The other day I had an epiphany: To the average music consumer, a song is
worth less than a candy bar. It might last longer, sound sweeter, and offer a
more meaningful experience, but don't ask us to spend more than $1 on it. In
fact, we'd prefer you didn't ask us to spend any money at all. That's why we
loved Napster, that's why we loved Pandora, and that's why we love Spotify.
Early last summer the popular European digital music service Spotify came to
the United States with much blog buzz and fanfare. Boasting a catalog of over
15 million songs, Spotify offers free streaming access to its entire library
through any laptop or mobile device. It's ad supported, but subscribers willing
to shell out $10 a month can enjoy their playlists without the interruption of
advertisements. Not a bad deal for music fans. And at first glance, it's not a
bad deal for musicians either. The artist is paid royalties on a per play basis.
Everybody wins, right? Not really.
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Will Baker
Spotify doesn't pay pennies on the dollar, it pays pennies on the penny. Recently, indie label Projekt Records pulled out of its deal with Spotify, citing a minuscule $0.0013-per-play payout as one reason for bailing. In 2010, The Guardian published an article in which author Sam Leith revealed a rather shocking piece of information: In the space of a few months, Lady Gaga's smash hit "Poker Face" received over 1 million streams. She was compensated to the tune of $167.
Spotify has since countered that claim, saying that the number is misleading and refers to the performance and publishing royalties paid to the collecting agency of the song's Swedish co-writer. But $167 sounds absurdly low no matter how you slice it. Of course, one could argue that Lady Gaga and her team don't need the money. Fans argued the same thing after Metallica sued Napster in 2000. When the conflict is framed as a David-and-
Goliath showdown between mega-rich rock stars and broke college students,
there's little question who will win the fight for the public's sympathy.
But that's not the battle that's being fought. The real victims here are so
powerless no one even remembers they exist. When an established band like
Radiohead gives away a record for free (as it did with "In Rainbows") it
increases exposure, which in turn boosts touring and merchandising revenue.
But the vast majority of bands out there aren't Radiohead. They're small,
unknown groups with no money or support structure. Sure, they can give away
their record. But will anyone notice or care? Probably not. Meanwhile,
Radiohead and Spotify are busy teaching us that, as consumers, we aren't
responsible for compensating our artists. In fact, we're being conditioned to
feel inherently entitled to the fruits of their labor. The amount of time and
money the artist has invested is of little concern. If we listen to something,
then it is ours. It's a perspective similar to that of a small child who sees a
new toy and shouts, "MINE!" He's always been given everything he wants.
Why should this be any different?
Many of us like to celebrate the apparent demise of the big, bad record companies as a justification for this behavior. We like to say that their
business model is outdated and now they're paying the price. Good riddance,
we say. Greedy bastards! But guess what? We've been singing that tune for
over a decade, and those greedy record companies are still here. Sure, they're
wounded. So they consolidate. They drop artists from their roster.
They stop developing young acts. They stop signing new bands. They stop
taking risks on anything different or exciting. They dump all their money into
the tiny handful of top-grossing acts that keep the label afloat, like Lady Gaga
and Metallica. When they do sign anyone, they sign safe bets like
American Idol contestants and YouTube child sensations.
The unknown bands are left floundering in cyberspace, hoping in vain that they
can amass enough Facebook fans to entice industry folk and get noticed. If
they're smart, they tour. But touring is expensive, and since their records aren't
selling well at gigs, they have trouble keeping the van gassed up. Unless
they've been blessed with an angel investor or rich parents, life on the road
isn't financially sustainable. So they figure the Internet is the way to go. Them
and about 15 million others. They try to get some blog attention. Maybe
Pitchfork will pick them up as the flavor of the month. But then what?
I still don't have any friends who listen to The Weeknd. Bands don't break
through blogs.
Point is, it's hard out there for the little guys, the unknowns. And let's be
honest, the trickle-down devaluation of music hasn't been much better for
audiences than it has for bands. Sure we save a couple dollars, but the culture
of one-hit-wonders, reality star divas, and the general cycle of crap that gets
churned out by the pop culture machine has only worsened, thanks to musical
Reaganomics. They say the customer is always right, but when the customer
stops valuing the product, why bother investing in its production? Innovation
dies in favor of the fast, the cheap and the guaranteed.
So pay for your music, boys and girls. Support the good stuff that's out there,
and skip services like Spotify. We can't afford to live off candy bars forever.