The Tech in My Life #4: Reel-to-Reel Tape Deck 

When I was a kid, my family had a late 1950s/early 1960s Grundig reel-to-reel portable tape deck. I don’t really know why my father bought it, because the only home recordings I can recall were of my siblings and I playing the recorder (badly), and an attempt to tape an episode of Top of The Pops on BBC TV.

Although simple in design, it was actually quite cumbersome to use. The motor and the electronics generated significant machine hum which leaked on to the audio. It was mono, but offered 4 tracks – 2 in each direction – and in theory, it could record overdubs and play both signals back together, if only you could sync the play and record heads. Years later, I used it as a guitar amp, but I could only hear this auxiliary signal if the deck was in “play” or “record” mode – so I would have it on “pause” all the time, which tended to stretch and tear any tape.

Nevertheless, it sparked my life-long interest in tape, which took off when I eventually acquired my own tape deck in the early 1970s. The humble “compact cassette tape”, when combined with a portable record and playback machine, was the way many young people got into making their own music. Not only did these machines often include a built-in radio (vital for recording John Peel sessions on BBC radio 1), they also enabled live overdubbing (and cassette duplicating with twin-deck tape-to-tape functionality). I had a portable cassette player in the early 1980s that had a built-in stereo microphone as well as proper audio inputs for external sources such as guitars, keyboards, microphones and record players. So it was possible to not just make mixtapes but also make your own home recordings, which could sound pretty decent. I even played around with tape loops, and splicing cassettes, but in a pretty amateurish way. A friend had a Tascam 4-track Cassette Portastudio, in the mid-80s, on which I made some demos of my own music.

Cassettes were a way to produce and circulate music cheaply, and there was a cottage industry of bands and labels distributing albums on cassette, via mail order, using small ads in the weekly music papers. (I own an original copy of one such self-released cassette from 1981, which last sold on-line for over US$180.) Less scrupulously, you could go to somewhere like Camden Market on the weekend and buy a tape of a gig you’d been to just a few nights before.

But, with the arrival of read/write CDs, Digital Audio Tape, MiniDiscs and Digital Compact Cassette, the analogue compact cassette fell out of favour in the late 1980s and early 1990s. And then the music industry decided to discontinue most of these newer formats, because of the increased risk of piracy and bootleg recordings.

Yet, the compact cassette still survives today, alongside a renewed interest in tape loops, and the early pioneers of electronic music and musique concrète. New albums and reissues are being released on cassette, and for a number of years there was Cassette Store Day as a sort of adjunct to its bigger vinyl sibling. Stock of new blank cassettes can still be found for sale on-line, and the format has outlived some of those digital successors that suffer from a lack of suitable playback equipment, or software/hardware compatibilities in the digital age.

Even today, in my current music recording setup of MIDI controllers, computers and software like Ableton Live, I use digital plugins based on tape decks, to emulate tape itself, or to replicate early looping effects, or simply to apply some “analogue” limitations to my work.

Next week #5: Home Electronics Kits

 

Charting Australian Music

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

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

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