(Note: as I sit here in limbo, waiting for Jaime Durr to finish up with Sammy Hagar and Chickenfoot so I can put the final touches on my album, I'll be posting about other stuff -- diaper changes allowing.)
Apple’s Ping is a dud, as near as I can tell. And why not? It’s a social media island, an impressive feat given how interconnected everything is today, especially in music. I don’t know whose fault this is — Apple’s or Facebook’s — but regardless, without connection to the world’s number one social site, Ping will remain a dud. (Aside: what’s with the name? Ping, to me, means to gently prod someone about something you need, not alert them to something you think is cool.)
What should Apple do to give Ping a boost? Buy Jango. Jango is an Internet radio station that caters to indie musicians by letting them buy plays and be played alongside major artists. You can sign up for Jango as a listener or an artist (via Jango Airplay) and from what I can tell, a lot of both participate. Jango would be especially cool for Apple because it would give iTunes some much needed cred among all the people out there trying to make it in music, trying to be heard and not wanting to feel like little nothings in the vast sea of major labels, which dominate iTunes. Apple would be cool for Jango because 1) being on iTunes would probably lead to more sales for Jango artists, which would, in turn, attract even more artists; 2) Apple’s code jockeys could make Jango look and function like something polished, which would be nice, because right now Jango looks like a hacked together piece of crap, kinda like MySpace, only slightly nicer; and 3) Jango has truly crummy social features -- in fact, I don’t think it has any -- and this is a shame because songwriters and bands love to talk to other songwriters and bands.
I love bandcamp, I really do, but their view of the world is that everyone knows how to write a bit of HTML code and this can SUCK if you are of the HTML illiterate crowd, as I am. So the other day, when I casually thought to myself that I would add an image map to my bandcamp site, enabling the rare passer-by to click on my “blog” in the banner and actually be taken to my blog, instead of having to type the URL into his browser’s nav bar (assuming he knew the URL!), I figured there’d be nothin’ to it. After all, I had Photoshop and Dreamweaver and determination.
Ha.
(I confess, if I’d known how to use Dreamweaver all would have been different, but I don’t, I just own it because Adobe likes to force you to buy suites).
My first effort involved going into Photoshop, slicing the image to map it, exporting the code and pasting it into bandcamp’s “Uses an image map” box for custom headers. Nada. “Why, oh, why, oh, why DIDN’T THAT WORK?” I wailed. Exhibiting signs of insanity, I repeated the process several times, no luck. Then I scoured the Web and bandcamp for help, but all of it just assumes too much knowledge of Code. With great trepidation, I opened Dreamweaver, but quickly shut it. Too powerful, too dark, too evocative of black arts.
I once again scoured the Web and here’s the process I finally pieced together:
1) Create your bandcamp banner image in InDesign or Photoshop or whatever. Once you have it, upload it to bandcamp.
2) Upload your bandcamp image from your computer to photobucket.com (you have to open an account, but it’s free, so it’s no big deal). Once it’s uploaded, copy the “direct link” by mousing over your image.
3) Go to http://www.image-maps.com/. This is a donation-supported service, so you can use it for free, but I paid them $10 because their service is pretty darn valuable. Paste your photobucket URL into “From a URL”.
4) Click “Start mapping your image.” It’s very easy and self-explanatory. Note: the site makes a big deal about changing your “base URL” but I have no idea what the hell that means, so I didn’t do it. Also, as you add URLs, make sure to enter http:// at the beginning of each.
5) On the right hand side of the page, where you select your mapping tool, you’ll see a bunch of stuff listed. Uncheck all except for “allow backlink”.
6) Click “Get your code”.
7) You will get a warning about hosting code. Ignore it. Click on HTML Code along the top nav bar. Copy the code.
8) Go back to your bandcamp site, make sure you’re logged in, click on “Profile”, scroll down to where you see the “Uses an image map” box, check it, paste in your code and hit save and you, my friend, are done.
Hope this helps some people out there! To check out my swanky, image mapped sites, please visit:
As the release date for my album gets closer (I hope), I've redone my Facebook artist page. It's now called Cerebellum Blues, instead of Jeff Shattuck's Songs, and contains tons of photos from all the recording sessions over the past several years, starting in early 2007. There are also photos of other stuff and everything is pretty well organized in albums. There's even a player you can use to listen to some of the tracks I've already posted. To visit the page, just click the little Facebook "F" in the upper right of this blog, right under "Social Stuff." And if you like it, Like it and become a fan (feels weird to ask that, but, well, that's the world today).
PS - If you were a fan of Jeff Shattuck's Songs, and you still want to be a fan, you have to re-like or whatever on the new page. Sorry about this, but I just hated the name Jeff Shattuck's Songs!
PS - As for the FB button at the bottom of this page, it links to my Facebook profile, which is different from my regular page in ways only a brainiac like Zuckerberg can figure out quickly. Me, it's going to take awhile.
People are always saying done is better than perfect. But somewhere between done and perfect lies great — and great is what I am shooting for with my album. So several weeks ago, when Jaimeson Durr, the engineer I’ve been working with since early 2007 on Cerebellum Blues, told me very early in 2011 that he might be unavailable for at least a month starting in late January, I felt a twinge of concern. I had loudly announced my deadline of March 1 to the world and I was a tiny bit worried that even though time seemed ample (considering that we had so little left to do) once I again I would have to move my deadline. We worked fast and furious, but as the end of the month loomed and Jaime’s new commitment suddenly seemed not so far away at all, I began to rush things. And in between calls to the studio, diaper changes, quick visits to the control room, downloads from guitarista Tim Young in LA and stroller rides -- not to mention the creation of a video for a song I wrote welcoming my twin girls to the world -- it hit me: I was about to go with done over great instead of just wait one more month, and suddenly the decision was easy. I would wait. Yet again.
So what’s this big commitment of Jaime’s? The Red Rocker called Jaime and said the session was on. As I said, Jaime had warned me that this might happen. He assisted with the engineering of Sammy Hagar’s first Chickenfoot album and had told me that Sammy was talking about doing another one. The tentative start date was late January of 2011, but since nothing ever happens on time in rock and roll I didn’t worry about it too much. Besides, I was still thinking like a pre-parent when it came to time management. Turns out Sammy is a punctual man and the sessions began Wednesday of last week.
Am I bummed? Not really. I’ve worked so long and hard on this album and I just refuse to be rushed. Plus, I’m super stoked for Jaime. I mean, how cool? Hagar, Joe Satriani, Chad Smith and Michael Anthony? Damn, I hope I can finagle my way into a session (not to play, just to hang out). Back in the ‘70s, I was a huge Hagar fan. His work with Ronnie Montrose rocks to this day (Make It Last, Rock Candy, Bad Motor Scooter, Rock the Nation). And despite all the naysayers about Michael Anthony, who could have been better as a bass player behind Eddie? He was perfect. Chad Smith? ‘Nuff said. And Joe Satriani is a space alien and I have always wanted to meet a space alien.
Further, Cerebellum Blues guitarista Tim Young is headed to Europe for a one month tour with Laura Veirs (she’s killer and you should check her out), so if I had needed any more overdubs from him, we would have had to deal with some tough logistics.
Given all my excuses, I would not be at surprised in the least if some of you out there are thinking that maybe I don’t have an album yet, maybe I keep putting the thing off because in truth I ain’t got much. I understand. So to give you a hint of what’s to come, here is an un-mastered version of a song called “We Tell the Best Lies to Ourselves” (appropriate for me, I think). If you would like to be able to download the song for free, send me an email (use the form to the right) and I will send you an MP3. Free, of course!
I had planned a longer post about this song, but there's just not time! Here's the short story: it was a few months before Amelia and Avalon squalled their arrival to all in attendance, and I was thinking to myself how lame to not have a song for them. And a few days later, the phrase "welcome to the world" popped into my brain and started writing lyrics. But what to say? I mean, the WORLD? It's kinda hard to describe. So I went back in time to when the world was simpler and thought to be made of earth, air, water and fire and grabbed The Maton (all hail!) and a few hours later had the song in time for the birth. I did not have time record it, though, until after the girls showed up, so I had to sing it acapella in the nursery. But now I have a proper version! This one is for Amelia and Avalon. Hope they -- and you -- like it.
WELCOME TO THE WORLD
Say hello to the mountains reaching to the sky Say hello to the valleys stretching far and wide Say hello to the trees home to all the squirrels Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to the rivers, and lakes and streams Say hello to the oceans deeper than your dreams Say hello to the oyster who hides a pearl Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to the breezes cool and warm Say hello to the howl of a winter storm Say hello the birds as their feathers unfurl Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to sunlight from so far away Say hello to fireflies at the end of the day Say hello to everything my two little girls Say hello to mom and dad and welcome to the world
With my album in the final mixing stages (plus needing a teensy bit more recording), I've not had much to post about. But I did write a guest post for another blog, a great one called songwritingscene. The post is about how a technique from advertising helps me write songs. I had a lame title, but Sharon, who writes songwritingscene came up with "A songwriting tip straight from 'Mad Men'," which I love! (Thank you, Sharon!) You can read the post here.
These days, my album is in the final, final stages of production, so I don’t have much to write about with regard to my progress. For all intents and purposes, the album is done. All that remains for me to do is to finish recording a song called Water Under the Bridge and finalize mixing on all tracks. Then it’s off to mastering and replication and... who knows?
So let’s talk about something else... how about investing?
Still with me? Awesome!
I’ve been a bit of a stock geek since 1997, and whenever I bring up the subject of stocks or even finance in general with musicians I know, I am always surprised by how little they know or care or involve themselves in the subject. My blathering about P/E ratios, risk, dividends, load vs. no load mutual funds, etc. all draws blank stares and elicits the tell-tale fidgetiness of the bored. Maybe if all my investing moves had made me super rich, people would be more interested, but they have not. Or maybe it’s that I feel kind of self conscious talking about my successes, whereas I love to describe my failures in bloody detail. Regardless, let me take this opportunity to try to express in the best way possible why musicians (and everybody else, for that matter) should care about investing and what they should know.
Investing? Gawd, how boring. Let’s play some rock!
I disagree, investing is kinda cool, but that’s beside the point. Here’s why you should care:
- If you don’t invest, the best you can ever hope for in terms of thickening your financial cushion is to save as much as possible each month and reap the paltry rewards of bank interest rates (minus fees and other charges). At best, your interest payments will keep your money almost even with inflation; at worse, your money will lose value, a lot of value. Consider: Right now, your best interest rate is going to be about 1%, most likely a lot less. And with inflation running at roughly 3%, every day your money sits in a bank account, it’s losing value. That said, if you’re simply not willing to take the risk of any sort of investing, putting money in the bank is better than nothing. Remember, though, nothing is risk-free, even in the good ol’ U.S. of A.
- If you do invest, you will have to accept some ups and downs, but several decades of data show that you will have a better chance of seeing your money grow if you invest it in stocks and bonds than if you do not. You will also have to be willing to part with your money for awhile and to be willing to the stay the course when the market tanks. It is not easy.
But where should invest? In what? With whom? Can’t we just play some rock?
Luckily, this is easy. Based on the many books I’ve read (see below), there are only a few things you need to know, especially if you would rather rock than parse the mysteries of the market.
1) Invest in index funds. You should choose “no load” funds that offer an expense ratio of less than .5%. Vanguard is by far your best source for such funds. Index funds simply track groups of stocks and are considered passive in that no one is actively picking stocks for you. Over time, index funds consistently beat managed funds (funds in which a money manager actively buys and sells individual stocks and/or bonds).
2) Diversify. In other words, don’t buy all tech stocks or all oil. Also, don’t put all your eggs in the US basket. My suggestion is would be to allocate some money to other parts of the world (there are index funds and ETFs that let you do this).
3) Talk to a financial planner (someone who will help you set goals and educate you on how to reach them) and who charges by the hour and NEVER hire a financial manager (someone who will invest your money for you). No financial manager worth squat will be available to you unless you have $30 million or more to invest, and even then, I wouldn’t do it.
4) Above all, do not try to time the market and do not buy individual stocks UNLESS you are willing to devote a lot of time to your efforts. If you can’t read a balance sheet, can’t be bothered with stuff like P/E ratios, PEG, P/S ratios, yield, cash per share, debt per share and on and on and on and on, STAY AWAY FROM THE THE CASINO OF INDIVIDUAL STOCKS. And it is a casino, more fun than Vegas, I think, and more dangerous because you are playing with real money (if you’re not investing at least $1000 per stock, forget it, your transaction costs (costs per trade as a percentage of your total trade) will be too high.
5) For a service, call Vanguard. Don’t bother with anyone else, I’m very serious about this.
Further reading.
If you are willing to head my advice and buy only index funds through Vanguard, there is only one book you should read. It’s called The Wall Street Self-defense Manual: A Consumer's Guide to Intelligent Investing, by Henry Blodget, and it will make you feel very, very good about your decision to pursue a passive investment strategy based on low-cost index funds. Henry Blodget is a crisp, clear, entertaining writer who speaks from experience and from the heart (cynical, though it may be). Follow Henry’s advice and be done with it. Spend your time writing songs, practicing, reading about the music business -- not picking stocks.
Also, remember, you are the best investment you can make. Invest your time and money in things you think will earn you a return on your dreams (gear, studio time, travel, a wedding ring for your significant other, fitness, etc.).
Below, is an abbreviated list of the books I’ve read on investing. Only consider reading them if you are willing to become like me (not recommended): more than a little obsessed with stocks, willing to pay for good research (Next Inning and Motley Fool Stock Advisor are the only two I can personally recommend, but beware, The Motley Fool will BURY you with marketing spam and lots of other shit, very off-putting, but their advice is good, I think) and checking stock prices on your phone several times a day when the market is open.
The Snowball, by Alice Schroeder The best book written, so far, on the greatest investor in history. Main thing you’ll learn: you’re not Warren Buffett -- and probably don’t want to be.
Fooled By Randomness, by Nassim Nocholas Taleb I don’t think I finished this, it’s awfully technical (for me). Main thing you will learn: the patterns that Wall Street claims to see are not patterns at all, but random series of events.
The Black Swan, by Nassim Nicholas Taleb I read this pretty fast, but was annoyed the whole way through by Taleb’s smug arrogance and shitty writing. Main thing you will learn: the thing no expects will happen, happens.
The Warren Buffett Way, by Robert Hagstrom I read this when I first started investing and it remains a solid read, but... Main thing you will learn, you should have read The Snowball instead.
Buffett, by Roger Lowenstein Considered to be the definitive book on Buffett. Main thing you will learn: The Snowball is the definitive book on Buffett.
Reminiscences of a Stock Operator, Edwin Lefevre Great fun and packed with the amazing language of time long gone. Like watching an old movie. Main thing you will learn: you can make a LOT of money as an obsessive stock watcher; you can also lose a lot and if you can’t deal with it, you shouldn’t bother with the whole game.
Investing. The Last Liberal Art, by Robert Hagstrom Being a liberal arts major, I had to read this and I am glad I did. Main thing you will learn: investing can truly be a liberal art, as you seek to learn about all sorts of things (concrete usage in China, advances in nuclear power, Moore’s Law) and draw parallels and conclusions that lead you to purchase certain stocks or ETFs.
The Zurich Axioms, Max Gunther A blast to read but dangerous. Main thing you will learn: there’s no such thing as investing, it’s all speculation. Also, play for meaningful stakes, and you will only really learn anything when you bet real money.
Mad Money, Jim Cramer A disorganized, unpersuasive tome of tripe. Main thing you will learn: JIm Cramer is good at selling books.
The Essay’s of Warren Buffett, by Warren Buffett A collection of the annual letters written by Buffett to Berkshire hathaway shareholders. Main thing you will learn: Buffett can write clearly and well about deeply complex stuff, making it all seem quite clear -- if still a bit over your head.
The Intelligent Investor, by Benjamin Graham Benjamin Graham taught a young Warren Buffet about investing and Buffett has called this book “the best book on investing ever written.” Main thing you will learn: it’s not about making money, it’s about preventing loss. Plus, investing “intelligently” is mind-bendingly hard work.
Against the Gods: The Remarkable Story of Risk, by Peter L. Berstein Making money in the stock market and countless other markets, is basically all about how much are you willing to risk and what’s it worth to you based on your assumptions of what you could earn should things pan out the way you expect. This incredible book tells the tale of how people learned to measure and control (to some extent) risk. Main thing you will learn: the whole concept of risk management is new and remains a very, very thorny problem.
I’ve been debating with myself out loud on this blog whether or not to charge for my album when I finally release it. Thanks to many killer komments, my thoughts on the whole subject of free are much more clear.
In the big picture of the music industry, I think free should be a choice, which it is today. As an artist, you can choose to charge or not, and as a listener, you can choose to pay or not. My struggle is with the second half of this, but I agree with those who say that controlling music theft is kind of like trying to legislate the weather. It is, indeed, a tough problem and it’s possible that the total cost of an effective solution would be too high -- both in terms of money and to society. I have to think about this more, but that’s another post. As is copyright. Personally, I’m for copyrights and patents, but I do think the system could be improved. Again, though, another post.
Right now, I just want to focus on where I’ve netted out. First, my plan:
- release the album on bandcamp, iTunes and Amazon, but only really personally promote the bandcamp option - use email, Facebook and Twitter for base promotion, possibly hire a service for something more effective (anyone have any suggestions?) - on bandcamp, charge $5 for a digital download, $6 (plus $2) for the physical CD, which I think is a good deal, because I will be releasing 14 songs - the album will be free to listen to on bandcamp, but if you buy it from BC and change your mind, I will give you your money back (gotta work out the details of this still...) - use free songs as a promotional tool to drive album sales (still thinking about this, but maybe choose 3 songs and offer to give them away during limited periods of time, mulling) - continue with Soundcloud, join Taxi and open my VERY thin Rolodex in order to try to get some licensing deals - down the road, think of a “special edition” idea...
And there you have it.
As for free as a subject, here is where my thinking currently stands for me personally (not a touring or even performing act)::
PROS - there would be no barriers to people getting my music and passing it along - would promote impulse buys, always good on the ‘net, where people’s attention spans are short - my generosity might inspire people to return the favor with some loyalty and interest
CONS - would make me feel like the work I’ve done -- and the work others have done for me -- isn’t good enough to charge for (purely emotional, I know, but still...) - I want the contract of a paid purchase, I want to feel extra obligated and appreciative because someone paid me, and I want people to feel like they can come back to me with praise of criticism and feel fully justified either way, free (to my mind) would not promote this - if I start with free, where do I go? By charging, at first, I can use free as a promo tool more effectively, I think
Overall, I’ve decided that the cons outweigh the pros. For other musicians, things might be different, but this is where my head currently sits (as well as atop my neck).
Not too long ago, I posted about my plan to give my music away. Then, several sharp, persuasive comments convinced me to change my plan and charge for my music, using free as a promo tool only. I remain committed to this new plan, in fact more than ever, for reasons outlined here and, frankly, because I think free costs too much.
First, free can cost you credibility. Consider: if I were to send out a note to everyone on my mailing list saying my album is available for free, people would rightfully wonder how good the record was. And before even pressing play, their perception would be tainted.
Second, free can cost you the potential of strong relationships. I say this because if I simply give you something and you simply take it, our relationship is going to be very fragile, to say the least. In fact, the only bond we might have is guilt, in that you feel a little guilty for having simply taken my music, and I feel guilty for not having had more confidence in myself to charge for it. Worse, there’s no contract of any sort. There’s no obligation for me to go above and beyond for you personally, and there’s no obligation or motivation for you to stick with me. And our relationship will not strengthen with time. (As an aside, I think about this with a lot of Web services. I wish more charged, I want that relationship/contract, I want to be able to say, “Hey, fix this, I’m paying you” and I want them to say, “Hey, fix that guy’s problem, he’s paying us, and while you’re at it, what can we do about our user interface, it kinda sucks.)
Third, free can cost you your future. If I just give away my work, how long can I afford to do that? Obviously, if I’m independently wealthy or have a job that showers money on me (neither of which is the case), I’m going to have to fund my music completely by working at something else. And though this is what I have done to date and will continue to do, it wears on my motivation, not to write songs, but to record them and bring them to their full potential. Obviously, if I were using free music to draw people into gigs and toward “merch”, there would be a method to the madness. But I’m not a live act and never will be, so my concert and merch potential is slim to none.
There are other reasons I think free is expensive, but these are the main ones. Does anyone out there wish to add / subtract / agree / disagree? Please weigh in, if you have a “free” moment!
On this first day of 2011, I’m thinking a lot about 2010, and in an odd way I think the whole past year was summarized in one, swift hour on December 29, 2010, which was the final time I entered Hyde Street Studio C for the year.
The original purpose of the session was for Jaime to mix two of the final three songs for the album, so I wasn’t even going to attend, but at the last minute, I decided to use a small portion of the session to try some harmony ideas on one of the songs Jaime was going to mix. Josh Fix had layered up some beautiful backing vocals for a song called Happiness, but I wanted to add to his melodies a little bit, plus roughen things up a touch. One of my favorite aspects of the Rolling Stones up until Exile was Keith Richard’s harmony singing. His high, reedy voice and imprecise delivery coupled with near perfect pitch absolutely makes songs like Sweet Virginia, Honky Tonk Women, Torn and Frayed and many, many others. Well, I lack the perfect pitch thing, but high and reedy I can do, so I had Jaime set up a mic for me and I belted my parts to the very, very best of my ability. I came close enough to being on key that Jaime could Autotune me a touch and all sounded good.
So that’s how Keith Richards factored into the session, but what about all the other people I mention in the title? Well, Jennifer Moss was my acupuntcurist for several months after my accident, and my sessions with her yielded some of my only comfortable moments in those early, post-injury days. She also got me to thinking about meditation, which I now do and I am convinced helps me. Deborah Burkman is the woman who patiently taught my stumbling, prone-to-vomiting self yoga for over a year, starting several months after my brain injury. Hard as it was, yoga with Deborah helped me with movement and mood. (She also introduced me to Larkin Gayl, who sings Here Comes The Weather, on my album. More on this in a later post.) Yuri Danilov is the neuroscientist who worked on my brain for three summers in a row out in Madison, Wisconsin, starting in 2007. His ideas and guidance helped me to improve much more rapidly than I would have otherwise, of that I am positive. Gayl Link runs the San Francisco Institute for Hyperbaric Medicine, where I underwent two lengthy sessions of treatments (one for two months, and one for one month), after which my twitchiness subsided and, according to many people, helped me to give off an aura of better health. Catherine, of course, is my wife and has been the greatest help of all to me since my accident (and before, although I may not have appreciated it). And Amelia and Avalon are my twin girls, who have profoundly altered my sense of purpose in life, for the better.
And so, as I entered Hyde Street, all these people were with me in spirit -- the rocker, the healers and the family -- and it is because of them I was able to get through my session in less than hour (had to get back home to the kids!), without getting sick and ruining the rest of my day. Every other time in the past that I have sung with any gusto at Hyde Street (or even at home) I have paid the price of not feeling well for whatever remained of the day and often gotten a migraine. Sometimes, a little singing would put me out for two or three days. But not on the 29th of 2010. Finally, all my efforts and the efforts of those who have helped and inspired me paid off.
Thank you to all of these people -- and many others -- for it is because of you that I am entering 2011 with renewed hope. Hope that I will be able to be a good parent and husband. Hope that I will continue to create music I’m proud of. Hope that I will finally return to full-time work. And hope that I might just recover fully.
Recently, I posted about how I was going to give in to the culture of free (my term for today’s music landscape in which which people believe music should not cost a dime) and not charge people to download my songs. But comments from readers, plus a few emails, started to change my mind. A commenter named Bret put it especially succinctly when he wrote:
“If you allow free downloads now, it'll be tough to change your mind and sell it later. If you sell it now, it's easy to have free downloads later if you change your mind. If you have any doubt, sell it now.”
Dave Tutin also weighed in with a great thought, “why buy what you already have for free?”plus a much more detailed argument via email.
But most important, my decision, made only hours ago, to say screw the culture of free came down to sixteen reasons. Wait, not reasons, 15 people and one place, and they are pictured above. They are (left to right):
Row 1) Hyde Street Studio C, Andy Korn, Toby Germano, Josh Fix Row 2) Jaime Durr, Sam Bevan, MIke Northcutt, Elliot Randall Row 3) Scott Seiver, Tim Young, Eryn Young, RodDammit Row 4) Larkin Gayl, Dave Brogan, Jeff Tuttle, Heather Combs
I’ll write more about Hyde Street and each one of these musicians in later posts but suffice it to say I could not have made near the album I think I’ve made without these people and the mojo of Hyde Street, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to assign a value of zero to the result of all this.
And so, screw the culture of free. And to hell with having more people hear my music, which I figured would be the case if I did not charge for it. I would rather have fewer listeners who really like the music than more (a big a assumption, by the way) who just grab it because they can.
Even with two new babies in the house, relatives visiting and a few social events, I have still found time to reflect a bit on my music project over these past few weeks. And I’ve made some decisions.
When I first started my album project back in 2007, I had hopes of covering about half my costs through music sales, and when bandcamp launched, it seemed I might actually be able to reach this goal, as bandcamp was free and let artists keep 100% of every dollar of sales revenue. I figured I would price my album at $10 and sell about 1000 over the course of a year. Presto, 10 grand and a large portion of my recording costs taken care of.
Then my costs kept rising, then CD sales fell off a cliff, then piracy rose, then it became culturally okay to simply take the music you liked from wherever your could find it, and on and on and on.
So I began to draw up a new plan. And as I worked on it, one question became more important than all others: did I want people to hear my music or buy it? I opted for the former. Once that was settled, I revisited the ugly topic of money. Given the small fortune I’m spending to make this album, earning some money from it would certainly be nice. But how? After much gnashing of neurons, I’ve decided to pin my hopes on licensing (film, TV, advertising, other musical acts, anybody!). And in order to ensure that my music has the greatest possibility of being heard by potential licensees -- and everybody else -- I’ve decided to let people download it for FREE from bandcamp. Yes, free. As in free. Meaning the exact same as free. I will also offer a physical CD, which will be priced at $5 on bandcamp with the option to pay a little more for those so inclined, and there might be a package that includes a CD and a T-Shirt (not sure on this, working on details). I will also distribute the album worldwide via iTunes and Amazon, where no one will buy it, but it will be there, dammit!
Before I set this plan in stone, I will meet with an entertainment attorney to make sure I’m not fundamentally screwing anything up, but I suspect all will be cool.
One last thought: I titled this post “giving into the culture of free” but there is another way to look at this that’s far more positive. In my other life -- advertising -- back when I first tried to get a job, I offered to do writing projects for nothing and I offered to intern for nothing, and I spent a small fortune on my spec portfolio. It was all a coordinated effort to be heard, to be given a chance, to show people what I could do before demanding anything from them. And it worked. I got more than a job, I got a career. Now, as I embark on the final first steps of my musical career, I’m hoping that giving to get will once again pay off. Even if it simply means being hear by a lot of people, and not over Jango but over their own iPods/Pads etc.
Amelia and Avalon were born at 33 weeks and 3 days (auspiciously similar to 33 ⅓, the speed of vinyl) and as early girls, both had to stay at the hospital for a bit. As of yesterday, though, they are both home!
As preemies (I hate that term), their highest risk was lung development, as they were born right on the cusp of when their lungs could breathe air, but piercing cries at birth confirmed that both had healthy lungs and pipes. Still, there were many other things to be concerned about, so straight to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) they went. Catherine and I followed, me right after the birth, her a little later that night, and every day thereafter since December 5 we would show up at 8:00 AM and stay until 6:00-ish (I confess, I missed a few days because of headaches, but only a few).
Amelia and Avalon were kept in isolettes for several days, limiting our ability to touch them and comfort them, but these girls must have some special ops DNA from Catherine’s side of the family (my brother in law is Navy SEAL) and soon they were placed into regular bassinets. Sadly, the feeding tubes and sensor cords kept them tethered for several more days, but in time, the nursing staff would let the girls go wireless, or Wi-Fi as we liked to call it, which was a massively positive change. Then one night, Amelia pulled out her feeding tube and it never had to go back in (a little Joan Jett in her along with those SEAL genes maybe?). Not too much longer, Avalon’s feeding tube was removed and visits to the NICU started to feel strangely comfy, as we could hold the babies without the usual spaghetti of wires connecting them back to annoying, beeping monitors.
Oddly, at no time in the NICU did I ever feel worried for our babies. Sure, they were small, but you could just tell by looking at them that they were going to be fine. And sure enough, they are and now they’re home -- ahead of schedule (Christmas was considered very ambitious by the docs). In fact, I’m the one that’s late, with Welcome to the World, the song I wrote for the babies, still in the production process!
Amelia was first to escape (figures!), then, just a few days later Avalon busted out, too, and both were met at the front of the hospital by me. Catherine carried them so no one would get too suspicious. (In the photo, Amelia is on the right, Avalon the left.
As every songwriter knows, writing songs is revealing. Sometimes you’re revealing something about yourself, sometimes people in general, sometimes a fictional character who acts as a stand in for you or a friend, sometimes a combination of all these and more. When I was younger and single I worried very little about what my songs revealed about me, as there was no one in my life I was overly pre-occupied with. Later, serious girlfriends started to change that, then marriage and now children. And for the first time ever, I am thinking about my songs through the ears of my kids. Sure, they’re too young now to understand lyrics or even tell music from noise, but someday they will be highly adept at both and when they hear my songs what will they think? If I write a song about a relationship gone bad, will they worry about me and mom? If I write about drugs, will they think I take them? If I just write about being unhappy will they blame themselves for making me so?
If anyone out there knows of good books on this subject (artists as parents) I would very much appreciate some suggestions. Or even a quote or two. Plus, the author does not have to be a songwriter, any old artist will do.
The other day, I posted a response to Bobby Owsinski’s Six Reasons Why The Album Format Died, and I closed by promising to post some reasons of my own, most of which I thought I had pretty well figured out. Then some insightful comments popped up and changed my point of view a bit. But first, a little post pre-amble (I should have written this before my earlier post).
When I think of albums, I think of vinyl and I always will. When I was growing up, buying albums -- wait, let’s call a spade a spade, RECORDS -- buying records was a ritual I thought would never die. Tower Records was like Norney’s, Montgomery Ward, Great Western Bank. It was a cultural fixture in my town, everlasting.
All of my friends were into music and pilgrimages to Tower were frequent and revered. Tower was my Candyland. To Bobby O’s point, I loved browsing the bins and if I bought something, the more liner notes the better. Reading record packaging while listening to the music that came from within became to me like reading cereal boxes at breakfast when I was a little kid. And now, with two kids of my own, I’m wondering what’s around today that we all just take for granted but won’t be around tomorrow (Microsoft springs to mind, but that’s another post).
But for all the glory that was Tower Records and vinyl there were downsides, to be sure. First, you could not hear the album before you bought it, save for whatever was on the radio. Second, the quality of vinyl slipped every year, going from thick virgin vinyl to vinyl made from ground up unsold records. Third, you often placed your brand new record on the turntable only to see that it was warped, but if you tried to take it back and exchange it, your chances weren’t that good. Fourth, there were plenty of records released with only 2 or 3 good songs, and if you wanted to take those records back, forget it. Fifth, vinyl was delicate, as were turntables and needles and tone arms. I had all the gear -- Discwasher, ZeroStat, special sleeves that would not react with the vinyl, but still, I would leave a record in a sunny window on occasion, spill something on one, forget to put the dust cover back down on my turn table and on and on.
So even though records were a fixture in my life, their faults made me receptive to something new. And lo and behold, the CD arrived. Sure, CD’s cost more, but they were “defect free”, never dusty, forever flat (although leaving them in the sun was still lethal). Even better, because of their size, CD’s let record stores stock bigger collections. Best of all, the CD’s longer record time meant cool add-ons, like “easter egg” songs hidden in the end, alt. takes, live tracks and more. Most important, you could skip around easily -- either manually or automatically. To me, this was a a godsend, as I have always been a chronic needle hopper and short on patience. And as the CD displaced vinyl (and cassettes), I thought good riddance.
But there was a price way beyond retail that this new format exacted. Little did I know it, but the CD would change the music business forever, and not always for the better. And one of its victims would be the record store. Because once music was digitized, it could be distributed without any physical media required, save for a hard disc drive at both ends, and now Tower records is gone. Hell, the whole ritual of browsing a record store is gone and I am sad for that. Every time I turn onto Columbus Avenue in SF right at Bay Street and see a laundromat instead of Tower I feel a twinge of sadness. It gets easier as the years go by, but in the death of Tower I lost a piece of me and it’s one more reminder that nothing is everlasting.
Okay, I know that wasn’t really about the album, but I wanted to put down those words so that anyone reading this post would know what records meant and still mean to me. But I think all this talk of the album dying as a format is way premature. In fact, I think artists will continue to make albums because it’s practical. Not very romantic, I know, but think about it, the music business for most bands is a circle: record, tour, rest, record, tour, rest, etc. (And for many bands, the rest bit never happens.) It’s done this way for the obvious reason that you can’t doing everything at once, there has to be a sequence. Plus, albums are efficient. You gather up all the players you need, you go into the studio, you focus like mad and create/record music with minimal distractions. To gather up all the required resources for recording in order to do just one song is somehow ludicrous (although, I confess, I have been guilty of such behavior!). More important, it’s not sustainable. No one can afford to make music one song at a time. But what about buying music? Well, that’s a different story, and here’s where the divergence is taking place. Bands are still making albums, because it’s the most efficient way to create music, but consumers are buying ( to Chaco’s point in the comments on my last post) what they’ve always really wanted: singles. And this is a tough problem, because bands are producing something that needs to sell for about $10 but consumers are buying something that needs to sell for less than a buck, if it even sells at all, given the rise of music theft. As a result, the album is not being killed, it’s being zombified, forced to rise into a world that doesn’t really want it.
What to do? I don’t know. Maybe Dave Tutin’s comment about packaging holds the answer. I mean, why not think up a whole new packaging format for CD’s? Why not have the CD be held in something the size of record, or maybe a standard hardcover book, but thinner? Maybe that’s a business opportunity for someone with a little extra cash to pursue. Regardless, times have changed and will continue to change and whatever happens down the road will be replaced faster and faster. As I said in my song for my new baby girls, “Welcome to the World”!
There’s a good music blogger I follow named Bobby Owsinski, and the other day he posted his six reasons on why he thinks the album format died. I commented, but Bobby seems to be one of those bloggers who only posts comments he wants to post (all are moderated by him), so my carefully thought-out counterpoints to his points remain suspended somewhere on the ‘net. But I figure, well, if Bobby won’t share my thoughts, I will! So here they are:
1) Bobby says:It was a visual experience. I say, “I don't see it that way.”
Booby talks a lot about how albums were so much more visual than CDs and while he he has a point, it’s only true for vinyl, not cassettes, which outsold LP vinyl in the end.
2) Bobby says: It was an informational experience too. I say, “True, but see the information above.”
Plus, what about the most important information of all, the music?
3) Bobby says: The demise of the record stores. I say, “Huh?”
Bobby talks about the visual experience of browsing in a record store and how you could see all these albums. Um, last I checked, I want to hear music not see it, and there were many times I bought albums that looked cool only to get them home and hate them. And since record stores would not take albums back, I was stuck. In their last decade of popularity, they made a half-assed effort to let you listen to music before you bought it, but selection was limited, headphones either broke or greasy and seating uncomfortable. No, the death of record stores did not kill albums, it just got rid of a bad business model/approach.
4) Bobby says price. I say, “Dude, ever heard of inflation?”
Bobby cites prices of $3.98 and then a gradual rise as record companies consolidated and, well, it sucks, but that’s what happens. Besides, what’s 1975’s $3.98 in 2010 dollars? $16.19.
5) Bobby says the CD. I say, “You gotta be kidding me.”
Bobby laments that the CD’s extra length over vinyl created too much filler and this made people feel ripped off and disappointed. Maybe, but the total number of good songs on an over-stuffed CD was probably about the same as a decent album. Plus, let’s not forget all the alt-takes CDs allow!
He closes by talking about the arrival Napster and the return full circle of the music business from singles to albums to singles. All in all, I’m not buying much of it, save for the afterthought about Napster. In my opinion, albums are dying, true, but not for the reasons Bobby cites. I’ll post more tomorrow or the next day about why albums are really dying and what that statement even means.
In the meantime, we're bringing Amelia home from the hospital tonight, so I have work to do. Her sister will be chauffeured home tomorrow, fingers crossed!
I've made gallery of some baby pix for this blog. To see it, please click here.
Update: Amelia and Avalon were born a bit early -- 33 weeks and 3 days -- but they have made rapid progress under the care of UCSF's ace nursing staff. Avalon still has a feeding tube up her nose (not nearly as fun as a booger, I am sure) but Amelia, thought to be quiet one, ripped her feeding tube out last night and fed like an an activist for Keep America Obese! Catherine and I are both very pleased with this rebellious behavior (that'll change, I am sure!) and we're hoping Avalon follows her sister's example. Our goal is to have them both home by Christmas.
Musically, I have been pretty inactive, but I am still working hard on recoding Welcome to the World, the song I wrote for the girls. As of today, everything is recorded, except vocals, which will be done by my friend Jeff Tuttle up in Minneapolis. He just got his new MBox 3 last night, so Jaime will send him the session file and we'll soon be done -- save for a little mixing. Can't wait.
The early arrival of Avalon and Amelia, born to Catherine and me on December 5, nearly a month ahead of schedule, has changed things a bit. When I got the call that Catherine’s water had broken, I was out running and mulling how to fix my song Water Under The Bridge for the third time. Seconds later, thoughts of Water had left my brain, flooded by thoughts of water, as in broken water, as in The Babies Are Coming. Now.
To be honest, within days, I was, in the very back of my mind, starting to formulate a plan to finish my album on schedule, but yesterday I realized how foolish such thoughts were. The new deadline is February 1, 2011. Why not January? Or even very late December? Easy. I have spent so much time on these songs — in fact, they are my first ever labor of love, a labor that commenced over three years ago in the aftermath of an accident that I vowed to let change me from a catatonic career-obsessive into someone more engaged with the world — and I will not allow three years to come down to a few days. Further, why release an album at a time when everyone is stressed and distracted by the holidays or recovering from said holidays? No, I’m going to wait until people are back in their groove to try out my grooves.
I realize I’m like the boy who called, “Rock!” But this new deadline is serious. It gives me ample time to finish a few last things (ASCAP registration, copyright, song order, album design, CD replication, marketing plan, etc.), which a too-tight deadline would not and which I would just move anyway. So, stay tuned!
(Next: an update on the girls, who are doing really, really well and were released from their incubators into regular bassinets last night!)
On December 8, 2010, just two days after my wife, Catherine, gave birth to our twin girls, Avalon and Amelia, I was in the recording studio. Say WHAT? It’s true, the rock must roll, so, though I only stayed for about 2 hours, there I was cranking up a Strat and going over four new songs with The King of Thump, Andy Korn. Andy and engineer Jaime Durr were still getting sounds when I arrived about noon, but after sharing a few thoughts on parenthood (Andy and Jaime both have daughters!), we unloaded a guitar and Andy and I worked through changes, talking about beats and trying out various ideas. We also played a little bit of Tumbling Dice, just because, and then I was out the door, back home to pick up Catherine and her mom, who (THANK GOD) is staying with us to help out and then back to the hospital to hang with the twins. In my defense, one of the songs being recorded on the 8th was Welcome to the World, which I wrote for Avalon and Amelia, but I confess, the other three songs were Cold Pizza and Coffee, which is about being hungover, People Change, about relationships ending and Undeserving, a song written by me and Dave Tutin, which is about love lost (it’s more complicated than that, though).
On December 5, 2010, two little girls entered the world. They are named Amelia Montgomery (top photo) and Avalon Rose (bottom photo) Shattuck.
They arrived ahead of schedule by several weeks and so remain safely at the hospital, until they are ready to come home. Catherine and I visit them at least twice a day for a few hours at a time to feed them, hold them and, at least in my case, sing country songs to them. Everything is fine, just a little more time needed for some things to finish up developing.
A few months ago, in anticipation of The A-Team’s arrival (so dubbed by a friend!), I wrote a song. The final instrumental tracks are being recorded at Hyde Street Studio C by ace engineer Jaime Durr and the master of thumposity, Andy Korn, as I type this. My friend Jeff Tuttle will sing the song before Christmas, after which I will post it for all to hear. In the meantime, here are the lyrics:
WELCOME TO THE WORLD
Say hello to the mountains reaching to the sky Say hello to the valleys stretching far and wide Say hello to the trees home to all the squirrels Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to the rivers, and lakes and streams Say hello to the oceans deeper than your dreams Say hello to the oyster who hides a pearl Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to the breezes cool and warm Say hello to the howl of a winter storm Say hello the birds as their feathers unfurl Say hello to everything and welcome to the world
Say hello to sunlight from so far away Say hello to fireflies at the end of the day Say hello to everything my two little girls Say hello to mom and dad and welcome to the world
