Access is why you will never be a rich and famous musician

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There is a myth involving the music industry that seems to persist from generation to generation. The myth that, when it comes to music, the cream always rises to the top. That is, the best music/artists will always get signed to a major label, get played to the masses, make it to the top of the charts, become a sit sensation, etc., etc. That the music constantly getting played on the radio or that finds its way onto a movie soundtrack is the best of the best. This is simply not true; the sheer amount of pedantic crappy pop music that constantly assaults our aural peace is proof of that. Naturally, artists and labels generally don’t want to dispel this myth, as they benefit financially from the illusion that things like constant radio play means that the music is popular and thus worthy of your money ala download sales and concert tickets.

The reality is that determining which music/artists that get to ‘rise to the top’ is primarily an issue of access. Access to the right people and the right funds is what drives the music industry (or any industry for that matter).

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It’s all about who you know (or networking, networking, networking)

Every industry has gatekeepers. There are gatekeepers everywhere you turn. As if dealing with them wasn’t challenging enough, figuring out who the ones are that can provide any actual help is damn near impossible. The guy claiming to love your sound and absolutely will get you signed and make you rich and famous usually turns out to be some coked up blowhard looking for a new drink ticket hookup. Meanwhile, that slightly awkward guy you just accidently bumped into and made him spill his drink because you were too distracted by that coattail-rider putting dollar signs in your eyes and didn’t even offer an ‘excuse me’ like your poor mother taught you, is a major label rep who just wrote you off.

The good news is that no single gatekeeper can make or break you. There are many paths to success, but they ultimately all rely on your network. Who you know and, more importantly, who knows you. You can have the best music in the world, but if the right people don’t have access to it, it will mean nothing in terms of a career. Now, if you are just making it for yourself, or for that one hipster and his bragging rights for finding your unknown work after an all-night smug fueled search, driven by the constant worry that he won’t be allowed in the gluten-free locally sourced vegan coffee shop without scowls and jeers from the artisanal baristas unless he produces something previously undiscovered, then this need not apply to you. But if you want to build an audience, and make a career in music, then you need a network.

Not only is your network crucial for exposing your music to “important” people in the industry, as well as building your audience, it is vital for you to improve and refine your crappy pop music so that you can build a bigger and wider audience and move on up the ladder within the industry. There are no overnight successes, despite what you may hear, there are just people that have access to better networks.

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Money money money money, money

If you don’t have access to money (whether it be yours or an investor) you aren’t going to be that chart-topping artist that you promised all your ‘haters’ you would become. Money makes the world go ‘round, and the music industry in no exception. Aside from needing money for obvious things like equipment, accessing listeners (you know, the ones that actually pay for your songs and for those overpriced tickets to your show and gives you value as a selling artist to labels and venues) costs money, mainly through both direct advertising and indirect advertising (like radio play or those crappy CDs playing in stores that retail clerks have to listen to all day long and then die a little inside when you ask them what song is playing right now because they have no idea and they just want you to buy that damn shirt so they can go refold all those clothes you just messed up looking for that perfect black V-neck).

One of the advantages of being on a label used to be that they essentially acted as an investor. They would take care of getting the music beyond your own small fan base and activate their hype-machine to get your work exposed to the mass market, just like any other business and product, all to maximize their return. Given the, now, low return from digital sales and the extreme saturation of available music, this model has changed and you basically have to already be profitable before you will be taken seriously. Further, everyone has all but relegated to compete for listeners online (usually on the same limited sites and social media platforms). To make matters worse, the algorithms that expose content to people on these sites are always changing, making it even harder to get exposed without any kind of substantial investment.

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Think of it this way… Beatport, one of the more popular digital retail outlets for dance music, has over 4.6 million songs just in their Progressive House genre alone. When they first started 11 years ago, you could search and sort by artist, the site is so saturated now that it no longer remains an option. Further, let’s just use a safe round number and say that you are competing with 1,000,000 other artists worldwide for attention. This means you have a .0001% of making into the top 100. Want to be a top 10 artist you say? Well, then that would be .00001% (and this is all assuming of course that your music isn’t complete crap, which, odds are it is).

The truth is that the odds you are going to be a superstar are very low, sorry to be the one to have to break it to you. Unless you are one of those lucky few that just happens to make the right kind of network, or have the right amount of funds to invest millions in advertising, you might want to start making friends with that hipster after all.

Disclaimer: Yes, I know that there are always exceptions to the rule and that there are examples of your sister’s cousin’s ex-roomate’s, former dog’s owner’s lover that made it to the big time after being discovered in the ghetto while doing dishes in the back next to the toilet. There is a reason those stories stand out, because there are extremely rare. Being at the right place at the right time can play a role when extreme talent is involved, but access to a good network is still key even in those cases.

Disclaimer part 2: I’m not trying to discourage you from making music or following your dreams. Ultimately I just want you to be realistic about your goals and how to get there. If you have real passion for the music, and you have a vision that you really want to share, share it. Now, if you are just trying to be famous for the sake of being famous, I am actually trying to discourage you. The music industry is saturated with enough meaningless crappy songs, quit.

Why do white DJs make all the money?

book-your-favourite-djs-1-01I occasionally get to see what search terms lead people to Not Your Jukebox. A couple of weeks ago, the question of “why do white DJs make all the money” led some curious soul to this site. After an initial chuckle, I realized that this is actually a damn good question. When you look at the top earners, per Forbes magazine, 15 of the top 16 are white. The one non-white is Steve Aoki, and well… close enough.

So why is there so little diversity when it comes to the top earners? Why didn’t techno legend Carl Cox even make the list? Especially considering he is frequently booked solid a year in advance. Even house legend Derrick Carter quipped, “Shoot, If I had the answer, I’d be making all the money, too. It would be ‘Why do white DJs and Derrick Carter make all the money?'”

Digging a little further and looking at the DJ Mag top 100 (yes I know, I puked in my mouth a little too), it was not surprising that their list was looking a bit like Abercrombie & Fitch propaganda (albeit not nearly as in shape and much hairier). After some time searching through various lists, the trend was pretty clear: ethic diversity and women (especially those that weren’t dressed like they were about to dance around a pole) were generally scarce among top ten lists.

Black pioneers founded DJing and house/techno music, so why has it become so predominantly white? Sinbad called attention to this very issue during a radio interview earlier this year (fast forward to 17:40).

So what happened? Is it just a standard case of white male dominance and cultural appropriation? I reached out to some of my black DJ and producer friends to see what their views on the matter were. Some didn’t even want to broach the subject, feeling it was not the right time to discuss the topic given much of the issues going on nationally (like in Ferguson) and didn’t want to rock the boat or risk alienating themselves from the promoters they were currently working with. The fact that there was this kind of trepidation made me want to bring this issue to light that much more, why should there be hesitance when it comes to pointing out inequality?

My first call was to Detroit to get insight from friend and manager Cornelius Harris, head of AlterEgo Management and member of the techno collective Underground Resistance. “My general understanding is that on average,” he explained, “black men make about 75% of what white men make. In terms of electronic music, I can say that when you’re talking about ‘names’ the gap is bigger. But that may be because the fees are insane to begin with. Some of these guys are making $40,000 on a so-so show. So yes, that’s a huge jump from what the original guys who invented techno make.”

Devlin Jenkins (aka Vagabond Superstar), a house DJ staple of the Pacific Northwest, confirmed another important point, “It’s about marketability. It’s easier to market a white DJ than it is a black one. It always has been. White men have always been more visually flexible and can fit into more molds and cookie cutters than can minorities. You can be punk, metro, gay, flashy, posh, etc. as a white man and it seems ‘natural’ to the masses, more so than for a minority.” He continued, “Being white is more pliable and versatile than any other race because it’s been burned into our minds, not only in the US, but globally. White DJs are more willing to be gimmicky and trite for money, whereas minority DJs aren’t. Try to imagine DJ Sneak doing what Paulie D does, or DJ Heather doing what Paris Hilton does or any minority doing what Deadmau5 or Skrillex do. Visually it just wouldn’t be taken seriously and wouldn’t get one quarter of the traction. Plus as a minority, you’ll always be a minority first instead of a DJ first. These days it’s more of a surprise to see a person of color seeing the success of a Deadmau5 because no one expects a person of color to make it that far.”

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Everybody I talked to generally agreed with the assertion that the business side of the music industry being primarily white-owned comes into play as well. Success in any business relies heavily on who you have access too. White artists generally have more access to the white connections that have access to the white-owned labels and white-run events. When looking at EDM, which is where the high dollars are currently at, the trend further crystalizes. The crowds that attend EDM shit shows festivals are primarily white, so it is no wonder that the powers that be would want to reflect that on their stage. The real question is what came first, the white crowds or the white DJs?

Even the underground sees its share of imbalance. A longtime mainstay DJ of the Southern California scene (who because of the sensitive nature and local politics of the topic wanted to remain anonymous) points out, “I’ve been dealing with this kind of thing for 20 years,” he says, “When it comes to local talent, promoters book their friends at a higher wage. There isn’t a lot of black rave promoters in the area so unless you’re the exception and extremely close with all the white and Hispanic promoters, you are getting paid less, if at all.”

Clearly there is a problem here, one I find especially out of place for a scene that is supposed to be all about love, peace, unity, respect, and equality. At one point I even joked that the problem is that the moneymaking genre is EDM and there just isn’t enough soul for black DJs. But as Cornelius quickly pointed out, “There are plenty of cheesy black guys looking to make a buck. I guess that’s why there’s Seth Troxler.”

Despite all the possible reasons of why this inequality exists, the question remains: how do we fix it?