The Weight of Music

It’s often been said that the music industry is 90% business and 10% music. Anyone pursuing this profession has heard it countless times. Perhaps its reiterations are meant to soften the blows a musician’s fragile ego must withstand. Or maybe it is a scare tactic to weed through the weaklings, the ones who want the rockstar lifestyle sans the hard work. Regardless, the statement rings true for anyone who’s ever flipped the channel to MTV or sent out a fine-tuned press kit.
As a recent Berklee graduate and intern, I have spent a great length of time contemplating what type of businessperson I wish to become. I was reminded of an article I published two years ago (“Business Sense and the Marketing of Music Therapy”, MBJ,Oct. 2005, 9) envisioning one direction the music industry could take. Back then, I could not see past the “hear today, gone tomorrow” offerings of mainstream airwaves. I deemed the recording industry nearly dead, due to its inadequacies of reaching music listeners on a deeper level. Proposing that label executives look beyond the scope of popular recording artists, I believed energy should be channeled strictly toward music’s therapeutic possibilities. And I still believe the music industry could never be restricted to recording artists and public performance—and that any music-related service marketed to the populace should fall under the general umbrella of a music business education.
Especially within the past decade, there has been discrepancy over what constitutes music. A textbook definition might identify it as “an artistic modality comprised from sound and silence, articulated through aesthetically pleasing, evocative composition; elements of pitch, rhythm, dynamic, phrasing, and timbre are also incorporated to enhance individual interpretation”. But this is such a technical definition.
A true lover of music would refer to it as “the soundtrack of life”, which speaks volumes. Of course, it is a cultural good, a staple that is present during times of celebration and bereavement. Its subtle articulations and blaring crescendos stir fractured hearts and lift withered souls to unforeseeable new heights. The notes of a string quartet or a twelve bar blues transcend all emotional barriers, rekindling long-forgotten hopes. Intellect and imagination catch fire with music. In a world of a thousand mother tongues and a million foreign dialects, music is the only universal language.
As an artistically inclined individual, I find myself partial to the second definition. Unless reproducing a specific musical interpretation, I would rather not consume myself with rhythmic deviations and pitch identification. This is why I have begun to question whether this phenomenological experience, and its ability to move or heal another human being, could ever be measured.
Business and economic statistics for music abound. We know about recorded music sales, the funding of clinical music programs, concert tour grosses, signal-to-noise ratios, votes for this year’s American Idol, and the number of students enrolled in their high school band class. Undeniably, these figures show the economic value and the technical parameters that quantify the occurrence of a musical event. But what can these figures tell us about the experience of listening to music? Indeed, how could we quantify the import of this universal language in our lives? Is it not the intangible and symbolic nature of music that ultimately impacts the human psyche?
From this perspective, and given the paramount significance of music, the business carries a big weight on its shoulders. It provides an outlet to reach buyers. And although it is based on profit, the business serves the interest of both the producer and consumer (trade and distribution, nevertheless, do not take place within a conscience-focused marketplace, and there is often abuse).
In the meantime, popular music has always been a healthy alternative to the status quo. It is the crowning jewel of all counterculture and goes against all things corporate. The irony is that artistic independence relies on financial stability, compromising a musician’s position. Why else would trident-true folksingers include at least one radio-friendly single on every album released? Or why else would young pop-singers walk a fuzzy line, either appearing to be a porn-star or a basket-case—all of which, in effect, is lip-synched for maximum effect to get them through their five minutes of fame.
Consumers observe the drama from the sidelines. Music fans pioneered illegal downloading because they wanted an alternative. They genuinely desired something of substance. But instead, data-based models marginalized music’s sacred attributes down to a formula. Even as the recording industry legalized digital distribution and provided more “bang for a buck”, it forged ahead with restrictive usage principles, adopting digital rights management.
The music industry, of course, extends far beyond recording artists and public performances. Clinical and educational professionals, for instance, market music both to their medical patients and the world’s youth. Their battles lie within psychiatric institutions and the school systems . Music makers, on the other hand, continue to be unappreciated.
So what can be done and who will solve the problem? The answer may be easy to identify, and salvation may come from the Millennial Generation (1978-2000), which is also my own. Predicted to outnumber the Baby Boomer and Generation X combined, we are a market segment most catered to by the music industry. We became a fragmented assemblage, raised on the World Wide Web and limitless channels of digital media, over-stimulated and misunderstood. And as products of our modern-day environment, we tend toward the extremities of overachievement and nervous breakdown. Often the music industry latches onto our youth and underdeveloped knowledge of the world, and exploits us for it.
The Millennial generation knows the current musical landscape like no one else. It is the music of our childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. Despite any shortcomings or disabilities, we are street-savvy, multi-taskers, and world travelers, and are endowed with many positive attributes. With the right level of compassion and encouragement, our generation can honor those who came first and reinvent itself. Let us use our ethical sensibilities to guide our decision-making, and the marketing and distribution of our very special product.
In the end, I don’t believe it was the music consumer that industry professionals underestimated. It was the versatility of a true musician that was gravely underrated; the potential a career in music can hold, the timeless constituent present in a good contemporary song, and the container music provides to hold and organize collective human emotion. In fighting so long and hard for a career or education in the field of business, it is easy to forget the foundations of the business. So even if these words seem all too idealistic, please note that many lives are being dedicated today to preserving this domain, whose astronomical potential is still not in question. If the music industry is 90% business and 10% music, perhaps it is time for industry professionals to adopt a change of heart and flash a stiff upper lip.

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