CONTENTS

WELCOME

Welcome to my corner of the internet where I, the self-proclaimed music industry guru, share my opinions and offbeat unconventional observations regarding the music business. Please be aware that all the content you'll find here is a product of my observation and unique viewpoints and is intended for entertainment. Let's embark on this journey through the disappointments and peculiarities of the music business together. 

May 23, 2003

The Reissue "Executive Producer"

The captivating realm of licensing and reissues, where I find myself entangled in a web of entertaining tales and perplexing individuals. Let's talk about a certain breed of individuals in the reissue industry who sometimes take themselves a tad too seriously. We all know the type—the executive producers who seem to believe they're heroic figures, single-handedly rescuing forgotten music from the depths of obscurity. They relish the opportunity to repackage old songs, even though their contribution may be limited to acquiring the rights and repackaging the material.

Running a reissue label can be a fascinating business. It allows you to delve into the rich tapestry of musical history, uncover hidden gems, and bring them back into the spotlight. However, it's important to maintain perspective and acknowledge the true extent of your role in the process.

Some reissue executive producers may succumb to their own hype, believing themselves to be geniuses solely responsible for the revival of forgotten sounds. They bask in the adoration of their fans, relishing the praise that comes their way. But let's be honest here: they're not reinventing the wheel or composing groundbreaking new music. They're essentially curators and custodians of the past, with a knack for repackaging nostalgia.

At the end of the day, it's the music itself that truly shines. The artists who created those songs deserve the lion's share of recognition. Without their talent and creativity, there would be nothing to reissue. Executive producers may acquire the rights, arrange the packaging, and market the releases, but they stand on the shoulders of the original musicians.

It's essential to maintain a level of humility in this field. Yes, running a reissue label can be profitable, and it's perfectly fine to enjoy the financial rewards that come with it. However, it's crucial not to lose sight of the fact that your success is built on the foundation of someone else's artistry.

So, next time you come across an executive producer who seems to take themselves a bit too seriously, with an inflated sense of importance, remember that they're essentially glorified used car salesmen with a vinyl fetish. Appreciate their efforts to bring forgotten music back into circulation, but never forget that the true heroes are the musicians themselves.

Let's celebrate the artists, the creators, and the music that has stood the test of time. After all, it's the power of those melodies, lyrics, and rhythms that continue to resonate with us and capture our hearts.

Yonatan Nathanson © 

May 23, 2003

The Music Industry's Guardians of Darkness

Let me preface by stating that what follows is purely my personal opinion and experiences. With that said, I sincerely hope I don't find myself in a situation where someone "Epstein's" me for expressing it. This information is particularly applicable to small independent labels, such as those with a DIY approach. It may not be relevant to everyone's situation, but it is worth considering.

In the vast and mysterious world of the music industry, there exists a peculiar species known as royalty collecting companies where names sound like a random word soup that someone threw at the wall to see what sticks. GEMA, PRS, ASCAP, SACEM, APRA etc. To simplify matters and cater to our acronym-loving overlords, from this point onward I'll call them RCC's. They act like fairy godmothers of the music industry, swooping in to protect artists and producers from the clutches of evil. Or are they? Among us label owners and industry insiders, a certain skepticism lingers regarding these tangled acronyms. We suspect that beneath their seemingly noble facade, a web of intrigue, suspicion, and a shadowy underworld exists—reminiscent of a music industry protection racket.

On the outside, RCC's seem like the epitome of altruism. They claim to provide a seamless system for artists and producers to collect their hard-earned royalties. How thoughtful of them! But wait, could it be a ruse? Are they just pretending to be the saviors of the industry while secretly hatching a diabolical plan to rule the music world? One of the most amusing things is their commitment to transparency—or lack thereof. It's like they have a secret mission to keep artists and producers in the dark. Complex calculations, convoluted financial practices, and a general air of mystery surround their operations. Who needs to know how their royalties are calculated, anyway? It's more fun to play a game of "guess the deduction" and hope for the best.

Just like the protection money demanded by mob bosses, RCCs have their own version of a "tribute" known as administrative fees. RCC's are not just looking out for artists' financial well-being; they also need to pad their own pockets. After all, who doesn't love paying hefty fees for the pleasure of having someone else collect your money? It's like a selfless act of charity, but with a price tag. But hey, what's a few extra dollars compared to the warm and fuzzy feeling of knowing your royalties are being handled by the professionals. 

RCC's have even perfected the art of dragging their feet when it comes to distributing those hard-earned funds. Just like a mafia-run operation, they are masters of intimidation and delay tactics. Incorrect reporting? Disputes left unresolved? It's all part of the grand adventure of being an artist, right? We can just sit back and enjoy the thrill of chasing after our own money while they play a game of hide-and-seek. Who needs timely and accurate royalty payments? Not artists, apparently. Furthermore, forget about that personal touch you might expect. With thousands of artists and producers to deal with, they've become masters of the art of detachment. It's like trying to have a deep conversation with a chatbot—futile and impersonal. Who needs a caring representative when you can bask in the glory of automated responses and templated emails.

For us skeptical label owners, cutting out the middlemen and dealing directly with artists and producers is a breath of fresh air. We can form genuine connections, understand their unique needs, and ensure they receive their rightful share of the royalties. Thankfully, I can count numerous instances of this happening throughout my career in running a record label. No more mysterious deductions, exorbitant fees, or mind-numbing bureaucracy. It's just you and the creators.

In this ever-evolving music industry, it's crucial for label owners and industry heads to question the prevailing norms and challenge the status quo, embrace transparency, and reclaim the power. While I may not be the biggest fan of crypto, there is one technology that holds the potential to address these issues and eliminate the need for middlemen once and for all: Blockchain. Its decentralized nature and transparent ledger system offers a glimmer of hope in the music industry's struggle against RCCs, but that's a topic for another time. In the meantime we should seek alternatives that prioritize direct connections with artists and producers, empowering them to take control of their own destinies.

Yonatan Nathanson ©

May 25, 2003

Radio Reflections: Talent Beyond Geography

During my time in radio and on air, I was often called out and questioned why I didn't support enough local music. Back in the day, folks seemed to believe that as a radio host, I possessed an innate ability to decipher the quality of music solely based on its geographical origin. Little did they know that my superpower was actually being able to detect talent regardless of their address. Who needs a map when you have an impeccable ear for great tunes, right?

Let me set the record straight: my support for music was driven by its merit, not its proximity to my zip code. As a radio host, my mission was to expose listeners to exceptional songs that I believed could move their ear drums. Whether a song came from the streets of my hometown or from a faraway land, it was the quality of the music that captured my attention.

Of course, it was a common misconception that being "local" automatically meant guaranteed airplay or my personal adoration for an artist's work. How charming it was to be reminded that just because someone lived down the street, I should play their tunes and bow to their unquestionable talent. 

Let's not forget the accusations of a gatekeeper mentality that were sometimes thrown my way. The joys of being part of an industry where individual preferences are mistaken for an evil plot to keep aspiring artists at bay. Trust me, my fellow radio hosts and I were on a secret mission to ensure only the chosen ones could grace the airwaves. In reality, our job as radio hosts was no walk in the park. We were inundated with a deluge of music submissions, each artist hoping to secure a spot in the limelight. It took an astute ear and careful consideration to select the tracks that would captivate our audience. My personal preferences were often set aside, replaced by a pursuit of musicality, production quality, and overall appeal. 

My message to aspiring musicians has always been the same, let's not get tangled in the myth of locality. Focus on honing your craft and create music that shines. After all, music knows no boundaries.  As I bidded farewell to my days in radio, I left with a smile. The journey continues and I trust that good music will keep bridging the gaps and defy the limits imposed by post codes.

Yonatan Nathanson © 

Shady Propositions and Dishonest Schemes: Exposing the AI Music Scammers

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of being graced by the presence of two masterminds who had apparently cracked the code to musical revolution. Intrigued by the prospect of exchanging ideas and exploring new avenues for music advancement, I agreed to meet with them. Little did I know, I was about to step into a web of deceit and scamming.

Within the first two minutes of our meeting, a pungent aroma of fraud began wafting through the room. Having been around the block long enough, I have a finely tuned bullshit detector. These so-called entrepreneurs had zero background in music, lacking any musical inclination. Instead, they reveled in their prowess as bitcoin bros and tech-savvy individuals.

Their grand plan, if you can even call it that, revolved around flooding streaming platforms like Spotify with millions of AI-generated ambient "music" tracks. Oh, what a novel concept! As if we didn't have enough elevator tunes to haunt our dreams already. To further their nefarious agenda, they employed the very same AI to "listen" back to these songs millions of times across countless servers worldwide, all in an attempt to siphon money from the system through fake streams. Their audacious claim of "staying under the radar" set off giant red flags, revealing their true nature of dishonesty and scamming.

Unable to contain my disgust, I decided to play along momentarily. With a wry smile, I asked these fraudsters if they could assist me in acquiring a million streams for some of my releases. Their response spoke volumes: "That's not how we work, otherwise we'll get caught." "Exactly," I said. "The ethics of scammers". A true testament to their commitment to honesty and integrity. With a firm resolve, I swiftly showed them the door, bidding them goodbye (more like "fuck off"). They were not to contact me again. The purpose of this meeting remained obscure, leaving me uncertain of their intentions. It seemed likely that their underlying motive was to secure funds for expanding their server infrastructure. 

As the gravity of the situation dawned on me, I realized that the ones ultimately paying the price for this deceitful endeavor were users like myself, who faithfully held premium Spotify accounts. In essence, they were shamelessly robbing from me, directly and indirectly. Streaming companies divide up royalty payments from a limited pool of cash—the more a song plays, the more its creator earns. So, more money for songs "listened" to by AI can mean that less is sent to those with human fans. The motivation behind this appears to be nothing more than a quick cash grab at the expense of artistic integrity. If Spotify doesn’t catch up, it’s human artists who will be left behind.

Artificial streaming, or bot listening, isn’t new, but AI is adding a new element that has opened the floodgates by providing an effortless method for individuals to generate streams for low-quality tracks. It's honestly disheartening to witness true artists' work overshadowed by the ease with which AI-generated compositions are regurgitated. These scammers have unleashed a plague upon the music industry.

Regrettably, this trend poses a significant threat to genuine musicians who invest countless hours, dedication, and passion into their artistry. The predicament we face is undeniably perplexing. The concept of AI-generated compositions being deemed "heard" when consumed solely by automated bots presents a challenge for music-streaming companies. While I acknowledge Spotify's involvement in shady and exploitative practices (which is a whole separate issue), the primary focus here is on the actions of scammers. Their fraudulent scheme not only targets Spotify but primarily affects loyal account users who contribute to the platform through monthly payments. It is highly probable that Spotify's recent price hike is partly a response to these fraudulent activities, necessitating additional funds to address the issue (i.e. payouts).

Furthermore, the notion that these AI-generated ambient soundscapes can be deemed "music" is nothing short of comical. It's absolutely hilarious how they fail to capture the profound human sentiment, artistic expression, and nuanced complexities that characterize authentic musical creations. Instead, they deliver a hollow and pitiful imitation, a feeble attempt at replicating true inspiration. Who needs actual human creativity, emotion, and talent when you can have a bunch of ones and zeros orchestrating a symphony of monotony? 

The encounter left me with an ugly feeling and filled me with anger to witness individuals like them preying on the system. Their complete disregard for authentic creativity and artistic integrity is an offense to those who hold music in high regard.

So let us be the guardians of true music, diligently protecting it from the clutches of scams and fraud. Only then can we preserve the essence of what music truly represents—a profound connection, a universal language that transcends artificiality and touches the very core of our humanity. Let's rally behind the principles of transparency, fairness, and authenticity and expose these scams, so we can safeguard the sanctity of music, and uphold the principles of honesty and integrity that should guide us all. By engaging in an epic battle with these scammers, we can guarantee that the music industry remains a magical wonderland of rainbows and unicorns.

Yonatan Nathanson ©