, distributors and retailers came together to promote their current catalogues. Most of the music was on vinyl, but there were also CDs and lots of cassettes. (Melbourne is allegedly the vinyl capital of the world…) Releases on sale included new product, plus swathes of back catalogue and archival reissues – some of which have only become well-known long after their initial release, or are only available again thanks to these independent companies because the original labels (often one of the big global players) have chosen not to keep them in print. I can’t pretend to have been very familiar with many of the items on display; but it was nevertheless gratifying to see the range and diversity, and to know that there is an audience for these types of music (judging by the number of punters attending the event), which is largely overlooked by broadcast radio and major streaming platforms.

The second event was an evening of Karaoke with friends, which largely featured music from the 80s and 90s (reflecting the age group), but which also included a reasonable selection of more recent tracks. I have to admit that any of the latter that I did recognise were songs I have heard as background music in public places, rather than as a conscious decision to listen to them. I’m also woefully ignorant of most of the artists behind these latest songs, and if they have reached my consciousness it’s probably as a result of a news story or social media campaign. Admittedly, I’m probably not the target audience for most of this newer music, so my ignorance can be forgiven!

The latest IFPI annual report reveals that nearly 70% of global music revenue comes from streaming platforms, around 17% from physical sales (of which vinyl is increasingly taking a bigger share), and just 3% from downloads and other digital formats. The remaining 10% is derived from performance rights and associated syndication licensing.

If streaming platforms have done one thing well, it is to help create an over abundance of “new” music. This is because they have reduced the costs of distribution, and in many cases, this new music is being self-released and directly uploaded by the artists themselves, rather than via record labels or music publishers. This applies to both the big brands like Spotify, Apple, Amazon, YouTube and Pandora, as well as the smaller players like Bandcamp and SoundCloud. However, easier and cheaper distribution has not reduced the costs of marketing and promotion; and thanks to certain algorithms, a lot of new music is being created just to get “discovered” via streaming and social media, based on listeners’ habits and/or preferences. There is also a debate about whether AI-generated music, artists or promotion should be allowed to co-exist on these streaming platforms; and if so, should they come with associated disclosures so listeners can choose to block AI-content? In some ways, it’s rather like the Enhanced Games competing with the Olympics, or consumers preferring to exclude GMO crops from the food chain – the boundaries are blurred, and once the content is in the system, everything else becomes tainted or infected.

I recently read a blog by an independent recording artist and curator who was bemoaning the current state of the music industry – specifically, the noise and hype around so much current music – the main conclusion being that thanks to the algorithms and the repetition, it was dulling his appetite to engage with new music. I can certainly empathise with this perspective – often, the announcement of this or that new album or a “sneak peak” (i.e., co-ordinated leak) of a carefully stage-managed artist collaboration is more significant than the music itself. It feels like the amount of promotion thrown at a song or a music video is in inverse proportion to the quality of the release.

The ubiquity of highly homogenised popular music is down to three main factors:

  1. The tech (streaming, AI, algorithms)
  2. Record labels (guilty of pushing “fast fashion”-type music)
  3. TV talent shows (Eurovision, X-factor, The Voice, Pop Idol) that push a very narrow agenda, and are guilty of form over substance

BUT at the end of the day, I can’t help also thinking that the public gets what the public wants (to quote Paul Weller): “You are what you listen to”. So choosing to engage with this type of content only perpetuates its creation and existence – and “helped” by this ubiquity and overabundance, most of this new music is ultimately disposable and totally forgettable.

Next week: My night with the Sex Pistols

State of the Music Industry…

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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