The Old Model Is Dead

I did an interview for the Mad Records Collective podcast that just dropped. Michael Gilbride of Mad Records did a thorough and thoughtful interview that covered a lot of ground. I support what Michael is doing at Mad Records—especially with education and mentorship. It’s a great opportunity to share my story and ideas with a community of people navigating this fast-changing business. It seems to be resonating with the audience, which is great to see.

I’m late to publish this week because I’ve been struggling to convey an idea. I've decided that exact idea isn’t worth developing—just go back in my archives and read the series titled “Don’t Bet Against Yourself.” I’ve focused on a narrower idea below.

One thing I get to do pretty often that I hope to do a lot more in the future (hint), is guest lecture in college music business classes. I love speaking with young people and sharing my ideas about music and the music business. They’re often pleasantly surprised that I’m not lost in another era like so many music professionals in my generation. I’m also occasionally shocked by the hardline, sometimes misinformed worldviews I encounter about our institutions—especially about major labels.

It’s a common belief that major labels are extractive, obsolete, and anti-artist, an unnecessary holdover from another era. And there’s plenty of evidence to support such a conclusion. There are many examples of fully independent artists who have built incredible careers and made fortunes. For example, it’s my understanding that one of the biggest acts in underground country, Treaty Oak Revival, release all of their music through DistroKid. They sell out arenas and stream in the billions.

On the other hand, the vast majority of successful acts have at least some direct relationship with one of the Big Three music companies. If a big act isn’t directly signed to a major, it’s likely they’re distributed through a major-owned indie distributor such as AWAL or Virgin, often utilizing major label marketing services. My former employer, Concord, is technically considered “independent,” although most of their frontline and catalogue music is distributed by Universal. It’s becoming difficult to parse “major” from “indie,” and I’m not sure it really matters.

This week I sat in a major label office with an artist client for a meeting that included nearly a dozen senior label personnel. They’d all spent time with the artist’s music, sharing ideas and favorite songs. It was obvious that they all love music generally, and my client’s music specifically. These meetings reinforce my belief that labels are full of very skilled, talented people who are truly passionate about artists and the work they do on their behalf. I’ve seen these label teams accomplish amazing things.

I’ve also noted many times, including recently, that major labels are bad at early-stage artist development. I’ve also witnessed labels competing to sign an artist from a viral moment, only to discover that the artist has no real audience. Instead of taking a few steps back and building a foundation, they attempt to replicate the viral moment. It rarely works, and artists end up in a sort of creative purgatory, unable to sell enough tickets to justify a tour.

During roughly the first half of my music business career—the decade between 2007 and 2017—I used to regularly “shop” music to labels. There were label service options available, but the services offered generally weren’t all that helpful for development. Traditional press and radio made a bigger impact, and social media wasn’t the powerful marketing tool it’s become. As a big firm lawyer, I didn’t have access to resources to help an artist develop an audience, so we looked for a partner willing to take the risk and make the investment of time, money, and resources to build.

The problem with shopping developing artists is the act of reaching out to a label seeking an opportunity gave the label the upper hand. Long terms, low money, ownership vesting in the label, ancillary participation—of course they’ll take what they can get when the artist acknowledges their low-leverage position.

I believe major labels are still powerful and effective once an artist has an audience. Once the artist has enough of an audience to thrive on a major label, I’ve learned that the labels will seek out the artist. It’s rare these days for an artist or manager to approach me looking to shop a label deal. It’s much more common for an artist to seek my help to find the basic resources to build it themselves. I consider that progress.

I’m usually generous with my time when an artist seeks my help to a point. I’ll make referrals, give some practical advice. But I rarely get involved beyond a call or meeting. They already know that the basic development tools are readily available and accessible to all. Anyone can sign up for DistroKid, but clearly basic digital distribution alone won’t make them the next Treaty Oak. They have access to infinite potential fans through social media and streaming. But reaching those fans in oceans of mediocre music is the hardest thing in the world—even when the music is great.

Working towards a breakthrough is always a soul-sucking grind, but it’s the only thing that works. That’s why whenever I come across a truly great artist who is already fully committed to the work, and has already shown signs of real growth, I’m likely to find a way to get involved. That’s why I’ve worked so hard to build structures that serve artist development projects.

As a lawyer, I still primarily make my living negotiating deals for creative projects. The difference is that there’s generally no reason to encourage an artist into a substandard deal—especially a deal that requires an artist to give up ownership and control. My advice is typically keep building. It’s exciting when the first opportunities show up in the artist’s social DMs, but those are rarely the right deals. When the bottom feeders show up, you know you’re making progress. Keep building.

When it finally connects, that’s when you get the room full of executives trying to persuade the artist that they are the right team. The real measure, however, is the deal itself. With rare exceptions, the time to make the deal is when the artist can own the work, and when the guaranteed marketing spend is well into the six figures. If the deal doesn’t reflect the perceived enthusiasm, you keep building.

I’m not saying there’s a point where signing with a major label is always the right option. There are many good reasons to remain independent. If the project is sufficiently developed, label service companies will often write seven-figure checks to close a deal. Nevertheless, if the goal is a global career, frontline major labels are often the best option.

I don’t have regrets for the deals I’ve made that didn’t work out for the artist. I made sure they understood the risks, and in the old business most major label signings failed. I did my best to negotiate the best terms I could and we all hoped for the best. We did what we could.

Now it’s a different industry, with different challenges and opportunities. We used to rely on labels for development because we didn’t have better options. Now we have all sorts of resources and funding sources available, and we’re nevertheless finding that only a few things really break out.

In the podcast interview I noted that all the best opportunities are ahead of the research. That’s because the research shows us what is breaking through, or what’s about to break. That’s when everyone shows up, checkbook in hand, ready to lock an artist into a deal that may or may not be in their interest. That’s when they need a good lawyer. Until then, you just need great music, a work ethic, and a lot of patience.