Music Publishing & Songwriting

Those that can’t do, teach, right? We’ve all heard that one. But would about teachers who did whatever it is that they’re teaching? Or those that are still doing whatever it is, while they’re teaching? They can do and teach, right? Like a living, breathing textbook.

Not exactly.

Anyone who’s taken my course, Music Publishing 101 at Berkleemusic.com, or who has read my book “Making Music Make Money” will know a couple of things. The first is that I was in fact, a songwriter– for about 15 years. The second thing my readers or students will know is that I am still a music publisher. Any weekday, you’ll find me in the office like every other music business weasel– trying to find a way to keep my company’s income, and my writers income flowing in…

Last but not least, if you’ve ever checked out either my course or the book, you’ll know that I can go on forever about the importance of split letters, and catalogue information. Here’s a little quote for you:

“If music publishing is your business, then songs are your assets…not unlike inventory to a store, or airplanes to an airline. And if that’s the case, they should be treated with care. You must know what songs you have OWNERSHIP in, and how much of them you own… And you must establish ORDER within that catalogue, so that each song is properly identified, easily accessible, and part of a coherent cataloguing system”.

The message I try to bring home to songwiters is that by default, you are your own publisher. That means that it’s up to you to make sure you have split letters that define your ownership percentage of the song, and that you’d better have some kind of system for keeping track of what you write, and who you wrote it with. If you don’t do it, no one else can.

Which is why I find my recent experience so incredible. Last week, I received a letter informing me that I was part of a Class Action lawsuit, involving a major television network, and a long-running soap opera, which regularly used a variety of songs in the show. Apparently, back in my previous life, I had written a song that was used in this particular soap opera. This much I vaguely remember.

From the barrage of legalese in the letter, I was able to discern that this soap opera had subsequently failed in some way to properly license the songs featured in the show (hundreds of them, over a decade’s worth of episodes) when the soap opera was eventually syndicated all over the world. Now, all of the writers were getting a big pot of money in the form of a settlement, which would be split up between everyone involved. All I had to do in order to collect my share was provide them some simple information about the song I had in the show.

Oh. That’s all, huh? Except I didn’t even recognize the title of the tune. Nor did I have the slightest recollection of who I might have written the song with. To be fair, it was at least 10 years ago. At least I think it was– I couldn’t remember when I wrote the song either. Or which publisher I was with at the time. In short, I couldn’t recall one single useful piece of information about the song.

But of course, I had written records I could consult. Right? Uh… no. Not only did I not have any kind of comprehensive cataloging system from that time in my writing life– I didn’t even have the music available. All I had were some old DATs, which I couldn’t find– and for which I lacked the all-important DAT player. It appears that my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow will be split among people other than me– people who can actually keep some kind of written records of their business.

Wow. What a role model, right? Pretty embarrassing, especially for someone who teaches Music Publishing 101. But I prefer to think of it as a selfless sacrifice in the name of education. After all the lecturing, what could hammer the point home more effectively than this vivid example of my own stupidity?

This situation is a perfect example of why cataloguing, record-keeping, split letters, and the like are so important. Because 10 years later, 20 years later, even 50 years later, things come up. Lawsuits surface, disputes between heirs of copyrights rear their ugly head, songs are rediscovered and revitalized, or soap operas are sold into syndication. You’ve got to have some paper– because you won’t remember the details.

You can trust me on that.