Music Publishing & Songwriting

Does anyone actually enjoy networking?

Everyone, even people with even a minimal knowledge of the entertainment business, seems to understand the necessity of it. In show business, “it’s not what you know– it’s who you know”, or at least that’s what the old adage says. Most songwriters who’ve actually started to try to make a business out of writing music have quickly learned the need for a circle of contacts and connections. But do most writers enjoy the process of “networking”– trying to meet new people, collecting business cards, hanging out at industry events, persuading friends to introduce you to their contacts? Probably not. It’s not exactly why you got into writing songs, right?

Probably because we spent too many of our formative years locked away in solitude– listening to records, practicing an instrument, or penning heart-wrenching poems of love and longing– most songwriters tend to be loners. Networking is not something that comes naturally. Of course, most of us are perfectly happy hanging out with our friends. That’s something else entirely. Unfortunately, most of us don’t understand that hanging out with our friends can often be the best form of networking that we do.

When I first moved to New York in the 1980’s to become a songwriter and producer, I had the good fortune to come into contact with a small group of other songwriters who were also in the process of launching their careers– the group included Alexandra Forbes (who wrote “Don’t Rush Me” for Taylor Dane),
Shelly Peiken (”Bitch for Meredith Brooks, and “What A Girl Wants” for Christina Aguilera), Jeff Franzel (who has written for everyone from NSYNC to Placido Domingo) and Barbara Jordan (former Berklee faculty and founder of Heavy Hitters Publishing). While none of us were in exactly the same musical style, we were all primarily oriented toward writing the sort of mainstream pop material in vogue at that time.

We all initially got to know each other through what we called “song parties”. We would meet at each other’s apartments and trade leads about who was looking for material, listen to and critique each other’s songs, and of course, trade industry gossip and horror stories. These get-togethers inevitably led to collaborations and friendships, and an ever-expanding network of other writers, musicians, singers, engineers, and record executives.

Before long, a fledgling musical community was thriving. If there were an A&R person that I hadn’t met yet, inevitably an introduction would come through someone else in the group. If someone else needed a recommendation for a demo singer, or some help with an arrangement, I might be able to lend a hand. This doesn’t feel like networking. It’s just what friends do.

Of course, we were all competitors– all chasing after the same cuts, working on the same projects, and cultivating relationships with the same industry contacts. This too is part of being in a community—competition inevitably makes everyone else raise their game.

How well did it work? Interestingly, out of a core group of ten people, at least eight are still working in the industry today. All of those people have had Top Ten hits some have had several. That’s a remarkably high percentage for a group of songwriters chosen at random. And yet, I suspect the averages would be about the same for many of the songwriting groups run by NSAI or others. It’s not that this was such a talented group of people. It’s the fact that when talented people get together, rather than trying to go it alone, it opens up opportunities for all of them. In fact, the song party worked so well that most of us who were part of it remember it as one of the key elements in the development of our careers.

The good news is “song party” is about to get a new twist. Partly at the suggestion of Shelly Peiken, music business veteran Suzan Koc, one of the top publishers in the industry, has launched a new venture, called “Songwriters Rendez-vous”, inspired in part by the “song party” and what it did for that small group of writers in NYC. This time around, the program is based in Los Angeles, and as it’s an actual business (there is a fee to attend), it’s considerably more organized. There are critiques, counseling, industry guests, and more– it’s a 6-week mentoring session, in groups of 12 participants. Check out the website:

As valuable as the technical knowledge is, don’t miss the real point. This is the way networking is done. By meeting 12 other songwriters, you are suddenly part of a songwriting community. You’ll be challenged, helped, inspired and educated by others who are doing similar things, and facing similar obstacles. If you’re lucky, you’ll find some collaborators. If you’re really lucky, you’ll find some friends.

Last night, I went to a party for a friend who was having one of those milestone birthdays. That friend is a very successful writer/producer, and was another of the original “song party” crew. Not surprisingly, the rest of the room was filled with people that I had known for more than 25 years. Despite all the ups and downs of this crazy business, everyone was happy (as much as songwriters or musicians can be), successful, and still making music in one way or another, more than two decades later. Whether or not you know it now, this is the goal.

When you’re younger, it’s easy to get caught up in trying to leapfrog over your peers, or finding that industry “power-player” that will open all the important doors. As you get older, you realize that the best part of surviving or thriving in the industry is the friendships that endure over what is inevitably a journey filled with highs and lows.

Networking won’t make you very many friends. But things like “song party” will– and they’ll give you a network too. There’s strength in numbers, and there’s company and support as well. Don’t miss opportunities like “Songwriters Rendez-vous”, if you want to find your way into the creative community.

I was recently speaking on a panel, when one of the other panelists asked the audience, “How many of you are songwriters?” Not surprisingly, a show of hands indicated that almost everyone was a member of that not-so-exclusive club.

I followed up with another question: “How many of you are music publishers?” Now, the crowd hesitated. One… maybe two hands were raised. I couldn’t let it go at that. “How many of you need a music publisher?” Once again, unanimity prevailed. Every songwriter had decided that he or she needed a music publisher. That’s when I broke them the news:

If you’re a songwriter, you already have a music publisher. You’ve had one for quite some time. In fact, your publisher is your greatest untapped resource, ready to take your assets (that’s your songs) and put them into action (placing them somewhere where they can earn…) to yield income (which is the goal, last I checked).

Newsflash to Songwriters: Your music publisher is… you.

From the minute that you finished your first song, you became not only a songwriter, but also a music publisher. When you write a song, you control the rights to that song and are able to license those rights (which is what a publisher does), until the time when or if you decide to assign your publishing share to someone else.

Every song is divided into a writer share and a publisher share. If you, Joe Songwriter, have written the entire song on your own, then the writer share belongs entirely to you. If you have not made a publishing deal for your share of the song, then the publishing share belongs to Joe Songwriter Music, or whatever you choose to name your publishing entity. When a songwriter asks me how to find a good publisher, I usually say, “Become one.”

That of course, is a little bit trickier. That means work. It means research. Above all it means figuring out the answer to a question that perplexes even many people with years of experience in the music industry: What does a music publisher do?

Music publishers turn music into money. Did that get your attention?

It often takes songwriters by surprise when I point out that songwriting is not, in fact, a business. It’s just something that songwriters do. In the actual course of writing a song, there’s no money changing hands, nor is anything bought or sold. Hours are spent, lunch is ordered, ideas are exchanged and at the end of the day, something exists that never existed before. But it will take someone else to turn that new song into something that generates income. This is the role of the music publisher.

When I titled my book about music publishing “Making Music Make Money”, it was with this fundamental purpose in mind. The basic role of a music publisher is to find every possible opportunity to place the song somewhere it can make money, which is known as “exploitation”. Music publishers control the rights to a song, which means that anyone seeking to use that song in any way, anywhere in the world, must obtain the permission from the music publisher—that permission or “license” usually comes with a price. Publishers make their money not by creating a physical product, as record companies do. Publishers create income for themselves and the writers they represent, by granting “licenses” for the use of the song. Those “licenses” create several different kinds of income streams:

Mechanical Income: From CD sales, digital downloads and other sales from physical product.

Performance Income: Collected through ASCAP, BMI and SESAC for any public performance of the song– on the radio, television, a website or a sports arena, a hotel lobby, an elevator, or a shopping mall.

Sync Income: For any use of music “in synchronization” with a moving picture. That’s old-fashioned lawyer-speak to describe songs that are used in motion pictures, advertisements, television shows, or video games.

Other Income: This includes “reproduction” rights, which includes the right to print sheet music, or lyrics from a song—it also includes everything from uses in greeting cards to toys to karaoke machines.

Anytime you hear or see a song being used, there should be at least one, and often several licenses that have been granted, and which are now generating income for both the publisher and the songwriter.

If all that seems like a good business to you, you’re not the only one. While even major companies like BMG seem to be fleeing the record business, new publishers are sprouting like spring flowers—many of them with seed money from investment banks, hedge funds, and financial institutions. If you’re a wealthy investor, buying a publishing catalogue has become akin to acquiring an Old Master painting.

But there are plenty of opportunities in music publishing for people other than Wall Street financiers. Managers, record labels, studio owners, booking agents or other music entrepreneurs—anyone who has relationships with songwriters and the ability to recognize new talent—should be thinking about starting a publishing entity as a part of their business structure. Given the explosion in music use for ring-tones, YouTube videos, and electronic games, even in the face of falling CD sales, it doesn’t take an economist to figure out that a music publisher is a good thing to be.

Of course, if you’re a songwriter, you already are a publisher. Now, the challenge is learning to be a good one. Education is part of it. Experience is a part of it as well. But the all-important first step is simply understanding and accepting your role, as the one who will create a business out of your own songs. Who needs a music publisher? You do. And now you know where to start looking.

Want to read more about becoming your own music publisher? Click the my book below to read more about it:

Here’s an idea whose time has certainly come:

Music companies have decided to sell music. Not just current music. Not just the hits of the moment. Not just the current hits and the classics. They’ve decided to sell it all.

Turns out that after decades of amassing hundreds of thousands of master recordings– some of them legendary, some serviceable, many of them justifiably ignored, and many of them prized by only a small cognoscenti of music freaks and collectors– the major labels have realized they just might have something of value back there in the archiving warehouse. Something they could sell. Perhaps not something they could sell to a mass contemporary audience, but something that could be sold in small numbers to people who know and love the breadth and diversity of popular music. Given that many current, chart-topping pop releases are selling less than 100,000 units a week, this is most certainly, an idea whose time has come.

EMI and SonyBMG have agreed to pry open the vaults and license their currently out-of-print content to Amazon, through a subsidiary called CreateSpace which specializes in providing on-demand delivery of physical content. Rather than printing up thousands of CD’s of old, hard-to-find recordings and sending them out to record stores, CreateSpace allows the companies to deliver copies based on customer orders. You want that old Hank Mancini soundtrack, or Cake’s “Motorcade of Generosity”? No problem. They’ll make one for you and send it out.

If you’ve read “The Long Tail” by Chris Anderson, then you’re already familiar with the underlying theory. Anderson argues that for too long, the music business has focused on the big hits, while ignoring the money to be made by selling a much wider variety of less-popular, more specialized titles. While I can’t say that I buy into the theory in its entirety (no one’s expecting that the orders for “Motorcade of Generosity” will keep the lights on in the Capitol Records building, or even cover Guy Hands lunch bill), there is certainly some truth in The Long Tail concept. The fundamental truth is this:

The record labels already own the master recordings. They’ve nurtured the artists, paid for the recordings, created the packaging and now they own them. In fact, those recordings are the only things a record company really owns. The office is rented. Employees on their way out will steal the pencils. The primary assets of a record company are (go figure) records. Why not sell them to people that want to buy them?

Once again, record labels seem to be learning something from the music publishing business. Granted, it’s much cheaper and easier for publishers to manage catalogues of thousands of songs than for labels to produce and market thousands of physical albums. But publishers learned long ago that some of those tunes gathering dust in the back of a file cabinet can turn into gold with a little bit of a luck and a timely film or advertising placement. Still, you have to get them out where people can hear them. The beauty of the internet, as well as new methods of manufacturing, is that finding any piece of music, no matter how obscure, need only be a matter of going to amazon.com and checking your mailbox a few days later. If the record companies are willing, the technology is in place.

Of course, music publishers will greet this new label initiative with open arms and open coffers. The numbers may be small initially, but this is an opportunity to suddenly revitalize thousands of old titles languishing in obscurity. New mechanical royalty streams will open up; new people will hear the songs and play them for their friends; new opportunities for film, TV and advertising exposure will invariably arise as forgotten songs and artists are re-discovered.

Of course, a skeptic might call the whole thing nothing more than a record company “fire sale”. Faced with plummeting profits and a major shortage of popular new stars, the labels are now down to selling the family silver. To be sure, record companies need income sources far more significant than those to be had from selling obscure catalogue pieces.

But I say every little bit helps. They say desperate times breed desperate measures. But sometimes those desperate measures are good ones that were long overdue.

To Read More about this Click the Link Below to Read the Article from Digital Music News:

Some careers are so illustrious and varied and full of ups and downs that in themselves they form an almost complete instructional primer in the music industry— Bo Diddley, the singer and guitarist who along with Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis virtually created rock ‘n’ roll, had one of those careers. Having just passed away this week, Bo Diddley continued to perform up until just recently, and his innovations, particularly that signature Bo Diddley beat, will live on far beyond his long and colorful life. If you want to study with a master, here are a couple of things to pick up from the life and times of the legendary Bo Diddley:

1. Rhythm is part of songwriting too.
In a way, it seems strange to point it out– given the rhythmic-orientation of contemporary hit radio. It has become almost impossible to have a major Top 40 hit today with something that doesn’t generate airplay at “Rhythm Radio”, the format that designates what might otherwise be known as pop-urban, from straight-up rap records to hip-hop flavored R&B songs by people like Fergie, Justin Timberlake, Usher, etc.

But there was a time when songwriters were predominately focused on things like melody, harmony, and lyrics, and often neglected rhythmic innovations– and that bias still exists among many aspiring writers. Especially in the singer-songwriter world, as well as for those working in a more adult contemporary style, there is often far to much emphasis placed on things like chord progressions and not nearly enough emphasis placed on matters like tempo and groove. Bo Diddley built an entire career on the creation of one signature beat– a beat that went on to fuel hits like “Bo Diddley” and “Who Do You Love”, but also Springsteen’s “She’s The One”, The Who’s “Magic Bus”, and U2’s “Desire”. In many ways, he is the father of all of the hip-hop-oriented “beat” makers who power today’s contemporary industry, from Timbaland to Danja to Scott Storch and the Neptunes.

2. Songs give character.
Perhaps the greatest gift that Bo Diddley had was that of self-invention. Not only did he create his own beat, he created his own name (and then built a whole song around it), his guitar, his signature sonic sound, and his own character– transforming himself from a young boy from McComb, Mississippi being raised by legal guardians into the sly, funny and supremely self-confident character that the rock ‘n’ roll world all knows as “Bo Diddley”. But part of Bo Diddley’s genius was that he used the lyrics of his songs, beginning with “Bo Diddley bought his babe a diamond ring”, to define himself to his audience.

Too many songwriters forget that for the modern music industry, songs exist primarily to establish artists. One of the most important ways that songs do that is to define their artist– the persona and attitudes contained in the song will forever define the artist who sings them. In light of that function, it’s essential that songwriters learn to think a little bit like screenwriters– trying to create in the lyric not only a story, but also a point of view that will convey to the listener the attitude and persona of the singer. Think of hits like “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, “Skater Boy”, “London Bridge”– they tell you more about the singer and who that artist is than any press release or print advertisement ever could. Or just think about “Bo Diddley” and “Who Do You Love”, and take your cues from there.

3. Beware of the Gimme’s.

Sadly, Bo Diddley’s life also offered some fairly good lessons about the music BUSINESS– most of them fairly harsh, and many of them which still elude most artists and songwriters today. Despite being one of the seminal figures of rock ‘n’ roll, Bo Diddley never made the kind of money that even many of his 50’s peers did– and certainly never made what he felt was commensurate with his contributions. You can almost certainly chalk some of that up to the kind of chicanery that was prevalent in the music business of his era, and indeed, that’s where Bo put most of the blame– particularly on his longtime label, Chess Records.

But there was an interesting quote from Marshall Chess, the son of Chess Record’s founder Leonard Chess, in the book “Spinning Blues Into Gold” by Nadine Cohodas. In answering Bo’s frequent accusations about the underpayment of royalties, Marshall points out “What’s missing from Bo’s version of events is all the ‘gimmes’. ” As a veteran of both sides of the music industry, that rings pretty true.

What Marshall Chess is calling “gimmes” are what the modern industry calls “advances”, or even more dangerously “additional advances”. It seems that Bo Diddley had a habit of borrowing heavily against future royalties, taking money from record company in the form of additional advances to pay for everything from cars and jewelry to tours and equipment. Unfortunately, the record company kept much better track of those “gimmes” than Bo did, and would then subtract all of those advance amounts when the royalty payments finally came due. In the best of times, it would lead to some disappointment when the royalty check that Bo received was smaller than what he expected. In the worst of times, when sales of an album fell far short of what was projected (and what was advanced against), it could lead to financial disaster.

So here’s the final lesson of Bo Diddley, which should be absorbed by writers and artists everywhere:

There’s always a pay-back.

Advances are just loans that must be repaid– the more you borrow, the less you’ll ever see in the way of earnings. When times are good, record labels and publishers are happy to keep the money flowing and to loan you as much as you want– and often, much more than you really need. But when times tighten up again, that money will get paid back, and you could be waiting a long time to see your first royalty check.

Keep that in mind before you go and buy your babe a diamond ring with that new publishing advance.

As Bo Diddley said, “I tell musicians, ‘Don’t trust nobody but your mama. And even then, look at her real good’.”

To Read the More About the Passing of Bo Diddley, Please Click the Link Below:

Having just attended the BMI Pop Awards in Los Angeles, an event so unique and thrilling it’s rivaled only by the ASCAP Pop Awards three weeks before it, and the SESAC Awards, sandwiched in between those two, I couldn’t help but look around the room at the award-winning writers assembled and wonder:

What do they know that the masses of struggling songwriters do not? Why can one writer create four or five BMI-award winning songs, awards that recognize the top-earning songs of the year, while most are hoping just to write one song that someday gets played on the radio?

This is the same question that lies behind my upcoming book, “Hits Only, Please”. I’ve spent the past year interviewing writers, publishers, radio programmers, music marketers and others, trying to understand “What makes a hit song?” and even more importantly, “What makes a hit songwriter?”. What is the key that allows certain songwriters to consistently create “hits”, and to show up on that BMI or ASCAP stage, again and again…

Of course, if I had discovered the magic formula, mine would be a very expensive book. But in interviewing a number of top songwriters, I have found several pretty good hints as to what’s needed to make it to the top of the charts. Here’s just one quick observation to start with:

Hit songwriters WANT to write hits.

Doesn’t everyone? No. In my experience, I’ve found that the majority of songwriters might like to have one of their songs become hits, but most do not actually WANT to write hits. Most songwriters want to write what they want to write, in the way that they want to write it. They are not interested in writing what radio wants or the audience wants. Many of them don’t even think about how their song might fit into a radio format, or which group of people might like their music, or what kind of things appeal to that particular audience. Everything is left entirely to chance, and to the desire for creative expression.

As a songwriter, at some point in your career you must decide what motivates your creativity. Is it a desire for personal expression? Or is it a desire to communicate? They are not the same thing. Expression is an easily attainable goal, and utterly impossible to judge or critique. If you feel you’ve expressed what you want to express, who am I to inform you otherwise? Only you can determine the success of your own personal expression.

However, if your goal is to communicate, you’ve taken on a much larger endeavor. You’ve also attempted something that is considerably more objective. You may feel that you’ve communicated an idea or an emotion quite clearly. But in the end, someone else will be the judge. If I, the listener, don’t understand what you’re saying, or relate to it, then the message was not communicated with success. Like beauty, communication is largely in the eye of the beholder, not the creator.

By and large, hit songs are created by those who have an intense desire to communicate. Hit songwriters have a desire not just to express themselves, but to communicate those ideas to an audience– to reach them, to touch them emotionally, and to entertain them. To that end, they are willing to make their music fit into radio formats and marketing plans. They keep up on trends and fashions to stay one step ahead of their audience. They edit relentlessly, to make sure that only their best work is put forward, and that every second of a song engages the listener with something new. They listen to feedback– from the industry, from their peers, and most importantly from their audience. If something isn’t working, they change it. Hit songwriters want to win.

At the ASCAP Awards, the songwriter of the year, Timbaland, was notably absent, but sent a message to be read on his behalf. He apologized for missing the event, but explained that he was in the studio mixing a new record. Then he threw down the gauntlet. After winning a record-setting 9 ASCAP awards over the past year, he said that he was looking forward to the upcoming year, and winning 10.

The next day, I saw my friends Mikkel and Tor from Stargate, the production team that has been dominating the charts for the past year with hits like “Irreplaceable” and “Please Don’t Stop The Music”. They had been at the awards and had heard Timbaland’s message– and at breakfast the next morning, they were already raring to get back to the studio. “Timbaland made the challenge last night” they laughed. “Now next year, we have to beat him.”

Writing hit songs is never easy. But you won’t win until you decide to get in the game. Congratulations to the all the ASCAP, BMI, and SESAC award-winning songwriters in 2008. I look forward to seeing you there next year!

ASCAP
BMI
SESAC

In the beginning, there was… publishing.

Not many people know it, since not many people in today’s music industry were around to see it, but the real beginnings of the music industry were not in those old vinyl discs or the antique phonograph with the RCA dog sitting next to it. The commercial music business started with music publishers, who first figured out how to move music beyond an endless succession of live shows, and turn it into an industry back at the end of the 19th century… through the sale of sheet music.

Back then; music publishing was the only game in town– both for songwriters hoping to eke out a living from their creations, and for audiences eager to be able to enjoy music outside of a concert of dance hall. Music stores would feature a piano player, who would perform the hot new songs of the day for customers passing by. If they heard something they liked, customers could come in and purchase their own copy of the song that they had just heard. Granted, that “product” had a definite do-it-yourself quality to it– it required the music consumer to take the sheet music home and learn to play the new song. Nevertheless, it represented the first time that people could purchase music as a “product”, enjoy it in the comfort of their own home, and songwriters could get paid on a mass scale.

From there, the business moved from sheet music to “piano rolls” from which the music played itself (the first actual “mechanical” exploitation of music) and then ultimately into the broadcast and recording era that has been the basis of the business we now know and maybe something less than love. Of course, sheet music continues to exist, and in fact, is undergoing a revival of sorts, thanks to the Internet and companies like Music Notes (Music Notes). But certainly, the industry has come a long way from the days when publishers were the primary game in town.

Or has it?

My friend Jerry Lembo, a legendary music figure himself and a great student of the industry (check out his blog at Jerry Lembo MySpace Blog), sent me an article today, titled Rock’s New Economy: Making Money When CD’s Don’t Sell. The story describes a terrain familiar to anyone in the music biz in 2008: falling CD sales, leading to an increased reliance on touring and licensing in order to generate income. And no one knows licensing like a publisher. After all, publishers created it.

Imagine how music publishers initially reacted to the advent of radio, and even worse, records, back in the early days of the 20th century. Probably with the same love that record labels now show Limewire and file-sharing college students. After all, publishers had just figured out a way to get rich selling music printed on paper– the last thing they needed was someone coming along and beaming it straight into people’s homes, or giving them plastic recordings they could play anytime they wanted. That’s when the publishing community hit on the bright idea that would carry them through the next nine, increasingly prosperous decades:

Licensing.

A company didn’t need to make a physical product. Just by controlling the underlying “rights” to a song, publishers and songwriters could make anyone who wanted to use that song, on the radio, television, records, or in films, advertising, nightclubs or elevators, pay for the privilege. Anyone using a song in public way for commercial purposes had to obtain a license, and the publishers controlled the licenses. This quickly became a very profitable business. The company, for which I work, Shapiro Bernstein, is one of the oldest music publishers in existence. Back in the early 1900’s, they had dozens of actual printing presses around the country in order to manufacture the sheet music to the latest Tin Pan Alley hit. Today, there are less than twenty employees in the New York office, and a scattering of employees and consultants in LA, London and elsewhere. And yet, profits continue to rise, year after year. Which leads us right up to the present day…

The music industry is growing and contracting, all at the same time. Music is selling less, and being used more than ever before. What publishers learned a hundred years ago, and what record labels are just starting to learn, is that licensing is far more efficient than manufacturing. It takes fewer people, fewer factories, less real estate and carries less risk to license music to people that wish to use it, than to create a physical copy of music for people to purchase. Bands are learning it too. It’s much easier to make money by licensing music to video games, advertisements, TV shows, and websites, than to create small pieces of plastic that has to be distributed and sold around the world. When the labels talk about a “360″– they’re more accurate than they know. The business of being a music creator has come full circle. Just as in the 1930’s, when sheet music gave way to broadcasts and recording, the game once again comes down to creating, performing and most importantly, licensing.

It used to be that old-school record business veterans almost boasted of their lack of knowledge about publishing. It was seen as a pennies business– a stodgy old conservative uncle who had somehow wandered in to the 24-hour party thrown by the high-flying, jet-setting record boys. Now most of those vintage music weasels have retired. The ones who haven’t are trying to start up music publishing companies.

Not understanding music-publishing means not understanding where the music business came from. But much more importantly, it also means not understanding where the business is going. If you want to get the picture in 12 easy steps, check out Music Publishing 101 at Berklee Music or “Making Music Make Money (An Insider’s Guide To Becoming Your Own Music Publisher)”. It’s time to go back to the future and start all over again.

Mark it down in the calendar folks…. we WON this time! Like a team emerging from a five-year losing streak, publishers and songwriters are heaving a sigh of relief, jumping for joy, and for the first time in several years actually looking ahead to the future with some small glimmer of hope. Isn’t it interesting what $100 million can do?

In case you missed the big occasion, last week a federal court judge ruled that AOL, RealNetworks and Yahoo! must pay licensing fees to ASCAP for the streaming of music on their sites.

Visit this Link to the catch up on the Full Story:

I know—the idea of a company having to pay for the use of music shouldn’t really be all that surprising. But over the past several years, creators and publishers have watched whole enterprises emerge, all based on the free use of music. The cyber-gurus told us “information wants to be free”—that the whole idea of copyright is a vestige from another era no longer beneficial to our wired way of life. The theory seems to have been that while a single unlicensed use by a film company or record label would never be tolerated, violations done on a mass scale would force licensors and even the courts to rewrite the old rulebook. Turns out that it just isn’t so or at least not yet.

For now, the digital world is going to have to ante-up and pay the bill, not only for the music they’re using now, but also the music they’ve been using as far back as July 1, 2002. Web-based companies that utilize music-streaming will need to obtain a non-exclusive blanket license, in the same way that radio stations, television stations, bars, restaurants, performing halls and others have for decades, from the performing rights societies, i.e. ASCAP, BMI and SESAC. The fee for the license will be 2.5% of the service’s “music-use-adjusted revenue”. That rather clumsy terminology is short-hand for a formula that takes into account the amount of revenue generated by the business, the advertising and promotional costs for that business, the total number of hours that music is streamed, and the total hours that the web service is used. If you’re trying to do the math at home, don’t bother.

The people that have done the math say the number owed by the Big Three under this decision could be over $100 million. Of course, now that legal precedent has been set, and the courts have established that the basic performance licensing system is appropriate and applicable to these web-based services, it shouldn’t be long before BMI and SESAC step up to get their piece as well. After that, they’ll be moving on to all of the other music-streaming sites. Needless to say, there’s a lot of money in them hills.

The problem is, there may not be as much as there needs to be. Clearly, some of these services, maybe even some of the most prominent, will never be able to cope with the costly invoice now sitting on their desk. Many of them have hardly figured out how to effectively monetize their own businesses. We’ll undoubtedly hear many heart-wrenching stories of financial ruin and laments about how the licensing organizations are choking the business, standing in the way of progress, and violating the American public’s right to unlimited, unfettered, uninterrupted entertainment.

Too bad. Happily, the courts have reaffirmed once again that there really is no free lunch. This is good, since songwriters and publishers have had to pay for their lunch all this time, and will for the foreseeable future. Kudos to ASCAP for fighting the good fight. Credit goes to the court for making the right call. Here’s to a victory that’s all the sweeter for the long road it took to get there. Some things are worth waiting for.

$100 million is one of them.

Back in my songwriting days (yes, I actually used to have a job where I created something, rather than just trying to sell something), I used to work with a collaborator who referred to her songs as her “babies”. To be honest, I never felt quite that maternal about my tunes (probably a gender thing). I viewed them more as unruly teenagers—brimming with potential, but usually plagued by one or two disastrous character flaws, and prone to costing me a lot more money than they would ever bring in.

Nevertheless, those songs were mine. I wouldn’t want to think of them as orphans. Actually, I never knew songs could be orphans. But apparently, they can. Imagine them, sitting homeless and forlorn by the side of the road, waiting for someone to come by, offer a ride, and take them away…

Could happen. I saw a fascinating blog recently:

Music-Technology-Policy

which on Friday, April 25 addressed the issue of “orphan works” – a subject currently in front of the United States House and Senate. “Orphan works” are copyrights (songs, books, recordings, you name it) for which it is not possible to identify or contact an owner. What the author of Music-Technology-Policy, Chris Castle, very adroitly points out is that there are large commercial interests, Google in particular, that have a vested interest in supporting legislation to make it possible for these “orphaned” works to be used freely, without compensation or risk of penalty.

The problem is largely one of definitions. Certainly, anyone with experience in publishing would be willing to acknowledge that some works do fall into “orphan” status. Disputes between writers, convoluted copyright histories, failure of heirs to continue to administer copyrights, works essentially abandoned by their own authors (remember that scene in “Raising Arizona” where they leave the baby on the car)—these are all situations that can eventually make it impossible to identify the proper owner of a copyright. But companies like Google are setting the bar pretty low.

According to the blog, Google’s Lester Lessig has referred to “out of print books” as orphans. Google’s General Counsel has said publicly: “These works include those for which the author or assignee of the work – the work’s “parent”—can no longer be determined, usually because the contact Information on the copyright registration is out of date”. They also expand that definition of orphan to include “works that have been, for all intents and purposes, ‘disowned’ either because any potential monetary value of the works has expired or because their authors simply are not interested in enforcing copyrights on their works”.

Wow. Those are pretty broad definitions. To claim that just because something is “out of print” makes it an orphan would put a huge portion of American music’s master recordings into the home for wayward record albums. Only a very small portion of recorded music can ever be profitably kept “in print” at any given time. But it may still be actively used in movies, television, advertising, etc. Similarly, labeling something an orphan because of an incorrect contact on the copyright registration is like deeming anyone with an incorrect address on a driver’s license a fugitive. Copyright registrations are notoriously out of date, which is why large film studios use search services that specialize in tracking down authors and publishers.

Finally, to decide that works generating little income or for which the authors are no longer actively engaged in protecting the copyrights are “orphans” overlooks some fundamental realities of publishing. At Shapiro Bernstein, where I work, we have a song in our catalogue that for over two decades generated income in the low three figures (and that’s counting dollars and cents). But upon rediscovering it in the vaults, more than 50 years after its initial creation, the song suddenly found a new life—showing up in a Tarantino film, and then catching to become a stadium anthem, then finding its way into several national advertising campaigns. The song now generates more than enough income to keep its writers living well, and to renew their interest in their long lost “baby”. Songs come back. And when they do, the copyright owners get interested very quickly.

The point of all this is not to encourage you to write your Congressman about the “orphan works” legislation—though I wouldn’t discourage it either. The real point is to remind you once again of how important it is to maintain and update all of the information necessary for administering your copyrights.

Check your ASCAP registrations regularly. Make sure your publisher and your PRO have your correct address. Maintain accurate copyright registrations. Remain ever vigilante for unauthorized uses.

I’ve made all of these points before, both here, and in my book “Making Music Make Money”. It is a primary concern of my Berkleemusic class, Music Publishing 101. Whenever I talk about this subject, I usually emphasize that the songwriter is also a publisher of his or her own work, at least until he or she decides to assign that responsibility to someone else. As publishers, it’s our job to administer and protect the copyright.

But here’s a new way to look at it. You’re not only your song’s publisher. You’re the parent. You created it—now you have to take care of it. If you don’t, there are plenty of large “content” –hungry companies and creative “pop culture alchemists” who will be more than happy to take your song and call it their own. In this Information and Entertainment Age, nothing of value will stay an orphan for long.

Having returned from three days at Miami’s Winter Music Conference just long enough to wash clothes, dump a very discerning collection of 200 business cards and CD’s into a pile on the desk and then head off again last week for ASCAP’s “I Create Music” Expo in Los Angeles, I have come to three realizations:

1. You could easily spend every week of the calendar year at some kind of music conference. At present, there appears to be a bigger industry in talking about the business of music than in actually doing the business.

2. You really can have too many black canvas shoulder bags.

3. There is no excuse for not meeting the people in the industry that you need to meet in order to move your business ahead.

While I was at the WMC, someone attending a panel asked:

“Everyone is talking about new income from things like television and advertising placements, games, and mobile music. But how is an independent songwriter supposed to get their music in these situations when they don’t know the right people or have any contacts?”

A murmur of solidarity arose from the audience.

I was incredulous. I had just come from a panel on mobile music that featured executives from Blackberry, Globefish Media, and Mozes, Inc. literally inviting people to approach them after the discussion and give them music. In the audience that day, there were people like Ed Razzano from Ricall, a company debuting a remarkable new web-based format to help independent musicians, labels, and publishers market their music to film and television. At the “I Create Music” Expo last week, songwriters had access to top music supervisors like Deva Anderson, Gary Calamar, and Billy Gottlieb. They were able to learn from industry legends like Billy Steinberg, Steve Miller, and Jon Bon Jovi. If all that failed, they could check out a more humble panelist like yours truly—our panel was called “Mind Your Own Business: A Toolkit For Self-Publishing-Career Building Workshop”.

The real question might be: How can any songwriter still complain about a lack of access to industry insiders or a lack of knowledge about how the business works?

The truth is that there are probably a few other industries in which top executives are more visible or accessible, or spend more time just generally hanging out (which may actually be part of the industries problem). The other more unfortunate truth is that relatively few songwriters, even those that pay the money to attend one of these conventions, take full advantage of the opportunities that are there.

Obviously, just because Desmond Child is speaking at a conference doesn’t mean you’re going to meet him. Handing Pete Ganbarg your business card doesn’t make him your new best friend. You might cross paths with the person that could transform your career and not even hold the elevator door for them. Some of this comes down to chance. But not that much.

The real key is that most writers don’t know how to work a music conference to their advantage. So in the interest of making that registration fee pay off, and making my experience on panels like the ASCAP Expo a little more rewarding, here are 3 tips for getting the most out of a music conference:

1. Prepare. There will likely be several hundred people showing up with the same bright idea that you had, which means: you’re entering a war zone. Come prepared. Check the schedule of panels and events well in advance, and research the panelists to identify the key events you want to attend, and the particular people you want to meet. Google those people who make your most wanted list—try to find a photo so you can recognize them, should you see them in the hall.

2. Memorize. Faces. Names. Companies. You might not meet the person you’re looking for while he or she is on a panel. But you might be seated next to him or her at another panel. If you see a name on a badge, you need to be able to remember who the person is and what he or she does. And there’s one more thing to memorize:

Your lines. You need to be able to explain who you are and what you do in a clever, interesting way in ten seconds or less. If you’re working with someone important, or have a hit in the making, or just topped the charts somewhere—that story needs to be told. Fast.

3. Ask one good question. I know—it seems too easy. But trust me on this, when the panel concludes (as they always do) with a period of questions and answers, 95% of the questions will be either irrelevant, so personally focused as to hold no interest for anyone other than the person asking, or revealing of a complete ignorance about the people on the panel.

If you ask one serious question that illustrates knowledge of the specific sector of the industry being discussed, or even better, knowledge of one of the panelist’s specific business activities, you will be noticed. I promise you, anyone on the panel will be more than happy to speak with you afterward. It’s as simple as that.

For songwriters and developing publishers, there is no conference more useful than the recent “I Create Music Expo” in Los Angeles. Within three days, you can learn virtually everything you need to know about the music industry and the songwriter and publisher’s place in it. So no more excuses about not knowing the right things or the right people, it’s all there for the taking. Hope to meet you there next year.

To See What Took Place at both Conferences Please Visit the Below Websites:

ASCAP
Winter Music Conference

Those who have been following this blog regularly will recognize this as a dispatch from the war-zone. At the moment, the music industry is embroiled in a battle that could be a matter of survival for publishers and songwriters, and arguably, for record companies and other content providers as well.

The fight is centered on the Copyright Tribunal, the board that will determine the statutory mechanical royalty rate to be paid for records sold (people do still sell records, right?) as well as downloads and digital streams. On side of the battle lines, we find music publishers and songwriters who want the rate raised–on the opposing side, we find record labels and digital music distributors, who claim that the current rate should be reduced. The lines are drawn, and the battle is raging in full—last week, music publishers began, not terribly successfully, to make their case. Now, the labels will have their day in court. It would not be an overstatement to say that in many cases, both sides are fighting for their lives.

For those joining us with the war already underway, here’s a quick bit of background. A mechanical royalty is the amount that a label or digital distributor must pay to the music publisher (who collects on behalf of the songwriter) for the use of a song on a physical record that is sold commercially, or through some means of digital distribution. Here’s a quick trip down the income stream, to try to clarify the process:

You, Joe Songwriter, and your publisher, Pennies Music, have a song on the new album by Next Big Thing, on the Cut-Rate Records label. Every time Cut-Rate sells that Next Big Thing album, the label must take part of that income, and pay a mechanical royalty to Pennies Music, who will then, in turn, pay a portion of that royalty to you, Joe Songwriter. At present, that mechanical royalty is: 9.1 cents. In other words, for every $20 CD sold, the publishers of each song on the record receive 9.1 cents. If there are ten songs on the album, then the label will pay out roughly one dollar in mechanical royalties, for every album sold.

This “statutory” rate of 9.1 cents is determined by the Copyright Tribunal, and reset every few years—which is precisely what’s happening at the moment. But what’s being lost in this debate is the difference between theory and reality. Unfortunately, what I just described above is “theory”. It’s the way that things are supposed to work. Publishers will grant mechanical licenses, record labels will sell records, and pay the writers and publishers 9.1 cents a song. But as Steven Tyler might say: Dream on.

The truth is that record labels have devised a myriad of ways to avoid paying full statutory rate—that whopping $1 per album. Instead, the labels have created the controlled composition clause, which simply means that the label pays only 3/4 of the full royalty rate, or roughly 6.8 cents a song. Why? Because they said so. This is one of the great bargaining maneuvers in history—try it sometime at your local supermarket. Just tell your grocer that you’d prefer to pay only 3/4 of your bill. Let me know if that works for you.

On top of requesting a 3/4 rate, many labels also employ the “cap”, which they have cleverly inserted into artists’ recording agreements. The cap stipulates that the total amount of mechanical royalties shall not exceed ten times the 3/4 rate, for all of the songs on the album. This means that if the album contains 12 songs, the label pays only 5.12 cents, or 10 x .068 divided by 12. And it gets worse.

Not everyone on the album is necessarily subject to the controlled composition clause. The artist (assuming they write at least part of their own material) is almost always considered “controlled”, and usually any producer or other person associated with the artist will be considered “controlled” as well. However, covers of songs not written by the artist or the producer, samples, or interpolations of outside songs are not generally “controlled”. That is to say, if you sample a Gamble & Huff composition in your song, you can be sure that Gamble & Huff will be demanding full rate. The result of this can be brutal:

When one or more writer receives full statutory rate rather than the controlled rate, the difference (2.5 cents) is made up out of the share of the controlled writers. This means that if you have a song on an album that contains 13 songs, one or two of which are covers of well-known earlier hits or which contain sizeable samples, you could find yourself earning not 9 cents per record sold, but as little as 4 cents or less—if you are unlucky enough to be subject to the controlled composition clause.

When that happens, this whole war over statutory mechanical rates seems pretty irrelevant indeed. In fact, I’m prepared to offer a simple settlement that could stop this whole war over statutory rates with nary a casualty. Try this:

The publishers agree to leave the full statutory rate where it is right now, at 9. 1 cents. But for their part, the labels agree to actually pay the real statutory rate. No clauses, exceptions, negotiations, or extortion. Just pay the amount on the price tag. Period. Maybe the courts could even close a couple labels down for putting music out on the market without a mechanical license—a practice that has now reached the point where multi-platinum albums remain unlicensed four and five years after their release.

I suspect that any real-world publisher would take this solution in an instant. Fast, easy, no fuss licensing? A chance to actually collect what is owed? That would be a peace treaty any publisher could accept.

Please visit the below site for information about National Music Publisher’s Association: NMPA