My Music Industry Rant

It feels weird to rant about something and not type the words “Romo” or “Wade” or “football failures” anywhere in the post. But here goes.

I promised a rant about the music industry and a rant you shall receive. Let me give this disclaimer: I was a total nerd in junior high and high school. I didn’t go to parties. I didn’t drink. I didn’t sit in parked cars with boys. I didn’t go to prom. What I did do was obsessively collect old vinyl records and read any and every rock biography I could get my chubby little teenaged fingers onto. And I have never regretted it. Whereas some kids may have read Choose Your Own Adventure books or escaped into a world of comics, I reveled in this fantasy land called “Rock and Roll 1953-1983” where teenagers rioted and screamed over pelvis thrusts and increasingly risqué rhythms and lyrics. I giggled at the idea of being witness to Zepplin at the Riot House on Sunset living out some 1970’s Satyricon scene. I sighed at how great it must have been to be on the Stones charter jet and to take part in their party in the sky like I saw in Cocksucker Blues. I got teary when reading about musicians buying their poor parents houses and luxury cars with their royalty checks and record sales money as atonement for not growing up to be doctors or lawyers.

My friend Chad and I had a discussion a week ago about how sad it was to us that we are the last generation to know the feeling of doing things like going to a midnight record release party or the sacrifice of spending obscene amounts of money on import singles just to get those two extra songs. It’s weird to think that kids aren’t driving out to RPM Records in Mesquite to rent grainy PAL to VHS compilations of Top of the Pops performances or Slade in Flames or Born to Boogie. It’s ultimately way less of a pain in the ass to be able to type the words “Ladies and Gentlemen….the Fabulous Stains torrent” into Google than hunt it down just to see the only footage of The Professionals. I get very old timer about it and try to act like the kids just don’t appreciate it as much and don’t get as much satisfaction from finally getting to hear that record if all they have to do is wait for BitTorrent to let them know their download is ready. But it’s just an act. I know that any old videos or back catalogs of most of what I would possibly want to see or hear is available to me 24/7 and I can’t pretend that I don’t love it. While the memories of trips across the metroplex to hunt down a single are priceless, 18 year old Amanda sure could have used all that money back then. I probably would not have the intricate knowledge I have of how long you have between when the constable shows up to put a note on your door and when you are actually evicted but that’s not knowledge I have much use for any longer.

So let’s take the nostalgia and all the touchy-feely out of the discussion. It’s hard to party like it’s 1999 when all your record label friends are holding onto their jobs by their brittle, broken fingernails. I will freely admit to suckling from the engorged teat of the bloated music industry as a music journalist. But there was a nagging feeling that the jig was gonna be up soon amongst almost everyone other than the old timers who knew that they were close enough to retirement to not have to worry about where the industry was headed. My last job in the music industry, from which I resigned two months ago, was a crash course in the reality of what the music industry had become. People used to ask me what I did and I would take a deep breath and then kind of mutter that I was the Marketing Coordinator for a company that hosted and cross-promoted major label content through in-store and viral marketing. Then I stood there as they looked at me like a dog trying to watch Jeopardy on TV. What I told them was the corporate speak way to say that I tried to squeeze the last few drops of money out of the drained corpse of the major record labels. Anyone who holds music on a pedestal as an art which should never be tainted by the filthy hands of the corporate world would have wept if they saw what my usual day at work entailed. Mind you, I am not one of those people and came to realize that music shouldn’t be taken so seriously and that sometimes a band will write a song that is catchy enough to use to sell some sneakers to some kids. But the world of 360 music deals (if you aren’t familiar with this concept, google “Madonna Live Nation” or “U2 Live Nation” or “Jay-Z Live Nation” or really just “Live Nation”) is a realm that very very few musicians will ever into. I wonder if aspiring musicians realize this. Record sales and download sales don’t really pay for your mom’s customized Rolls any longer. The good news is that unless you were selling 5 million copies of your album, bands were never really earning much if anything from sales. It’s always been about touring for smaller bands. There’s some anecdotal evidence, courtesy of Chromeo of this tidal change being a good thing for smaller, independent bands.

But I just feel like someone should set all those kids down who might be like I was when I was a teenager and have some real talk with them about the state of the industry. I cringe when I hear young musicians talk about getting “signed” which now (and probably did back then too) means that they will just be giving away more control and money to a company who has only a marginally better ability to distribute their album and boost their music’s sales. Someone’s gotta tell them that even their heroes are parking the tour buses because of lack of money. While the allure of being in a band and the camaraderie and debauchery and ability to wear a lacy shirt or cravat under the protective umbrella of being an “artist” will never die, I just think a more honest vision of “making it” needs to be put forth. The internet is full of things I want to hear these days and can be mine free of charge and within a few minutes (I have a slow connection). And the world is full of people like me.

Free at Last, Free at Last

This March 18-22 will mark a very special milestone for me this year. It will be the first South by Southwest that I will not have to attend. I don’t mean that in an “I don’t have to work it so it’s going to be soooooooo much more fun!” kind of way. I mean, I will be as geographically far away from Austin as I can possibly be. The feeling I get when I think about the fact that I don’t have to attend SXSW this year is the same feeling Ativan-popping housewives get when Oprah points at them and tells them they’re getting a car. I have now worked in and around music and the music industry for a decade. My present to myself is that I don’t have to go to SXSW this year or any year in the near future.

First off, I am no big fan of Austin at any time. I will refrain from going into detail about my near-hatred for Austin out of respect for my Austin-dwelling friends. Let’s just say that it’s not my kind of town. At all. So when Austinites get all “Yeah but all people see during SXSW is downtown and Sixth Street. You gotta get away from the festival, maaaaaaaaaaaan. South Congress, brah! Dripping Springs. Let’s go tubing!” No. Thanks. But more to the point, I despise SXSW with every little capillary in my body. While all the cool kids are sauntering to Stubb’s to try to worm their way into a party, the blocked off streets create a Mad Max Battle to the Death between people who actually are working and might have to transport a vehicle or large item to a venue.

What really amazes me is how anyone would get anything other than five or more hangovers out of the whole thing? There’s a few different categories of people who attend SXSW and from what I can tell, few if any of them come away with anything worth all the hassle that is SXSW. There’s the music lovers. They’re the ones who are generally screwed over the hardest. They start with the absurd search for a wristband. Begging badge holding friends and strangers to hook them up. Trying to find a band willing to claim them as a roadie or manager. Paying Austin residents to stand in a line at Waterloo for you. I think SXSW has made it incredibly clear that they don’t want you flying into town and pumping your dirty music fan money into their totally-fine-on-its-own local economy, thanks. But even if you don’t have a badge or wristband, you can still see all the bands you wanted to see, right? Technically, yes. If you’re well-prepared with all your printed off party lists and maps and RSVP emails, you can delude yourself into thinking that you will see everyone you want to see. That is once you crawl over the piles of industry people talking loudly into their iPhones with their backs to the stage, yelling to their buddies about how they are seeing a HOT NEW ARTIST. Totally buzzworthy! You will also quickly realize that the fact that you are actually there to see a particular artist or to check out a few bands you have heard good things about makes you the weirdo. The parties are full of people there either to do business, network or have bragging rights about what “exclusive” parties they were able to get into.

And I can’t cast judgment on those people because, as I blogged about a few months ago, when music is something you HAVE to be around and you HAVE to write about or a show you HAVE to attend is when music goes from being pleasurable to being your TPS reports . I remember last year when someone asked me who the best band I saw at SXSW was, all I could muster enthusiasm for was the fact that I ran into friends from far-flung towns who I usually only see once a year at SXSW. It’s like a class reunion where you see label friends from New York and musician friends from London and tour managing friends from LA. So apologies to anyone who ever wanted to get into some party and see some band they really loved only to be stuck in line behind some asshole like me.

But that leads me to ask why in the world bands would attend this festival in hopes of “making it” or whatever it is they think will happen as a direct result of them playing either a SXSW official showcase or at a party. I know bands who have said that they were inspired to play there by tales of bands getting their big break at SXSW. Of course, what they don’t realize is that for every band who has a “getting discovered at SXSW” story (and I only know a handful of those stories that are even remotely true), there are 1.2 million other bands who spent a lot of money and time and got their hopes up only to be thrown onto a completely incongruous bill at a totally hidden “official” venue only to play a thirty minute set to the bartender and door guy at 7pm. Hope it was worth all the hassle, homes.

There are some reasons to go to SXSW. If you like to drink (and I do) you can score plenty of free drinks without a wristband or badge of any kind. Do you like gift bags full of sampler CDs? You’re in luck. Are you writing an article about the increasingly desperate tactics of guerilla marketing companies? Oh boy, you’re in the right place. If you want to end up spending a blurry night at an EconoSuites off the highway with a total stranger in your own icky American Apparel ad come to vivid life, make your way down to Austin post haste. Do you like waiting an hour for a burger at Casino el Camino? You see where this is going.

For those people that enjoy SXSW, I say “huzzah” and “godspeed” to you. You and I are two very different people. I am some sort of amalgam of Danny Glover and Walter Matthau and you are a spry and enthusiastic spring chicken. I could let this blog entry devolve into my rant about the rapid oncoming death of the music industry as it has existed for 50 years but I will save that for another day. Now if we can all just agree that all you bands going to play SXSW have paid money for applications, plane tickets, hotels, cabs, meals and tips only to come to a gathering of people that look like you from other cities and nothing more, we’re getting somewhere. And if you attendees will admit that there’s a certain “see and be seen” element to your attendance, we’re getting even further. And if you industry types would stop texting into your iPhones for two seconds and admit that you don’t give a shit about 99% of the bands you are going to see and that you should probably keep the receipt to that iPhone just in case your job is the next one to get the chop, we’re really starting to cook with oil.

Five Days Later

Alright, I think enough time has passed since the Dallas Cowboys played the most embarrassing football I have seen them play in my lifetime to blog about it. Because for the past week, all that the local media has done is ask “Why? How? Who? Really? Wade’s keeping his job? Really?” But I started thinking of it in terms like this: “Why should I support this team?” Now that’s a bit of a rhetorical question because regardless of their record or stomach-turning football apathy, they’re my team and I will follow them to the gates of football hell which they now appear to be attempting to scale. For anyone that lives here in Dallas, it’s just obvious. It’s the Cowboys. That’s why you love them. What are you gonna do? Spend your fall and winter reading up on the Rangers off-season antics or plans for sucking the life out of baseball in the coming year? Are you going to start supporting the Giants or the Dolphins or something? No. But think about what someone from, ohhhhhh say, Philadelphia thinks about you backing the ‘Boys? Other than geographic ease and peer pressure, how do you defend being a Cowboys supporter (or in this case, “apologist” is probably a more accurate term) to anyone outside of Dallas?

I don’t see this roster being much different, talent-wise, from your Aikman/Irvin/Emmitt/Moose/Novachek years. So that means that it’s coaching and player’s attitudes that are getting in the way of the Cowboys being successful. But no one will admit that. And that’s quite possibly the most frustrating part. The loss to the Eagles was the most embarrassing and disappointing moment in my Cowboys memory. More than Romo fumbling a snap on a field goal. More than going 1-15. At least when we went 1-15, we knew we didn’t have much of a team and didn’t have lofty expectations. I think Wade is definitely part of the problem. I think it’s pretty obvious that when your calls are overridden by your quarterback, you lack the confidence, power and respect necessary to be a head coach. Put it this way: when Wade gets the boot and decides to get himself a part time job at Barnes & Noble, he will not be a key holding manager and will have to call for his boss for approval if he has to do a return. I like Wade. I would eat honey buns and watch Perry Mason with him. I would turn the volume down on the TV gently after he nods off in his armchair after a big plate of cornbread and glass of buttermilk. But clearly, he cannot coach and must do the honorable thing and commit coaching seppuku as a gesture of contrition to all Cowboys fans. Which is to say, it’s time to retire.

But I don’t think that’s the big problem. The Cowboys need a head coach but it also seems they need a junior high guidance counselor to break up the slap fights and pry Cowboy’s players fingers out of each other’s ponytails. Seriously, I wanted a football team not an athletic tribute to High School Musical. I used to fall for the easy default of “It’s T.O.’s fault, he causes drama.” But that’s not the case:

Tony Romo :
I said I wasn’t going to make fun of you anymore because of all your Good Samaritan acts this year. And while I still appreciate the fact that you can find both romance with ho’s and bromance with hobos, you said something after the Philly game which allowed me to repeal the “No Picking on Romo” law. Your post-game shower collapse was certainly not brought on by your firey, impassioned and angry statements in the post-game press conference. In fact, if I hadn’t known which game the comments were about, I would have thought you were explaining some sloppy play in a pre-season game of flag football. Your comments were something along the lines of, “Well, we didn’t play good football so we lost but we’re gonna come back next year and play better football, I guess. And maybe get into the playoffs and win a Super Bowl. Or something, you know.” Meh. No biggie. Why everyone be actin’ so upset? I told you we played bad football and we didn’t win. And that next year we’re gonna, like, maybe try to play better football and maybe make it to the playoffs, I guess. What more do you want people? Dude, you obviously aren’t particularly bothered about the season ending early. Maybe a little more recoup time for the pinkie and back? Probably take Jessica down to Cabo for some glass bottom boat action. Sweet!

And why not? I mean all the other guys started partying already? In fact, the flight back to Dallas was apparently a lively one with music cranking, a good game of dominoes going on, high fives and revelry. It’s just a shame that you guys had to waste all that time packing and flying up to Philly and stuff when you could have just thrown a kegger on the practice field at Valley Ranch and totally saved yourselves the embarrassment of showing up and playing like you did.

Jason Witten:
No one can question Witten’s toughness and, like Romo, I’m pretty sure he’s a thoroughly nice and decent and well-mannered human being. But now he’s been dragged into the drama further after Terrance Newman made cryptic comments about a “coward” tearing this team apart. There seems to be a lot of people who think that he was referring to you, Jason Witten. Saying that you were the “unnamed player” who leaked the story about T.O. throwing a fit over not getting the ball and not being included in “secret” offensive meetings. I don’t think any of us will ever, or at least not in the near future, know if this is true or not. If it is true though, what was the point of it? To get rid of T.O.? Let me just pull you aside real quick and show you a timeline of T.O.’s career and his track record of team-playerness. The wonderful thing about T.O. is that he’s his own self-contained career IED. You don’t need to put any accelerant on that fire.

But that brings us to Terrance Newman:
You’re calling Witten out for being a coward and not owning what you believe are his anonymous comments about the situation. Right. So you do that buy not naming the anonymous person you are calling a “coward”, right? Why in the world do you think it’s appropriate to say something like that to the press? Do you think that makes your football team look like a) a football team trying to regroup and figure out what went wrong or b) PMS-ridden teen girls trying to influence the outcome of this year’s superlatives race? It’s like you guys found out how embarrassing it is to lose to the Eagles so spectacularly and got off on it and now you’re just trying to recreate that experience every day by doing things like making bitchy comments about teammates. STFU. Hard.

Jerry Jones:
You’re the owner of a restaurant that has slime in the icebox, serves expired meats and allows, nay, encourages cooks not to wash their hands. Your organization is in serious trouble and you seem to only have anger towards the inspectors who want to see your Certificate of Occupancy. You need to admit that your Enormo-Dome that was built in the wrong city, your head coach who mouths “He can’t do that!” when his play calls are overruled on the field by the quarterback and the fact that your franchise is just coasting on its’ fame and iconic status are very serious problems indeed. Stop trying to get the 2018 Women’s Lacrosse Championship and focus on the thing that built your Super Everything Convention Center, the Dallas Fucking Cowboys.

Ironically, this week is National Hand Washing Awareness Week.