
Last time, I mentioned that the music industry might not actually exist as a separate industry, at least for the purposes of creating a business model that you can use to market your music.
Sometimes, however, it seems like there is a sort of music industry—one that has as its customer base all the musicians, songwriters, composers, and other creative people. Based on the pitches in my inbox, it is akin to the once growing vanity publishing business that made “pay to publish” a terrible phrase (although it came from a noble tradition). And we don’t even have to look as far as “pay to play” to see the demon rear its ugly head.
A quick history (optional)
Actually it has been around for a long time. It’s roots are found in ads in the back of magazines where you could find advertising for “song poems” that could be made into greatest hits, if only you were smart enough to hire this company to put your words to music and create a record that they would then “promote.” (If you aren’t familiar with printed magazines, don’t worry about it. Just bear with me.) Your professionally recorded song would be sent to all the radio stations (which is how it was done). Of course, your song would stand heads and shoulders above the others on the air, because the song would be crafted by a professional songwriter (obviously otherwise currently unemployed for unknown reasons) and professionally recorded. Well, of course they were professionals—you paid them, which made them professional (i.e., earning money from music).
Back to current events
These folks, because they preyed on songwriters, were called song sharks, and although the magazine ads are mostly gone, and the disguises have changed, the fact that they prey on the desire of creative people to get their music heard hasn’t changed in the least. The internet not only makes it easier for music to get to people, it also makes it easier for the sharks to pitch their latest revolutionary way of getting your music heard.
Unfortunately, it is hard to separate the sharks (some of which seem to have morphed into vampires, in keeping with entertainment trends; so let’s use the term song vampire for them from now on) from legitimate toilers in the vineyards of music. Music is not a single product, nor simple. There are not any canned ways of doing things that produce more than canned results. So there is a great deal of room for hardworking agents, music pitching companies, music libraries, and so on. But there are few rules to help distinguish the revolutionary new idea (excuse me, we call them “platforms” now) from the same old con in new clothing.
It’s all very tiresome. And to add to the confusion, some things work for a while, then succumb to their own popularity.
Conventional wisbits
There are two competing bits of conventional wisdom out there. The first, the older, is that you shouldn’t pay for anything. That was the advice offered in the song shark era. If your music is any good, then people will pay you for it. If there is money to be made from your music, then plenty of talented people will be willing to work with you to get it in the right hands. This seems dated now, but there is a kernel of truth in it still. But it conflicts with conventional wisdom bit #2: If you won’t invest in your career, why should anyone else?
The problem I have with this wisbit (i.e., wisdom bit—it is the moral duty of journalists to corrupt the language with more meaningless jargon) is that first, it doesn’t provide any guide for where to invest. I have untold thousands of dollars invested in musical instruments, training, computers, software, microphones, sheet music, more instruments… I will stop here, having made that point. None of this is what the song vampires are talking about. What they mean is that my not giving them money is proof that I lack confidence in my own ability, music and career. To that I say (along with many things probably left unsaid): “Bullshit!” What I lack, often times, is confidence in their ability to help me in any way. The fact that they got some punk rock group into a club in Des Moines doesn’t mean a thing about what they can do in getting my music to recording artists, placed in films, or even get me more money when I play the local coffee shop (Yankee Creek, every other Sunday morning, 9:30-11:30—hope to see you there) or a regional festival. In fact, many of the “services” make my life harder because it seems to revolve around my running my life in a way they understand.
That isn’t how it works in the corporate world. In that universe (world is too small a word) the PR person goes to the client (hat in hand, dressed up real nice) and gets a spiel on “what we do and how we do it” and then goes back to the office to devise a program that does what the client wants.
But the point here is not to rant about the ineffectiveness of much music marketing; rather I simply want to point out that when it comes to song vampires, you not only don’t necessarily get what you want or need, but that it might soak up time better spent doing something frivolous, say making music.
Soft sell ending
So if you have some ideas of how to tell opportunities apart from the invitations of song vampires, share them. But bear in mind that everyone seeking money from you is not a vampire, unless they work for a government.







