Music, Journalism, Emotion and Perspective by George Ziemann -- September 5, 2010 Journalistic integrity requires keeping yourself at a distance from what you're writing about to remain objective, something I complain that the news media seems incapable of remembering. Then I look at my own writing of late and see that I've lost some of the fire that used to make my examination of the music industry interesting. Which is worse? As the "Off the Charts" article has circulated around the web, one of the comments that struck me started with, "When you get past the ranting..." So I went back and re-read the piece with that criticism in mind. Yeah, there's a touch of rant there, particularly in the intro, but when I consider the way I used to write about the music industry, the article in question is very restrained in comparison. I ended up thinking, "Pfft. If he thinks THAT was ranting..." When I started seriously writing about the way the music industry works, I was angry about what was going on, from the RIAA interfering with my attempts to sell my own work, to the industry's intentional misrepresentation of the facts (if not outright lies), the financial rape of signed artists and the way the music business was willing to sacrifice the diversity of American culture in the interest of profits. Then the RIAA started suing college students, soccer moms and dead people. I went after them with venom, held nothing back, mocked and ridiculed the industry leaders and took my attack everywhere that I could find people who listened. I was mad as hell and I wasn't going to take it anymore. I was acting like Glenn Beck approaches politics -- personal opinions, emotional outcry, vindictive attacks and one-sided ranting. No matter how factual I was, it was bad journalism because I was personally and emotionally involved with the subject. I was not objective at all and I didn't care. It brought me an audience, though. I wasn't the only one who felt that way and my tirades found a lot of people who felt the same way. It may have been bad journalism, but people were paying attention. A few days ago, I saw one of Obama's minions in the news, taking about how music piracy was a "growing problem" and something or other needed to be done about it. Of course, this is drivel -- exactly the kind of thing I would have felt compelled to rant about in the past. The RIAA now owns the Department of Justice. The last time I checked with Eric Garland at BigChampagne, he described peer-to-peer as a "stable market" for music. The major labels have cut back releases so far that there's not much out there worth downloading that isn't being willingly offered by the independents. LimeWire and The Pirate Bay have taken beatings in court over the past few years. Digital retail is thriving; most people get their music legally now. When I read that news article, I merely rolled my eyes and moved on. It wasn't even worth talking about. Why not? The RIAA is still out there. Mediocrity is still at the top of the charts. Record label contracts are worse than ever, with "360" contracts sucking in money from what used to be artists most lucrative income source -- live performances. Things like American Idol may bring you fame, but Sony has used their leverage (and bad contracts) in that area to block artists from moving further -- Chris Daugherty discovered he was "owned" when he tried to release an album without Sony; the record label put out million-selling records in Mexico and Australia cobbled from show performances of artists in those countries and then pointed to the contractural agreements that let them avoid paying the artists a dime. Why don't I care any more? Because we won the war. Oh, the RIAA acts like there are still battles to be fought, but compared to 2002, when I was calling for rebellion and urging musicians to wake up and storm the castle walls of the tyrants, the music world has changed completely. The RIAA no longer represents the recording industry, just a handful of the monied interests. A great deal of change came from within the industry. Paul McCartney walked away from a 40-year relationship with EMI because he felt like he was "part of the furniture." Artists like Thome Yorke of Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor went off on their own, offering entire albums for free or "pay what you like" and still made more money than through a traditional contract. Blowback from the audience taught Metallica that their earlier stance of attacking their own fans was a mistake. Suing the audience turned out to be a huge financial blunder for the RIAA, costing the about $16 for every $1 they collected in settlements, in addition to being a PR nightmare. Sales for the major labels have fallen to levels not seen for more than 20 years. EMI almost was taken over by CitiGroup in June, and they still are on the brink of financial ruin. Back in 2002, digital recording was still relatively new in terms of accessability and a lot of us were still on dial-up, making the spread of our music a slow, almost painful process for the audience. Having had time to learn the new tools, improve their skill at production and with almost infinite promotional opportunities to connect with the audience, the indie artists have brought their own game to a much higher level in the space of only a few years. An even bigger change came from the retail end. eMusic showed up. Apple created the iTunes Music Store and a year or three later, opened up their virtual endless retail space to the independent artists. Then Amazon followed suit. Even Napster and Rhapsody, both of which are owned by RIAA members, allowed unsigned artists in. MySpace took off. ILike rolled in the music from GarageBand and the old mp3.com catalog and let a half million artists share their music through sites like FaceBook. More retail services opened up and that landscape is constantly changing and expanding-- Zune, Nokia, Shockhound, IMVU, Spotify and many more. The old cry to "level the playing field" is no longer necessary. It's level now. It may still be earier to get attention if you have a huge promotional budget behind you, but we all all get into retail with no problem. I've placed four albums with iTunes, Amazon and the like and the last one went live within a day or two from uploading the final track. We simply don't need the record labels any longer to make our music available to the public. The RIAA can't block us any longer. They are no longer the gatekeepers; they no longer control what gets into retail. There are no gatekeepers. Now, the RIAA members are the ones complaining because the rest of us are "cluttering" the marketplace. In that respect, the independents have truly won the war. The battles that remain seem rather insignificant. We still can't get radio airplay, but the radio is not the cultural centerpiece it once was. The teens I know are much more attached (literally) to their iPods. They are not spoon-fed what to listen to; they make their own choices. Whereas Wolfman Jack, Dick Clark and Casey Kasem used to be the ones telling us what we needed to pay attention to, today's teens seem to get their direction from each other and have figured out how to hunt things down on their own. Artists are still signing bad contracts, but it's not like they haven't been warned. If you're foolish enough to think that your band can survive on $250,000 for seven years and still believe that a record contract is the only way to "make it," well, you need more guidance than some advice from some old musician's website. Which brings me back to the subject at hand, namely that I have a hard time stoking up the emotional fire enough to care much about the industry. When I do take on a subject these days, it's more analytical, but beyond factual observations, I have less than ever to bring to the forefront which will really matter. I wanted to change the world, and I still do. But the reality is that the world really changed on its own. I had very little to do with that. I know that I have made a small difference, at least in the perspectives of the readers who have written to share their experiences and appreciation for my efforts. I know that I reached a number of people, opened a few eyes, and I am very grateful for having had the opportunity to so. I'm not through trying. I still want to change the world, but the fire that once burned so brightly, compelled me to try to change the status quo and threatened to consume me with its flames is now just glowing embers. The status quo changed. The fire has burned itself out. There is little left to fight. There is still something to be said about the last decade and, without my personal fury to get in the way, it is finally time to write a book about it. My audience has asked for it. I've tried to do so in the past, but I was too close to the story. Hell, I made myself part of the story, which made it impossible to view objectively. Every time I tried to get started, I could see that and it's the very thing that has stopped me in the past. There were too many points to make that seemed crucial and I couldn't get enough distance to discuss them rationally. Things have changed. I'm older and, hopefully, a little wiser, more restrained and better able to take a good look at what happened with more emotional detachment. I don't have anything to prove now, so I will be able to see things differently, take a more scholarly approach to the telling. While I sort of miss the energy that the passion burning inside of me used to provide, I think that, in the long run, the story of the Music Wars will be better told without it. I'm not on the battlefield any long, but metaphorically sitting upon a hill watching what's left of the activity take place. It's much easier to see the big picture from here. It will be much better, from a journalistic perspective, to go back, review everything, put the pieces together carefully and really take an honest view of what has transpired instead of writing with one hand and wielding a sword with the other. Sure, the ranting felt liberating and the battle was thrilling. There was pure excitement in allowing myself to be carried away by the moment for such a long time. It made me feel alive and a part of something much greater than I was. However, it made for a seriously biased viewpoint that left out so much and often left a question mark on my credibility. The whole story still has not been told. The time has come to correct that.