Derek Sivers is one of my favorite characters in the music industry. For those unfamiliar, he founded CD Baby - one of the most successful websites ever developed for independent musicians to sell their products. Not long ago, he sold the wildly successful CD Baby to DiscMakers and donated the majority of the selling price to a music education charity. He currently dedicates his time to a myriad of projects, one of which is an insightful blog meant to share ideas that help musicians and music appreciators. His writing is concise; all of the posts are of a strictly limited length. The following link is to a beautiful story that showed up on Sivers' blog (initially written by Pulitzer Prize winning Jerome Weidman). The title: "The Night I Met Einstein."
Last week, Damien Kulash of "OK Go" wrote an insightful Op-ed for the New York Times about the British record label EMI's restrictions on the streaming of music videos. Here is a synopsis:
Kulash began by citing OK Go's 2006 video entitled "Here It Goes Again" that the group self-produced and posted on YouTube (devoid from their contract). At the time, EMI saw the video as free advertising and had no reason to argue with it (especially after the video accumulated tens of millions of views). However, this occurred at the time record companies were diving inadvertently into their infamous tailspin. From floundering record sales came a demand to be paid for each stream of their material on YouTube. They were on a short-sighted track to find sources of revenue without regarding long term business. Unfortunately, a crucial fact of the deal that EMI (and other record companies) agreed to was that they may only be paid for streams that take place on YouTube's own site. Not on the band's website. Not on anyone else's web site. As a result of this exclusivity, the material can not be spread and enjoyed on a scale even remotely as large as it used to be.
When this deal went into effect, views of the OK Go video immediately dropped 90%, from 10,000 per day to 1,000. Their royalty statement from six months of streaming came to a mere $27.77. News reports claim that the labels receive between $.004 and $.008 per stream from YouTube. "So the most EMI could have grossed for the streams in question is a little over $5,400" Kulash explained. Hardly an ideal outcome for both parties after the initially successful propagation of the video helped increase OK Go's fan base and make a profit for EMI.
It is decisions like these that will truly lead the majors into extinction.
View the full text here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/20/opinion/20kulash.html?scp=1&sq=damien%20kulash&st=cse
It is my contention that inasmuch as one visits a social networking website, productivity and learning are diminished proportionately. Many online sources of entertainment seem to grow exponentially more wasteful after each visit. Thus I would like to share with you a source in which the opposite effect occurs:
Founded under the umbrella of the French website La Blogotheque, The Takeaway Shows (Les Concerts à Emporter) were developed by Vincent Moon and Chryde. Their idea is to present music videos in a refreshingly unpolished light. More specifically, they invite bands each week to perform candidly somewhere on the streets of France (most often Montmartre, Paris). With handheld cameras continuously rolling and audio fresh from the scene, the results are transporting. Placing the emphasis on the 'moment of creation' rather than the moment 'as approved by each of 7 producers, the record company executive, the executive's executive, etc,' they summarize their worldview in one sentence: "Spontaneity is the keyword." Fortunately, Chryde and Moon's guest list has included artists such as Phoenix (http://www.blogotheque.net/Phoenix,5179), Bon Iver (http://www.blogotheque.net/Bon-Iver,4255), and Andrew Bird (http://www.blogotheque.net/Andrew-Bird,2976).
A related side note: Producer Don Was has taken a remarkably similar path with his work on My Damn Channel. For example: http://www.mydamnchannel.com/Don_Was/Favorites/BuddyMillerSoNewTheresStillNoTitle_2469.aspx
The Berklee Performance Center was teeming with high school drummers. Sticks in hand and ubiquitous lanyards in tow, they flooded the hall to attend a special performance held on Wednesday evening as part of the annual Berklee Percussion Festival. In addition to usual chatter, the pattering of drum sticks on knees could be heard everywhere. The young man seated in front of me took his mobile exercises a step further by practicing incessant rhythms with his feet (to simulate the pedals in a drum kit), creating the appearance from behind that he had been placed in an overactive massage chair. Fortunately, the restless youths ceased all fidgeting the moment Dafnis Prieto appeared on stage.
Drummers are not often bandleaders. Maybe it is the responsibility. Maybe it is because they have to look presentable. Regardless, Prieto is a damn successful one. The New York Times has compared his 1999 arrival from Cuba to the “landing of an asteroid.” His unique command over the drum set has unequivocally placed him among the living elite (frightening given his age of 34). He’s not a bad businessman either, announcing at the end of the set that he didn’t remember which songs were on which CD’s, so we might as well buy them all. In September, he will release a record (under his own Dafnison label) performed by his current touring band, Si o SiQuartet. The quartet is comprised of Manual Valera on piano, Charles Flores on bass, and Peter Apfelbaum on saxophone (percussionist Pedro Martinez appeared instead of Apfelbaum at the BPC).
As expected, there were a few open drum solos woven into Wednesday evening’s performance. However, the set was not entirely void of harmonic instruments. Prieto’s fiery and mostly odd-metered Latin jazz compositions showcased each band member adequately. Regular quartet member Manual Valera was brilliant on the piano. His poise and technique were frustratingly fluid. While he seemed able to make nearly anything happen on the keys, he showed remarkable restraint when called for. Subsequently, when it was time to explode with notes, he did just that.
Adjacent to Valera was upright bassist Charles Flores. Flores does not play the bass; he caresses it. Visibly in love with music, it was not a surprise that soulful playing ensued. The communication between drums and bass was unerring, partially thanks to the fact that the two Cuban musicians have previously toured together as part of Michel Camilo’s trio. Flores appeared slightly less settled in Prieto’s intrepid quartet than with the more traditional Camilo, but his playing was inspiring and solid nonetheless. Rounding out the group was guest was percussionist Pedro Martinez. He did not lack confidence - musically or otherwise. His authority over the congas made them look like wobbly bowling pins, and his flashy pair of sunglasses remained on throughout the set. This personality was not just visible, but an exciting addition to the music as well.
Practically every note of the concert was executed with hilarious precision and musicality. Prieto often wore a sly and incomprehensibly calm smile as he exercised monarchical power over the drums, with his four (or perhaps six) limbs blazing beneath. Pianist Kenny Werner’s book “Effortless Mastery” comes to mind. Periodically, just as the stage appeared to be overflowing with layers of syncopation, Prieto’s expression would harden abruptly as he executed fierce unison stop time with the rest of the band. Such phrases were prone to flabbergasted admiration in the form of shouts and groans, rather than the conventional head bobbing.
Highlights included the moments in which it was possible to take breaths. For example, the set opened with a few of the most relaxing seconds of the night. Prieto used mallets to create spacious and ethereal single-stroke rolls around the drum set, swelling freely and musically without a designated pulse. Also, a tune written in the traditional Cuban danzón style entitled “Until The Last Minute” (dedicated to the late percussionist Miguel Angá Diaz), was a gem. It was performed at a distinctly slower tempo than the rest of the songs, and breathed with an infectious groove.
After eight epic pieces of music, ears were sufficiently numb. The crowd was left winded in amazement, looking to go home and listen to something droning, triadic, and preferably in 4/4. Is there such a thing as being too good?
“I want your babies!” yelled an adoring fan toward Ann Driscoll and her eponymous band as they paused between songs at TT the Bear’s on Monday evening. The cozy layout of the venue ensured that this comment was not lost on Ms. Driscoll. After having recently inserted a plug for Mrs. Danvers, her “all-women queer band,” she slyly replied: “Artificial insemination my friend.”
The charm of this Beatles-influenced Indie rocker did not lie in a sweet or predictably melodic voice, but rather in her quirky songwriting and passionate on-stage presence. Her compositions have danceable and sometimes unconventional grooves, from disco funk to eerie circus waltzes. She is unafraid of drastically altering the timbre of her voice to fit the contour of the songs, such as a rough edged (bordering on satirically operatic) melody line in the chorus of “I Wanna Be Your Zombie.” She sings unabashedly about topics such as why “Jesus Don’t Like Beggars” and also with uninhibited ferocity in the angst filled “Make Up Your Fucking Mind.” Her appeal is noticeably disparate from the mainstream, but inevitable.
On Monday, she was backed by a solid rhythm section comprised of Zac Taylor on guitar, Alex Swift on bass, and Jon Schmidt on drums. Also joining her was the sweet sounding background vocal duo of Keeley Bumford (who appeared earlier in the evening with Black Kettle) and Emily Goldstein. The final (and guest) accompanist was Nikki Mariskanish on clarinet. The tonal quality of this instrument seemed at first to be an unlikely match for such electric music, but proved to be a pleasant texture. Some of the bands’ most exciting moments came when they appeared to forget about the audience and turn inward toward each other. These euphoric instances of communication elicited head banging that made the $9 cover easily worthwhile.
Charles Van Kirk is a student of Production / Engineering and drum set at the Berklee College of Music. "Charles Reviews" is his composite of music reviewing and reporting on current events in the industry. Comments are welcome.
