A few weeks ago, I gave a shout out to the musical community of Nashville, having been reminded of that city’s vitality as a music center during a recent business trip. A few weeks ago, I hit the road again to visit a town that, at the moment, burns a few degrees hotter even than Nashville:

Atlanta.

Detroit and Motown in the mid-Sixties; Philadelphia in the Seventies; Seattle in the Eighties– that’s where Atlanta is right now. In many ways, it’s the epicenter of pop and urban music in America, with producers and writers like Dream, Sean Garrett, Bryan Michael Cox, and Dallas Austin, along with artists like Cee-Lo, Outkast, Shop Boyz, and Usher dominating the charts. All that success has created a must-go destination for artists seeking that magic production touch, A&R weasels looking for that breakthrough hit song, or publishers searching for the latest up and coming hitmakers. On top of the thriving urban/pop scene, there’s an active rock scene, with artists like the Whigs, as well as a healthy and thriving singer/songwriter world. Having made my way down to the ATL to check out a new songwriter/producer, I soon found myself in the middle of a musical community that is a model for how to build a modern music center.

In Atlanta, the artistic and production community live and work next to each other– everyone has a studio complex where musicians, writers, artists, and managers constantly intermingle. While most people work within a small camp of writers and producers, often associated with a specific company, everyone mixes and matches. They trade ideas, they work on the same projects, they share engineers and musicians, and they compete openly but without malice. Most importantly, they have a solid group of executives, artist managers, studio managers, lawyers and publishers that support the creative people and help to build bridges to other music centers in NY and LA. The moral to this heartwarming story: People need People.

No man is an island. If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a whole town to build a business. Ask any neighborhood barbecue shop– if you want to be in business, you have to be part of the community.

Probably because we spent too many of our formative years locked away in solitude– listening to records, practicing our instrument or writing heartbreaking poems of love and longing– most musicians tend to be loners. The message from music centers like Atlanta and Nashville is clear: it’s time to become a team player. Your team is the musical community around you: other musicians, writers, artists, publishers, press, fans, radio programmers, independent film-makers, and anyone else who shares a similar direction. This has been a constant theme in the development of American music, from the Memphis rockabilly community that spawned rock ‘n’ roll to the Brill Building in NY, to the rise of West Coast rap. Artists, writers and companies do not develop in isolation. They grow in clusters, supporting and learning from each other.

Of course, everyone is competing with one another as well. That would be hard to miss in either Nashville or Atlanta. Everyone is working on the same projects, chasing the same cuts, and cultivating the same contacts. This is what businesses do– they compete without apology. This is also the benefit of being part of the community– competition invariably makes everyone raise the level of their game. Lack of competition gives you Amtrak and your cable company.

As you try to build your publishing business, it’s essential to start creating not just a company, but a community around you. Hitco Music was one of the early players in Atlanta urban music, and they continue to thrive amidst the scene that they built. No matter where you are, there are likely other people trying to launch similar creative ventures. It’s up to you to find them, and then figure out ways you can work together. By sharing information and knowledge, you’ll start to build something bigger than yourself– and that’s when a musical community starts to take shape. The business pay-off is big– but the personal pay-off is equally big. You just might make some friends along the way. You might also change the lives of the local aspiring artists that come after you.

Here’s an idea: get together four or five local songwriters and just throw a little party. Play some songs for each other– solicit some feedback, criticism or ideas. Find out who is doing what, and what the shared challenges are. Find out who knows who. If you have a good time, try doing it once a month. This is what was happening in NY when I arrived as an aspiring songwriter, too many years ago. That little group of 8-10 people spawned at least five people still active and successful in the industry today. It made me at least four or five friends for life. That’s not a bad investment for a Thursday night.

Maybe it’s time for a little community service.

Gone Country

Jan 16

Who ever thought you’d get travel tips out of this blog?

I’m on my way back to New York tonight, returning from five days in the music capital of the USA—a little bleary-eyed and overloaded with CD’s and memories of some amazing musical moments. LA? Atlanta? Miami? Nope. I’m coming home from the original Music City, USA: Nashville, Tennessee.

Long understood to be the center of the country music industry, Nashville is much, much more than that. In fact, I would argue that it’s the real center of American music. For instance, take my five-day schedule. It began with one of the transcendent music experiences of my life, at the BMI Trailblazer luncheon, honoring gospel music legends Marvin Winans, The Mighty Clouds of Joy, and Vanessa Bell Armstrong. In an ironic mix of secular and spiritual, Nashville is not only the home of country music’s heritage of cheatin’ and drinkin’ songs, it’s also the home of the Christian music and Gospel industry. That was followed by meetings with top country producer like Keith Stegall, who just finished a remarkable album with new rock act the Zac Brown Band, rock producer Jeff Coplan, who has developed new country act Love and Theft, country publishers like Midas Music who are riding high with the success of CCM rock act Rush of Fools, Murrah Music who are launching hip-hop writer/producer Bar-None, and Full Circle, whose star writer Rachel Proctor is working with pop act Jessica Simpson. It’s all pretty mixed up here.

Add in a few trips to the honky-tonks of Nashville’s District area, to hear a wild mélange of traditional and modern country, bluegrass and rockabilly, played by some of the best bar bands to be found anywhere in the world. Then there was the opportunity to see Alan Jackson on his home turf, delivering two hours of straight-up country music in a style that captures all the beauty, dignity and humor and heartbreak of that venerable tradition. And a night at the Bluebird Café, to hear the industry’s greatest songwriters strip their craft down to a guitar and vocal— tall tales and three-minute tragedies passed around a circle of writers in a tradition as old as the campfire. The surprise discovery of up and comers Telluride, blending soul, rock and roll, and classic country harmonies in a testament to the inescapably intermingled roots of American popular music. An afternoon at the Country Music Hall of Fame, watching the evolution from hillbilly music to Hank Williams to Elvis and Jerry Lee to Charley Pride and Garth Brooks and Rascal Flatts. And I haven’t even started listening to the CD’s.

If you’re looking for a vacation spot that offers ample nightlife, a little history, a vast range of cultural experiences, and a minimum of pretense, put Nashville on your list. But more importantly, if you’re looking for a supportive, accessible musical community that boasts the greatest musicians and songwriters in the country, along with some of the industry’s shrewdest operators, you might want to pack your bags.

Is it competitive there? Undoubtedly. But it’s also a place where industry execs still listen to songs, musicians can cut three demos in a four-hour demo session, guitar-vocal demos can turn into Top Ten hits, and songwriters can hang out together, trade ideas, offer encouragement, and learn from those with more experience.

Throw in the ham and biscuits at the Loveless Café, and it’s enough to make a NY boy start to go country.