Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Five Lessons to Navigate Today's "Faltering" Music Industry: A Study of Alex Day

I study music in college so, as you may expect, there are a lot of people I study with that have bands and are trying to make a living through music. With these past couple of years I’ve witnessed some general trends surrounding the attitude a lot of people have regarding the music industry and “making it”. Many, if not most, of these beliefs are misguided and wrong. So I set out to understand what it actually took to make a living from music.

A lot of people are detesting record deals and it’d be easy for me to go down that road and speak as if I knew what I was talking about. But, instead of being a charlatan and posing as if I knew how to obtain success by citing general ideas of self-distribution and “fuck the labels” rhetoric, I figured it’d be better to study someone who has made it. This study would help others and myself when trying to navigate this industry. But what artist has documented his successes and failures and journey well enough to allow me to study his ideas and process?

Well, one day I was spending some quality time on Reddit. An author I follow regularly, Ryan Holiday, was doing an AMA and I asked him, “Do you know any good sites or books that would help me better understand the path of self-distribution?”

Ryan’s reply: “Alex Day did an AMA yesterday. That dude is really smart and doing exactly what you're talking about right in front of us. I would ask/follow him.”

I’d never heard of Alex Day so I googled him and started exploring his website. On the front page was an embedded Youtube video of his new tune, “Good Morning Sunshine”. At first I wasn’t sure I liked it--it was a pop song and I am usually biased against pop music. But the video was fun and the song was certainly catchy so I decided not to pass judgment and bookmarked his site on Delicious to return to later.

Now, a few months later, I’ve been stricken with Alex Day fandom. (Though I don’t like all of his music-- some of it is still too poppy.) I also sifted through all his back-posts on his website and distilled his blog posts down to a few key lessons.

But, before we get to that, I must say: this list is not meant to be a direct recipe for success. It is just a few basic motifs that seem to have helped Alex’s career. Success, I believe, should be defined by yourself and achieved without having to live up to any external factors/entities. So without further ado...

1.) Fuck Gigging (At least until you have a solid fanbase to support it.)

Alex Day as a solo artist, to my knowledge, has never played a gig. But he lives comfortably in his own house, supported by his content. I say content because he has multiple platforms to get his music out there. There’s recordings on all the major online music sites: Spotify, Grooveshark, Itunes; he makes videos on Youtube, some which have his music, others do not; he has a website which promotes his music and also has many blog entries describing some of the work he’s done and his ideas about certain things (This is what I sifted through to write my article.)

Every new band I’ve seen start follows the same basic trajectory. First, they get together and start jamming. Eventually they’ve got a few songs together and sound pretty good, so they tap their network of friends and start looking for gigs. They get a few gigs and make a little bit of money but, eventually, they get tired. They’re not making enough money to support themselves and they want to know why they’re not getting any traction/recognition. Soon enough, there’s a fight and the band “takes a break” which translates to never getting back together. They’ve broken up even before sticking out the necessary time (usually a few years) to really gain enough fans to start making some real money. This is the old model and, while it will work for some who want to go that route, there is a new and possibly better way.

2.) Learn some Marketing

If you’re not going to gig, you’re going to have to get your music out there a different way. Instead of hating on the internet like many musical dinosaurs who have survived the rise of the web, embrace it and learn to use it. I already mentioned some sites Alex Day’s music is on. He’s also on Facebook, Twitter, and has an RSS feed. But there’s much more. Here’s an excerpt from his blog post about trying to become number 1 on the charts while promoting a band he was in (The Sons of Admiralis).

“My strategy is to assume that nothing will work. As soon as something happens, assume it won’t work. That way I’m constantly motivated. Cos I’m thinking “shit, nothing I’ve done so far has worked!” I’ve been burning CDs. I bought a printer so I could print out press releases and CD labels. I registered the song for the charts. I sent out a mailing list, updated this blog, made a YouTube video, fielded interview questions for a couple local papers. I gave a copy of the song to Scott Mills yesterday. I was up till two this morning filling out envelopes to mail to producers and DJs, and then up again at eight to hand-deliver them. (But as we’ve established, none of this will work.)”

It’s hard work, of course, but it pays off.

3.) Have Integrity

First, have integrity with your creations. Don’t release crap that you’re not proud of. Rough cuts could be released for free, framed as a cool extra for fans, but don’t try to sell it. The fans you gain want good products and only want to pay for quality.

Assuming you have quality products, don’t sell out as soon as you gain popularity. Companies, when you gain notoriety, may approach you and offer money to place their product in your video. Don’t do it unless you actually support the product! Alex touched on some possible consequences of selling out in this post. Here’s a pertinent quote:

“...if I have to earn money from somewhere, I’ll pick loyal subscribers who actually care about me and the things I make and do over some faceless company who only want me while I’m popular.”

4.) Be Transparent

This goes hand-in-hand with having integrity, but it does not mean share every detail about yourself, personal and professional. Just write about things that are going on with you in some form of online platform. If you’ve been approached by a company to promote a product, explicitly state it and tell your fans why you support it. Be honest! A narrative exists that artists need to be mysterious. Don’t give in to that narrative.

When record companies began approaching Alex after he charted a radio single, he wrote about it and why he didn’t ultimately sign a contract:

“...they really couldn’t offer me anything I can’t do myself, used a lot of vague buzzwords (“we’d like to take what you’ve done so far and expand it”), and would insist on me playing by their silly rules; getting a VEVO channel, giving them most of my money even though I’m doing most of the work, getting a big say in what songs I release and when, not letting me produce my own music... sounds rubbish!”

This is a perfect demonstration of all my above points and also leads me to my last, catch-all lesson...

5.) Love your fans and interact with them. “The love you take is equal to the love you make.”

All of the previous points will help garner fans and eventually, foster interaction. If you interact with your fans, you can help establish a healthy relationship. You can let them know where the boundaries are and that someone watching through your window while you eat a bacon sandwich is not okay.

If you have enough fans, you could do an AMA on Reddit. There’s so many platforms, and many of them were established by the internet. So don’t loathe the internet, embrace it.

*   *   *

Now, while these are just five tips I’ve gleaned from Alex Day’s sites, I’ve only scratched the surface. Educate yourself and you’ll come to realize how much more there is that can be learned.

Here’s a couple other articles (1 & 2) I’d recommend about Alex Day, by a better writer than myself. You may enjoy these more.


Like me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Binghamtownie: It's Complicated

Jimi and Dr. Handsome had lived together for two school years before I moved in with them. They’d already learned to deal with one another’s idiosyncrasies. I was still getting used to them. I’ve realized now that hating Natalie became a positive amongst the three of us. It united us against a common enemy. Before joining the fight against Natalie, we directed our social frustrations and boredom at one another in the form of childish nitpicking. This drawn-out prodding reached its apex with Jimi and I almost fighting at four in the morning, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Dr. Handsome had told me stories about how, when they lived together before, Jimi would leave lights on outside his room, knowing it would bug Dr. Handsome enough to get up and turn it off. Jimi would also squeeze the toothpaste in the middle instead of rolling the tube up from the end. This made it difficult for Dr. Handsome to extract the toothpaste remains when he was low on funds and, more importantly, didn’t have time to run to Wegmans because he needed to study.

Though annoying, the lights and toothpaste were trivial, inconsequential, to the really important things in life. For Dr. Handsome, when school was in session all other life ceased to exist.

I’ve already told you Dr. Handsome was home-schooled. Home-schooled kids tend to be oddballs, but Dr. Handsome is rather normal in every facet of life--probably moreso than myself--except in regards to school. Homeschooling seemed to foster an inadequacy within Dr. Handsome which led him to believe that he needed to maintain perfect grades. And this need led him to extreme study sessions. With the seriousness he took his studies, you would think Dr. Handsome grew up under the tyranny of a Tiger mom.

Jimi and I could always tell when a test was approaching because Dr. Handsome would be locked away in his room studying. He’d head out the next morning looking like he’d been stricken with pneumonia, the result of having spent the past 15-20 hours pounding Nos, taking notes, and cycling through flash cards. On top of that, the amount of discarded Kleenex made me think he’d reward himself with a quick rub-out after finishing a chapter and then get back to work. Once he arrived at the college, he’d throw up from a combination of nerves and hunger then go take his test. After the test he’d rush home to collapse in bed for 8-12 hours. I remember many nights coming home to what-seemed-to-be an empty apartment. But then I’d hear the faint sound of Bieber’s “Girlfriend” coming from Dr. Handsome’s room and realize Dr. Handsome was in his room, recovering from the previous night’s rage against the textbook.

Jimi, in their past living situations, saw Dr. Handsome’s studies as the perfect opportunity to mess with Dr. Handsome. He recalled his failed attempts to distract Dr. Handsome with a triumphant smile.

“You can’t interrupt him,” Jimi said. “I mean, unless you physically go and touch him and move his books, he won’t move. He probably would’ve hit me if I did that. But, otherwise, he can’t be distracted. He just lays there on his stomach, turning pages.”

I smiled, listening with some disbelief.

“I used to stand at his door and call his name for fifteen minutes straight. He’d just keep reading. Once, I sat in his room and just bounced a ball, waiting for him to ask me to stop. Still, he wouldn’t flinch. If you don’t believe me you can try it.”

“Yeah, alright Jimi.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, though.”

I should’ve seen it coming. Jimi began his antics shortly after we moved in together, but this time they were directed at me. Recalling how Jimi told me about when he used to bug Dr. Handsome, I approached Dr. Handsome to figure out how he dealt with Jimi’s nonsense.

“Dude, I can’t keep dealing with this,” I told him. “He comes into my room while I’m sleeping and just starts talking to me. The other day he came in, turned my light on, and started talking. I woke up and gave him a dirty look.

“Then he was like, ‘Oh, my bad. Were you sleeping?’ How did you deal with this shit?” I asked.

Dr. Handsome smiled. He was almost as amused that Jimi had gotten to me as Jimi himself.

“You’re probably not gonna like this answer, but you just have to ignore him. You can’t let him know he’s bothering you. That’s exactly what he wants.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, but I’ll try.”

I didn’t like Dr. Handsome’s advice, but I was going to give it a shot anyway. I also unscrewed my lightbulb from the ceiling to make it a little more difficult for Jimi to bother me. This seemed to motivate him more. Since he couldn’t just open my door and flip the light on, he’d come in and stand in my room, saying my name until I responded. This lasted for a few days but I stuck with the ignoring strategy and that, too, further motivated Jimi.

After a couple days of ignoring Jimi, he finally pushed me far enough to provoke retaliation. The funny thing is, this last nudge may not have been one hundred percent intentional. On most occasions I’d be napping after work and he’d come in around six or seven PM to wake me up. But this night was different. He’d already woke me at the usual time and I revealed I was upset, but didn’t say anything.

Later-on that night, I woke up to my door creaking open. I looked up to see what it was and saw Jimi peak in, then walk back down the hall. Still pissed from earlier that night, I began brainstorming ways to get him back. It came down to either confronting him the next day, or vindictive revenge. I chose the latter.
First, I waited about a half hour to try to let him get back to sleep. Usually I’d fall back asleep and not worry about it, but for some reason I couldn’t let it go. I was full of self-righteous indignation. He had no right to wake me in the middle of the night. How dare he! I thought. Once this time passed, I went into the living room and turned the lights on. In most apartments, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but in our apartment this room was located just outside Jimi’s bedroom. He was fast asleep and the light didn’t wake him so I turned the TV on to a channel with white noise and turned it up just loud enough to disturb him. Then I sat on the couch and put my headphones on so I wouldn’t have to listen to the fuzzy channel.

At first Jimi just layed in bed, trying to ignore my provocation. After fifteen minutes to a half hour he couldn’t ignore me any longer and started saying my name, trying to get my attention. I didn’t flinch, pretending my headphones were too loud to hear him.

Laughing on the inside, enjoying the Fugazi in my headphones, I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around, already aware of who it was.

“Oh, hey Jimi. What’s up?”

“Zack, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Can you go in your room?”

I agreed, but with hesitance, upset he wasn’t showing a reaction and that our tension hadn’t actually been resolved.

“Jimi, can you just not wake me up when I’m sleeping anymore?” I asked before entering my room.

“What, are you angry?” Jimi asked, his anger increasing the volume of his voice.

“Well, yeah, kind-of.”

“Alright. Then let’s fight,” he said, taking his long-sleeve off.

My fight or flight response kicked in and I had an adrenaline dump.

“What?” I asked. “I don’t want to fight you.” My body was trembling. Jimi was my friend and I didn’t want to fight him because of that, but I had an even bigger motivation to avoid fighting him: he would’ve kicked my ass.

“Don’t ever come out here again and try to fucking wake me up,” he yelled.

I went to my room and sat in my bed, shaking. The adrenaline made it so I couldn’t sleep. About an hour later Jimi knocked on my door and came in to apologize. “I haven’t been getting much sleep,” he said. “I’m really sorry, though. I should’ve never tried to fight you.”

I told him it was alright. I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t angry at him at all, I was loathsome of myself. His reaction was perfectly human, and I deserved it. All this time we’d spent nagging one another, letting our unhappiness express itself in passive aggression, increasing the tension within our friendship, and he finally let that tension burst. He finally confronted the situation the way I should have when he first started bothering me. Instead I tried to hold in my reactions, thinking it would go away. But of course, like any other problem you ignore, it didn’t go away. It just built up and became something bigger than it ever was.

I should’ve fought him. I should’ve let him beat my ass. Sorry, Jimi.

Live and let learn I guess.

Twitter.