Friday, August 3, 2012

EQ

Music is everywhere. Everyone listens to it. Look around you: on the bus and in the streets the majority of people under 30 are wearing headphones, and those in an older age bracket can be seen sporting them. Headphones are part of our apparel; in-ear, on-ear and over-ear. They're built into hats and earmuffs. Music is on the radio at work, it's coming from CDs, radios and mp3 players in every car. We can choose our environment. I don't have to listen to whatever is playing in a store while I'm shopping, and I don't even have to hear what's going on outside. Except during human interaction (and some other situations), we control what we hear.

And it's not just musicians or so-called music-lovers who are doing it. The accessibility and ubiquitousness of music has fundamentally changed its nature. Hearing music no longer means playing it yourself; it no longer means going to a recital or a concert; and you're no longer confined to your living room to listen to it. More accessibility means more possibilities for musicians, and opens the opportunity for more musicians to enter the market. Once upon a time most people who listened to music were musicians themselves. Now with the world wide open anybody and everybody has access to it and listens to something. Anything. Furthermore, with the expansion of music from a niche market into a huge consumer business, it is no longer necessarily strictly about music. I'm not going to turn this entry into a complaint that "big business is ruining music, and there is so much terrible music out there and no one knows what real art is anymore" because there will always be bad music. And there will always be music that does not appeal to a large group of people. And there will always be people who take advantage of a current trend to be popular. There will always be empty music.

What I'm more concerned about is what this means for today's musician. How does it affect us when music is so easily accessible and there are so many others to compete with? Over-saturation can cause some serious problems, particularly when music is not the only medium being over-saturated. Film/tv (traditional and modern/internet), music, literature and gaming are all arts that have had their doors opened to the public. The line is being blurred between professional and amateur, specifically if we're dealing with the financial definition of the terms. Now people with enough disposable income can purchase the necessary instruments, recording tools and software and offer their music for free or pitifully low prices on their own website, or through other providers like YouTube and bandcamp.

I say pitifully low because I have a bit of a bone to pick with artists. The old joke "What's the difference between a musician and a park bench?" (A: the bench can support a family of four) is getting, well, old. It's moved on from being a reality that many musicians will face to a sad self-fulfilling prophecy. When I started studying music at university I would join in these moments of jest, but after a while it started sounding a little whiny. It was a way of making their lives sound that much harder than everyone else's. They had resigned themselves to a life of poverty.

Yes, a lot of artists are underpaid. Art has been undervalued and devalued, by both the consumers and the artists themselves. Not every gig is going to pay your rent bill. And sometimes you will play for free. I have no problem with that. Even if you're a hotshot, you can't expect a non-profit organisation to put up five bills for your quartet to play background music at an event. And that's okay.
However, having said that, my problem is this: artists are putting themselves in a situation where they have lessened the value or their work and, increasingly, consumers are expecting to consume for less and less to the point where obtaining music for free is okay.

Put a price on your art. Do it. It's not free and it's not okay that people expect it to be. You have a right to be compensated for your spirit and your work. Saying a CD costs 10$ doesn't mean it's worth 10$. But don't confuse creating a value for your art with doing your art solely for money. There's a huge difference. I didn't go back to school for music because I wanted to make a living from music, but rather I want to live to make music. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's a subtle and important distinction.
If you teach music lessons, you may be doing it because you love it, but you shouldn't devalue it. You're passing on valuable knowledge. And it's a little sad, but if you attach a monetary value to something, people will appreciate it more. A student will think twice about cancelling a lesson if it means a monetary penalty; they might think twice about skipping practicing for a few days if they think their next lesson is going to be a bust, and thus a waste of money.
Free albums on-line become more disposable. What are you going to do with them all? Instead of purchasing say 7 or 8 albums a year, you could probably download one a week. It becomes something that you consume and digest rather than absorb. How many of those 52 albums will keep on listening to? But now it's about eating more and more music. Whatever is most accessible is most readily consumed. Musicians are expected to produce more albums and more frequently. Haven't put out a CD in three years? If you haven't toured in six months, you might as well be dead. So-called amateur musicians releasing free material undermines others who are trying to become professionals; and professionals releasing free material creates a larger rift between those at the top and those on their way up.

You can make a difference if you want to. Not everyone will be successful, but the same goes in every field. But if you want people to take you seriously, start acting that way. We're up against a tough playing field, but that doesn't mean it's hopeless.