One of the areas of interest that I’ve got, both professionally and personally, is music. Certainly, as a consumer of music, I consider myself an aficionado, and it’s been a pretty topsy-turvy industry for God knows how long.  I had a really interesting exchange with Sam Valenti IV, scion/patriarch/H.N.I.C. of Ghostly International, the stellar record label yesterday, which got me to thinking about my relationship to music and where I see the whole industry heading.

First though, an story, which really got this particular idea started for me.  I was asked to think critically about some of my favorite albums for Sam, and quite literally, my list of “favorite albums” is one album long.  To me, the most perfect album ever published is Morphine’s Cure for Pain. I listen to all types of music – classical, dubstep, “viking” metal, old country and western, spaz rock, and what I’d consider to be “intelligent” alternative.  Certainly, any number of Radiohead’s albums, or R.E.M.’s, or the Pixies’, would end up in my personal top ten list, but I have a special relationship with Morphine, and particularly their sophomore album, Cure for Pain.

Quick background: my folks are very serious about music, and have been my whole life.  Both natives of Detroit (@meatyobject can tell me whether the proper way to say that is Detroiters or Detroitians or whatever), they both grew up in the heyday of Motown, and then came of age in the 1960’s.  They’ve both got great taste – my Mom is more partial to Motown, R&B, country and folk, while my Dad’s way more into 60’s/70’s rock, but the point is that I was exposed to good music, and lots of it, from a young age.  Despite that, I made some questionable choices about what to listen to as a kid – from Def Leppard to Young MC to Bon Jovi.  I’ll cop to that, because just like I’d never wear the same hairstyle I had as a kid, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have ended up where I am, musically, without bottoming out first.  I still know all the words to “Bust a Move”, however.  Not proud, but still.

There was a place near my house when I was 13 or 14 called Video Update, and I’d go to peruse their new and used CD stacks from time to time.  I went in there one day and was flipping through new CDs when I found a really interesting looking cardboard jewel box, from a band called Morphine.  I liked the cover art, and since it was on sale (new!) for $1, I took it home, not expecting much.  I put it in my archaic CD player – I had no stereo, just headphones and a long-ass cable – and by the 0:30 mark of the album’s second song, my mind was blown.  The bassline, the pacing, it’s just astounding.  The album came out in 1993, and while like everyone else my age I was swept up in Nirvana and Red Hot Chili Peppers, I quite literally didn’t listen to anything else for a solid month.  I found out the next spring that Morphine would be coming to Minneapolis to play the legendary club First Avenue, which of course my parents forbid me from going to – it was in Uptown!  and Uptown is full of scary people! – but I snuck out of the house during a blizzard and caught Morphine live with maybe 100 other fans.  The show was amazing and intimate – the lead singer, Mark Sandman, talked back and forth with the audience when the drummer broke his kit.  In some ways, I think I got ruined on live shows at that point and have become a snob because if there’s no intimacy at a show, I’d just as soon be at home, listening to whatever on my (very nice) stereo.

To this day, I know every single word on that album, in order, and could sing it unaccompanied in a sensory deprivation tank if I for some reason needed to.

Buena. There’s a 74% chance this is my single favorite song of all time.

Thursday. Arguably Morphine’s “hit” song.  Incomparably groovy.

What It Means To Me
Despite all the problems that the larger music industry has at present, it could be argued that there’s been no better time for individual artists to promote themselves.  The rise of sites and services like MySpace, HypeM, Last.fm, Twitter and Facebook allow artists to promote themselves on a one-to-one basis with their fans.  There’s some great examples of that in action, including the case study of Imogen Heap which I discussed in a previous blog post.  The problem is, how do artists and their labels make any money off of the connection to fans, apart from constant touring?  In a world of free .mp3s (whether given away by artists or outright stolen), I think the solution is coming together: give consumers something they’re proud to have.  Inspire a little bit of “gimme gimme gimme!” in them.

There’s a couple fantastic examples of this that I’ve seen lately.  First and foremost to me, is Warp Records’ 20-year anniversary box set.  The thing is absolutely unreal – a “collector’s edition” par excellence.  Sure, it’s $150, and that’s a hell of a lot of money for something that I’ll be able to torrent or just plain download (illegally) a week after it’s been released, but there’s a whole artifact aspect of it that I think resonates with people who are serious in their fandom.  Similarly, the Pixies are coming out with an over-the-top box set called Minotaur that comes in various versions, the platinum version going for a cool $495.  Lordy.  Less conspicuously, Warp is about to release Hudson Mohawke’s debut LP as a package deal – you get an LP or CD, limited edition t-shirt and sticker, all wrapped up in a butter tub! The album’s called “Butter”, thus the gimmick.

For me – and I’d categorize myself as a connoisseur/snob/enthusiast, so this probably doesn’t apply to Lil’ Wayne or the fucking Jonas Brothers or whatever – any new artist that wants to get me to do anything other than stream their music had better come up with some way to make it worth my while.  I’m not really that into Imogen Heap, but her self-promotion makes me curious.  I’m way more likely to go see her live knowing what I do about the dedication that she puts into promotion.  Likewise, any band or record label that can get me to engage – whether it’s Nosaj Thing tweeting about what he thinks is hot shit (which clues me in to new stuff I wouldn’t have heard of) or it’s Ghostly International inviting me to their 10th anniversary party in an email or tweet – is going to get my attention. On the one hand I feel badly for the amount of work that’s got to go into those promotions, but conversely I think it opens huge doors for artists and labels to really carve out an identity and a passionate following for themselves.

Bottom line: there’s a ton of great music out there, and (s)he who promotes themselves most creatively and effectively will win.  On a business note, M+C is just getting going on a project that’s very close to this whole topic.  Stay tuned!

As your reward for reading all the way to the bottom of this (quite long) post, here’s another banger from the 1990s.  From what might be my 2nd favorite band ever.  The few times during high school that anyone asked me what I wanted to do after college, my smart-ass reply was always “I wanna grow up to be a debaser.” They’d invariably just roll their eyes.