The real story in nonphysical goods is one of deflation. Value in once-scarce — well, once-controlled — commodities like news, information, and advertising decline as the internet explodes creation and competition. The internet also destroys the ability of many to control distribution and thus value. But at the same time, the internet drastically increases efficiency thanks to platforms and open distribution and the ability — no, the need — to specialize and collaborate.
This is why the old controllers of scarcity have such trouble rethinking and remaking themselves for the economy of abundance. Their reflex is to control more, when that only decreases value.
So stop selling scarcity. Scarcity has no value.
As Jarvis points out the theory holds true for performers, many of whom are finally beginning to understand that ‘putting our content and information out there is how it gets distributed, how we find new people, how we build new relationships, how we realize new value.’ [via Frank Chimero has a blog.]
LA TImesGo Mobile quotes BACH Technology Chief Executive Stefan Kohlmeyer explaining the company’s MusicDNA project:
What we are bringing back to the end user is the entire emotional experience of music… We think it got lost in the transition to the digital era. We think a beautiful piece of audio has been reduced to a number code. We want to enrich it again.
And how? Replacing the easy-to-share mp3 file format with a more proprietary one that can contain lyrics, images and even updatable news. The goal – whose transparency I find disturbing – is to curb piracy .
So do bells and whistles like this ‘enrich’ music? I think we need more people in the music business encouraging the creation of music that enriches listening. I’m afraid that MusicDNA’s approach encourages the opposite.
Someone tell me why so many institutions in this business - including many in my corner of it - still insist on acting this way. [Please don’t say ‘money.’]
Four years after we posted our first homemade videos to YouTube and they spread across the globe faster than swine flu, making our bassist’s glasses recognizable to 70-year-olds in Wichita and 5-year-olds in Seoul and eventually turning a tidy little profit for EMI, we’re – unbelievably – stuck in the position of arguing with our own label about the merits of having our videos be easily shared.
Update: Mashable interviews OK Go’s frontman Damien Kulash about this issue. The line that caught my attention: ‘What we’ve always enjoyed about the Internet is that it’s not this marketer’s dream, it’s a creative person’s dream.’
I think records were just a little bubble through time and those who made a living from them for a while were lucky. There is no reason why anyone should have made so much money from selling records except that everything was right for this period of time. I always knew it would run out sooner or later. It couldn’t last, and now it’s running out. I don’t particularly care that it is and like the way things are going. The record age was just a blip. It was a bit like if you had a source of whale blubber in the 1840s and it could be used as fuel. Before gas came along, if you traded in whale blubber, you were the richest man on Earth. Then gas came along and you’d be stuck with your whale blubber. Sorry mate – history’s moving along. Recorded music equals whale blubber. Eventually, something else will replace it.
As the program makes clear, nothing could be better for creatives and performers [not to mention listeners] than the complete breakdown of the twentieth-century music industry business model in the face of the persistent openness of the internets and digital media. The following exchange between Rick Karr and independent musician Amanda Palmer encapsulates the new reality for artists:
Rick Karr: You may be the only optimistic person we’ve talked to in the entire music business … ten years ago the industry was selling 13.5 billion dollars worth of records, last year … 8 billion. And we’ve heard people say that the live touring industry is collapsing because it’s consolidated to the point where it’s just unsustainable anymore. And yet, you’re sitting here and … you sound really optimistic.
Amanda Palmer: People don’t love music any less. There might be a lot less money out there in the industry, but maybe that’s a good thing … Are you doing this to be rich and famous or are you doing this because you really love music and you want to connect with people, and you’ll do it even if it just means you make a living wage? If that’s true, I’m a fan of the new system.
Classical musicians, who more than most in the music business are positioned to offer an unparalleled live listening experience and through it a special connection with listeners, have generally been slow to wholeheartedly embrace new and independent approaches to presentation, programming and media. It’s time for concert artists to put creative programming front and center and to acknowledge that the reduced relative value of media practically demands that we share it with our listeners in an effort to engage them in our live work.
And a thought related to my own interests as a music fan: If you’ve ever wondered why a contemporary classical musician would be as stimulated by hip hop as I am, consider the OTM segment on sampling and the way the technique’s obsession with musical material and influence echoes the very same process in art music throughout the centuries. Perhaps that internal musical logic is the reason why hip hop was initially misunderstood by monetization-obsessed record labels, and why it has turned out to be a hugely influential musical genre in the very era of the industry’s collapse.
Since its founding over a decade ago, Los Angeles-based Stones Throw Records has authored the book on running a responsible, artistically significant label in the digital age. A deep respect for artists and for the process of creation along with a serious commitment to live performance form the core of Stones Throw’s approach; no surprise it produces and promotes some of today’s most vivid independent music.
Those same qualities also facilitate ST’s unique approach to the inevitable intellectual property issues that accompany sample-based music. Apparently open dialogue and a shared sense of purpose can actually supercede outmoded copyright limitations, at least in Stones Throw’s thriving little corner of the music business.
Somewhat related, this just in: Dark Night of the Soul, a significant new record by Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse, will be distributed solely as a blank CD-R due to the former’s legal issues with EMI stemming from a sampling dispute. For now you can stream it at NPR, or use your googling skills [read: album name + artist name + filesharing service name] to – as a Danger Mouse spokesperson suggested – ‘hear the music, by whatever means.’
A key issue facing musicians in the digital age is an ongoing shift in the relative values of recording and performance. Simon Jenkin’s take on old and new for the Guardian stands out for its resonance on this topic, cutting to the core of the contemporary relationship between taped and live:
Much of the power of enjoying music lies in being in the presence of its makers, in the intimacy of live. That a million people have visited [the Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra and Gustavo] Dudamel’s YouTube prom performance does not diminish the appeal of a concert but enhances it. The web is not a rival to live but an aid to it, a publicity tool. It is the medium but not the message.
This axiom applies to audio recordings as well [something I’ve highlighted before as it relates to digital media] and is a guiding principle of my efforts to share my own performances with you via the web.
Catching up on Twitter a few days ago my interest was piqued by a link to the Free Music Archive, a newly-established library of free and legal downloads. [via @culturite] What grabbed my attention – and probably should any performing artist’s – was the following from the FMA statement of purpose:
Every mp3 you discover on the Free Music Archive is pre-cleared for certain types of uses that would otherwise be prohibited by outdated copyright law … Inspired by Creative Commons and the open source software movement, the FMA provides a legal and technological framework for curators, artists, and listeners to harness the potential of music sharing.
Clearly, the kinds of web-powered sharing and promulgation that have already transformed other industries are gaining stronger footholds among artists and musicians. To me the only unfortunate aspect of the FMA is that it offers no category for orchestral music. No surprise, I suppose, given the general antipathy within the symphony business towards more open sharing of recorded product.
Note to orchestra folks: if we don’t join this revolution quickly and whole-heartedly the title of this post will apply to much more than a missing category on a music sharing website.
