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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

file sharing and labels faltering


You've heard all of the panic over file sharing and labels faltering, but what are the REAL issues in the music industry? Consider these four problems that don't get much attention in the music media but that have a huge impact on the industry.

1. Royalty Collection Companies Antics

Of course you should get paid when your music is used, but royalty collection companies are crossing the line of idiocy in your name. From trying to collect additional royalties on music usages you are already compensated for (ringtones) to demanding music fans pay for a public performance license for listening to the radio in their stable with their horses, the actions of these companies seem to have more to do with making up for their own financial problems than making sure you get your due.

The problem - aside from the fact that you pay a fee for this service - is that your fans don't know that you have little control over what your royalty collection company does in your name. To them, you're the greedy one. Great impression.

2. Internet Copyright and Royalty Issues

Sure the internet offers lots of options for music promotion, but what licensing regulations should be in place? Who gets to decide what is fair usage? Should labels be able to pull their artists' music off of sites like YouTube against the artists' wishes? Speaking of YouTube, what is a fair royalty for video plays on such a site? How do you balance the need of musicians to be paid for their work with the realistic earning potential (and ability to pay) of sites that host music?

Focusing on fan file sharing turns attention away from the real problem: the inability for music rights holders to hammer out a realistic game plan for licensing and compensation with websites that host and promote music.

3. The RIAA/File Sharing Lawsuits

Much like the first item on our list, we have a group that is damaging the relationship between musicians and fans, all in the supposed name of their music industry members. Many musicians and labels have spoken out against file sharing lawsuits, but for the RIAA, debate is out of the question. The average music fan doesn't really know enough about the industry to understand that their favorite musician isn't the one going to around suing fans for hundreds of thousands of dollars for sharing music. Their actions don't do much to stop downloading, and they create a bad impression of the music industry with fans.

Also, we don't have any good answer about how these judgements that the RIAA have won will be distributed to musicians. Interesting.

4. Radio Royalties

The US is one of the only countries in the world that does not require terrestrial radio stations to pay royalties to performers. A proposal is in place that would change that. The plan includes a sliding scale so that small stations would pay as little as $1,000 per year. Community stations would almost always be exempt.

Unfortunately, the debate over the issue has been controlled by Clear Channel - the Wal-Mart of radio stations - and people who make a lot of money for hosting shows and making radio appearances. They don't want these royalties to be paid because they would lose a lot of money, and they've managed to frame the debate so that they seem to be championing for the little guys. Don't you believe it. Musicians deserve to be paid.

 

Making money in the music industry isn't always as simple negotiating a salary and waiting for your paycheck to come in. The pay structure of many music industry jobs is based on percentages for one-off deals and freelance style work, but different music industry careers are paid in different ways. For this reason, the music career you choose will have a big impact on how you make money in the music business. Here, you'll find a look at how several common music industry jobs are paid, but remember, as always, that this information is general, and the deal you agree to will dictate your circumstances.

Managers:

Managers receive a pre-agreed percentage of the income from the artists they work with. Sometimes, musicians may pay managers a salary as well - this often works like a retainer, ensuring the manager doesn't work with any other bands. However, it should be noted that this latter scenario really only comes into play when the artists are making a sufficient enough income to support themselves comfortably and legitimately have a need to make sure their manager focuses only on them. Find out more about music managers

 

 

Music Promoters:

Promoters make money on ticket sales for the gigs they promote. There are two ways this can happen:

The promoter takes a percentage of the proceeds from the show after recouping their costs, giving the remaining money to the artists - this is known as a door split deal

The promoter may agree a fixed payment with the musicians for their performance and then any money left after costs is theirs to keep

Music Agents:

Agents take a pre-agreed percentage of the fees for the shows they arrange for musicians. In other words, if an agent negotiates a fee with a promoter for a band they represent to be paid $500 for playing a show, the agent takes a cut of that $500. Learn more about agents:

 

Record Labels:

At a very basic level, record labels make money by selling records. Your job at the record label and what type of label you work for will determine what this means for you. If you have your own record label, then you make money by selling enough records to cover your costs and make a profit. If you work for someone else's record label, you will likely get a salary or hourly wage. The size of the label and your role there determines how big that salary/wage will be. Learn more about record labels:

 

Music PR:

Whether radio plugging or conducting press campaigns, music PR companies get paid on a campaign basis. They will negotiate a flat fee for working a release or tour, and that fee will usually cover a set amount of time for the company to promote the product/tour. Music PR companies may also get bonuses for successful campaigns and reaching certain thresholds - for instance, a bonus if the album sells a certain number of copies. These agreements will be made before the campaign begins. Learn more about PR:

 

Music Journalists:

If music journalists work freelance, they will be paid on a per project or contract basis. If they work for a specific publication, they will likely receive a salary or hourly wage. Find out more about music journalists:

Music Producers:

Record producers may receive a salary if they are tied to a specific studio or be paid on a per project basis if they freelance. Another important part of music producer pay can be points, which allow producers to share in the royalties from music they producer. It should be noted that not all producers get points on every project. Learn more about producers:

Sound Engineers:

Sound engineers who work independently get paid on a per project basis - this can be a one night deal, or they may go on the road and do sound for a whole tour, in which case they will be paid for the tour and may also receive P.D.s. Engineers who work with a particular venue exclusively are likely to receive an hourly wage. Learn more about engineers:

Musicians:

What about the musicians themselves? Musicians make money from royalties, advances, playing live, selling merchandise, and licensing fees for their music. Sounds like a lot of revenue streams, but don't forget they often have to share the money with the people listed above. Learn more about making money as a musician:

Obviously, there are lots of different way to make money in the music business, and many of them come down to percentages and contracts. For this reason, it is crucial that everyone is on the same page about the hows, whens, and how muchs of the pay up front - and you should always get it in writing.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Language

The inner voice doesn’t so much conjure up the consolation of inner riches as it does a chattering internal radio. Although our inner voice is at least faithful to us—it is reassuringly or irritatingly there on tap. It offers us the unfailing if ambiguous company of a guest who does not plan to leave. It can be companionable or frightening, may range from fascinated eavesdropping of oneself to a brooding censor within—an internal dialogue that occupies both sides.

There is a voice— questioned as to its origin, we have no doubt that it’s ours, but its habitual presence resembles a rapid low-grade commentary without authorship, rather in the manner of Samuel Beckett’s assessment: “whose voice, no one’s.”1

We are essentially in conversations with ourselves most all the time— conversations about what’s going well and what’s not, what others think, what we think, how we feel, the invariable what ifs, how about, are you kidding?, etc.

That voiceover, that running stream of thinking and history and rumination, is not necessarily bad—it’s just, we never really get to hear another or they us. We pretty much listen only through the filter of what’s in our heads. What we’re saying to others, or they to us, might seep in from time to time, but it isn’t in what we or they are saying—it’s what we’re saying plus what they are saying about what we’re saying, which isn’t what we’re saying, etc., and vice versa.

That inner voice is a subtle and pervasive presence, and unfortunately has us miss out on the full possibility of communication and the infinite worlds it makes available. The business of living—our work, our mores, our relationships with friends, associates, and loved ones—is accomplished through speaking and listening.

 It is through language, through those acts of speaking and listening, that life really happens—in the side rooms, the hallways, the relaxed spaces of being human. Communication is how lives are started, money made, wars begun and ended, freedom realized.

So, back to the “listening” part. Bottom line, how we listen is essentially determined by our concerns—being successful, being liked, wanting to know what’s in it for us, how things will turn out. We can’t really listen to another when we’re preoccupied with our concerns. Listening without those predispositions, preoccupations, and filters has enormous power.

Listening doesn’t receive speaking, it isn’t a receptacle for speaking—it gives speaking. It’s the clearing in which speaking can occur. Listening is the possibility for understanding, for meaning, for being known and loved—it’s the backbone of international relationships, of businesses, of family members and friends. It’s long been a staple of corporate success—in the new media, listening is probably the most important factor in the toolbox. Listening is what allows others to be—it’s where both the speaker and what is spoken come alive, exist, and flourish.

Tina Fey, comedian, author, captures the creative power of listening from an improvisation perspective: The first rule of improvisation, she says, is “agree—agree with whatever your partner has created. So if I say, ‘Freeze, I have a gun,’ and you say, ‘That’s not a gun. It’s your finger. You’re pointing your finger at me,’ our improvised scene has ground to a halt. But if I say, ‘Freeze, I have a gun!’ and you say, ‘The gun I gave you for Christmas! You jerk!’ then we have started a scene.

Obviously in real life you’re not always going to agree with everything everyone says. But the idea is to ‘respect and listen to what the other person has created’ and to at least start from an open-minded place. Start with a ‘yes’ and see where that takes you. As an improviser, I always find it jarring when I meet someone in real life whose first answer is no. ‘No, we can’t do that.’ ‘No, that’s not in the budget.’ What kind of way is that to live? The second rule of improvisation is not only to say ‘yes,’ but ‘yes, and’—agree and then add something of your own. If I start a scene with ‘I can’t believe it’s so hot in here,’ and you just say, ‘Yeah…’ we’re kind of at a standstill. But if I say, ‘I can’t believe it’s so hot in here,’ and you say, ‘Yes, it can’t be good for the wax figures,’ now we’re getting somewhere.”2

Now to the “speaking” part. Speaking is more than just talking, more than the exchange of symbols or information, more than persuasion or saying what we really think, more than just a vehicle for describing or representing reality. Speaking is that which allows for “who” and “how” we “are” in the world. It’s what allows for the futures we create, where we evoke experience in others, where our ideas become clear and possible, where we share ourselves, and where others are expanded by our participation with them.

When we come together to talk, to act in common and listen to what is said, we can create something new between us. Major advances happen as a result of speaking—democracy, relativity, human rights are just a few. People see a possibility, and in the act of speaking can reshape the course of events.
Speaking and listening are not just something we do in response to a world that exists outside of us—they’re what brings that very world into being.

Language is an ontological phenomenon, a being phenomenon, not an auditory one. It’s the bridge between the uncreated and created worlds—it’s both the ultimate reality and the instrument through which reality is brought forth. When we see language this way—as that which gives rise to the world and that which gives access to what is in that world—it alters the very nature of what’s possible. Our conversations constitute who we are, and when we know that, it shifts our relationship to the world, the way we define ourselves—not merely in the way we think about ourselves, but in the actual experience of who we are.

Language is inseparable from who we are, and what gives us access to the full panoply of being human—of creativity, of love, of resolution, of achievement, of contribution. It’s the home, the only home, of possibility.

1Adapted from “The Inner Voice,” by Denise Riley, Harper’s Magazine, June 2005.
2 Adapted from Tina Fey, Bossypants.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

possibilities are there when you bypass walls which you place up

Nothing is so reckless as waiting for certainty—that’s a game we are sure to lose. Anyone who runs a business, chooses a mate, or just drives down the street knows there’s a risk. When the possibility of power, effectiveness, and freedom arises, we often find ourselves asking “what if the ball actually goes over the fence…. What if it doesn’t?” The question of whether something will happen or not is irrelevant to the phenomenon of possibility. There is no certainty as an inevitability, or predictability of the outcome—we are the ones saying something is possible. Real power occurs when we know we have something to say about the way things are—that we have access to the state of affairs beyond just reporting.
Creating possibility is risky business. Creation is a great risk, a kind of ultimate risk—the willingness to take a stand with no evidence. It’s hard to provide evidence, or make any real argument for a place where life can show up as a creation, but it is in, although within that that domain that the full world available to us in being human can be explored and lived. We cheat ourselves when we try to reduce the risk. What’s critical, what makes a difference, is to be left with a choice. And to be left with a choice means to be left fully at risk. Stimulating those risks is inseparable from living.

In virtually every human society, ‘he hit me first’ or ‘he started it’ provides an acceptable rationale for what comes next. It’s thought that a punch thrown second is legally and morally different than a punch thrown first. The problem with the principle of even-numb redness is that people count differently. People think of their own actions as the consequences of what came before, they think of other people’s actions as the causes of what came later, and that their reasons and pains are more palpable, more obvious and real, than that of others.

These are positions and ideas we all “wind up” playing out. When we “are” right, embedded in that truth is an equal truth that someone else is wrong—it’s not a matter of accuracy, it’s a matter of being. We can’t be happy, vital, and loving while we’re being right, making someone wrong, or justifying our positions—one displaces the other. The “rightness” of our positions also precludes us from being open to seeing other points of view.

We have a choice about what’s at play. When we elect to transform ways we wound up being, we move to a place of freedom, a place of possibility. Our points of view and positions can then move from fixed to malleable, from closed to open—where each person has an honoured place in the dialogue.

The stuff of wars, soap operas, divorce courts, Hamlet, and more all borrow on that equation, as do we. While we might wish we’d left that even-numberedness to our childhood and adolescence, it’s not to be. The dynamic of dealing with issues that are unwanted, yet persist continues to play out in board rooms, neighborhoods, marriages, and between nations—we justify, we blame, we complain.

Issues that are unwanted, yet persist can be a powerful impetus for change, as evidenced by the progress of human rights, for example. But there’s another world of things that are unwanted, yet persist—things that we complain about over and over, like some aspect of our relationships or jobs that is not working, and yet we find ourselves keeping around.

If we put what’s “unwanted, yet persists” together with “fixed ways of being,” we get what we call a “racket.” It’s a “mash up” of sorts (a web buzzword). In a mash up, one web application is combined with another, making both applications more productive and robust—you get something greater than the sum of the parts. If you mash up what’s unwanted, yet persists (which is most likely occurring as a complaint) and a fixed way of being, you also get something greater than the sum of its parts, but in this case, the yield heads in the wrong direction—the combination is unproductive or more accurately, counterproductive.

A complaint is some kind of opinion or judgment of the way things “should” or “shouldn’t be.” The evaluative component isn’t a commentary on facts that are true or false, accurate or not, but again how we think things should be. By fixed way of being we mean acting in a predictable and repetitive manner (like always frustrated, always upset, always angry, always nice, always annoyed, always suspicious, always confused, etc.). Whatever our fixed way of being is, it’s not something we have a choice over. It’s just there—it shows up automatically when the complaint shows up. It’s also worth noting that a recurring complaint doesn’t cause the way of being, nor does the way of being cause the recurring complaint—they simply come together in one package. The whole point here, though, is that it’s a fixed way of being, not a possible way of being.

The term “racket” comes from the days of big-city gangsters and street-level criminals who conducted questionable activities—loan-sharking, bribery, larceny—usually set up to get some kind of payoff, camouflaged by an acceptable cover above suspicion. In a “racketeering” operation, the efforts at concealing what’s going on behind the scenes can become quite elaborate so as to protect and ensure the success of the operation. We borrow the term racket as it’s applicable to our contemporary lives and because it carries with it many of the same properties—deception, smoke screens, payoffs, etc.

Sometimes persistent complaints originate with us, other times they come at us from someone else. It’s harder to see that we’re in “racket mode” with complaints that come at us, because it looks like somebody else is the persistent complainer, and we’re just an innocent bystander.

But under closer scrutiny, it turns out we too have complaints—complaints about their complaints. Our matching complaint might show up like, “don’t they understand, don’t they know how it is for me, why are they nagging, don’t they see everything I’m doing for them?” When we complain, we feel quite justified that our response is appropriate to the situation.

We explain the rationale behind our complaints to interested (and uninterested) parties, and point out how pleased we are with ourselves for taking the necessary steps to sort things out—we have a certain fondness for our attempts, for “trying.” We might get our friends, family, or co-workers to agree that we’re dealing with our complaints the best we can.

If they point out that perhaps we’re the one perpetuating the problem, we could feel misunderstood, put out, even busted. Seen from a distance, there can be something almost endearing about how we go about all this—as if it’s part of our authentic and sincere spirit—but actually, our rationale for doing what we do is another thing entirely. This is the camouflage or cover-up part. The deceptive nature of a racket and the allure of the payoff keep us from realizing the full impact rackets have in our lives.

The payoffs for keeping rackets around usually show up in several ways: being right and making others wrong (not the factual kind of right, but thinking that we are right and the other person is wrong), being dominating or avoiding domination, justifying ourselves and invalidating others (attributing cause to some thing or person other than ourselves), engaging in the win/lose dynamic (not “winning” like a celebration with trophies, applause, or congratulations to the opponent, but winning such that someone else is the loser or is lessened in some way).

 These payoffs are like facets of a diamond—although one facet might be more dominant than another (and we might deny or not be aware that some aspect of a payoff is active in our case), they’re really all at play.

The pull of these payoffs is often compelling enough to get us to give up love, vitality, self-expression, health, and happiness. That’s a ridiculously strong force. Those costs are the standard fare of a racket.  It’s pretty obvious that we can’t be happy, vital, and loving while we’re making someone wrong, dominating someone, being right, or justifying ourselves—one displaces the other. This is where choice comes into the picture.

Rackets, although one thing, have two forms of existence (somewhat like ice and steam are two forms of H2O). One form of a racket shows up as “I am X, Y, or Z.” The second shows up as “ahhh, I have a racket that is X, Y, or Z.” When we are the racket, it shapes and determines our way of being. But when we have a racket, it has very little power over our way of being. We have a choice about what’s at play—about giving up our rackets, our positions, our unproductive ways of being. When we elect to transform our default ways of being—being right, coming out on top (the even-numb redness, so to speak)—we move to a place of freedom, a place of possibility.

The question then becomes: How do I express my life? What would be, for me, the most extraordinary, created, invented life?  It becomes a matter of art, of design. How extraordinary are the everyday aspects of our lives; how rich our lives are, how full of opportunity, when we act on the possibility of living life fully.


Hundreds of flavours of ice cream, countless selections of movie channels, an infinite choice of mates, our daily round of work and play, our incessant getting and spending—the world of “more, better, different” is the air we breathe and its pull is ubiquitous.
It looks a lot like this: we search around and move around and do things and act and keep expanding and going for more or better and sometimes we get kind of stuck. But then we break out and we find a new place in life and we are off again expanding and growing and we keep on doing things and often get more from or better at doing that. And that’s what life’s like. Growing and expanding and learning and getting more, experimenting, trying things out differently. We might avoid the question “is this it” or “is this all there is” for a while, especially when we don’t have enough of what we’re after—like money, status, or comfort. But after we’ve got “enough,” the odds are we’ll visit those questions yet again.

More, better, different is the language of change—it’s comparative, defined and understood in light of the past. It’s about becoming. The language of possibility doesn’t necessitate changing anything. Possibility originates in the future, not the past. It’s about being, not becoming. Creating possibility is a stand, a declaration of who we are and what we’re out to create. It’s not taking what is and changing it—it’s taking what isn’t, and having it be. It’s about creating an extraordinary life as a place from which to come rather than a place to get—it’s about living life as a creative act.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Taking Care Of Business

This is my Blog and I am sharing information with you.

If you like to Dream, then do so as half our lives are filled with reality that once was a dream of someone else.I love Music, Entertainment, Craft, Films, Photography, Writing, Write Poetry, Lyrics, Animals, and Dreamers.My values are in Compassion, Trust, Truth, clarity, Honesty, Love and freedom.

I am a Reiki Master and I believe that children are our future. I believe that we must all get along, no matter what race or religious belief.I love Events and Venues. I want the artist to be free to express their talent without hurting others or themselves. I believe in the Dreamers and the Artist of all areas.

These people must be encouraged and not discouraged from their dreams. I work in the Entertainment Industry and I see so many things.I have seen the bad parts of the arena and also I see the good parts.

I personally encourage the good parts and encourage the Artist to keep their craft alive and make their dreams come true. Many like to make life better and I encourage all the possibilities.I am a facilitator for them. I do this because I want them to grow and live their lives and not get harmed by anyone or anything. I know that there are people out there who will try to pull them down and control things, but I want the Artist to flourish and grow.

I am Taking Care Of Business for the Artist.
I am Taking Care Of Business for the Public.
I am Taking Care Of Business for the Events and Venues.
I am Taking Care Of Business for The Corporations.

I Love Taking care Of Business.