Day 1, MIDEM Net – Cannes, FR

I have forty-three minutes before my battery runs out and I have to go back upstairs to Room 10, where the wireless internet will not work. So, my summation of MIDEM Net, Day 1 is going to be short and sweet. 

It was a day of lectures in a gorgeous conference hall. In between sessions, three times over the course of the day, there were networking breaks and lunch, and so I managed to place approximately 100 CD’s in the hands of potentially helpful partners. They include everyone from the CEO of iLike to Chuck D, one of the founders of the record label Public Enemy (and what a gentleman he is). Then there was the elegant and articulate founder of several arts and development organizations and the like (one sponsored by US AID) and based in Jamaica; I’ve invited her to join me for dinner this week, hopefully late in the week. We had much to say and it would be fun to compare notes on the entire ‘event’. Many were there representing digital technology in its various forms. MIDEM itself interviewed me for an online net video clip, and I thought I did well enough top perhaps later see my ‘mug’, my face, on TV. The connections were incredible. Someone from Tommy Boy Music ended up with my CD in hand, and I think that was passed on by the A and R from BMI. I don’t know. A very nice man walked up to me to discuss publishing at length, after my question to one panel about which digital format to focus on. Chuck D of Public Enemy took particular interest in my question and told me a secret I won’t forget. You build your audience one fan (one ‘fanatic’) at a time. Later he and his manager gave me their cards and promised feedback on the new album. I hope they pull through. They were gentlemen and their feedback would be wonderful. BBC World was there. I plopped the disc into that guy’s hands. Not everyone had a business card on them, or so they said. But I did my best to make it personal, to request feedback explicitly for this album, and for those who gave me cards, I’ll follow up as soon as is humanly possible. I don’t bullshit in this business; I just want us to help one another. I noticed one publisher, confronted on the panel over this issue of the need for all the parties (ie. including the publishers who seem least willing) can sort out this digital domain mess without the need for legislation.

That is a long, dry subject for most, but for me it was helpful in one sense. There are issues to be aware of when trying to get one’s music to a worldwide audience, and to earn revenue from it. For the independent, it is the problem of not having enough resources to stretch far and wide enough in this sea of providers. There are too many. Each country requires new licenses for music, also, and it’s a performing rights society nightmare, with registration required for each country or region that you distribute music to. It is more complicated than I can explain here, but suffice to say that I was advised to focus on that concept of ‘syndication. Use the .com homepage for commercial transactions, and other networking sites for getting an audience out there to share your music or word of your music with their networks. MySpace is all about that, yet it is essential to be careful not to market to artists strictly. Facebook and iLike are, in fact, going to be more useful to artists in a sense. Also, bundling services and product together with music is a good idea, though no one told me how the hell an artist starting off is supposed to afford that. The producer in the list of speakers made an apt point when he said that we cheapen ‘music’ when we call it ‘content’, and so he chastised the crowd. Regarding brands and branding, there is a new concept out there now called the ‘Love Mark’, which is bigger than the brand, because it involves something sensual and it generates love beyond reason. I found myself wondering (as I have many times) how to turn Orderly Bazaar into a love brand. It just has a good feel to me. Why not to others?

As usual, there was a lot of talk, and at some point in the afternoon my head crashed and burned and I just put it down in my hands and held it, tired. Cannes was warm today, before the sun went down. I managed an early evening nap before going out with my new friend Suzy who, it turns out, sang for the Jackson family (Michael and sisters) for three years. Over pasta with clams and a half carafe of red Italian wine, I listened and she told me tales about inventions and investments re. the music business that are beyond my realm of experience. It was suggested (and it’s good to have a contrasting opinion to what I’m used to in the world) that I be willing to ‘sell’ my catalogue for Bakhoor, the new album, for example, for whatever price (the publishing only, and with the intention to keep 15% of my publishing while turning over 85% to ______???), for $40,000. Now, at the age of 40, I’m sorry, but that is just slightly less than I have invested in this now, and I am NOT selling this album or any of my catalogue for anyone. Yet, it begs the question: what deals would I ‘settle’ on or for? I left my book on music management in England, so I can’t even find a fast and easy answer. Walking down the boulevard in the cold night air and staring at the crowd waiting for ‘someone’ famous to emerge, I found myself wondering: what would I do for fame? Nothing. I prefer riches, and money isn’t even equal to dignity or self respect. Unless someone offered me a respectable deal at my ripe old age of 40, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to accept it. As Suzy fairly said, however, there have to be strings attached. Okay. Good. I would be a formidable but respectable candidate to take on, I think. But why am I even talking about that? I’m not thinking in terms of signing with another label. I have my own. I’m looking for distribution deals.

Fourteen minutes left before my computer crashes, I’d best wrap this up. Tomorrow will be a longer day and it is the day I meet with Steve Greenberg. It is also the day of the opening night for MIDEM, and it’s going to be…busy…crowded…crazy…fun!

Friday, January 25, 2007 Hotel Le Florian, Cannes

Today did not begin, for the night did not end. From the moment I raced from school—where a boy I counseled all but told me he was dealing drugs—to home, I knew yesterday was going to be long. It was, and now I feel as though I’m still back in Manchester, picking up and putting down my CD samplers in shiny plastic sleeves, laughing, and counting. But I’m not. 

I’m at the Hotel Le Florian on Rue Comandante in Cannes down the street from the Palais du Festival and around the corner from the train station. The area is abuzz with casinos, expensive boardwalk restaurants, and French teenagers who congregate on the footsteps of the Palais and at McDonalds, seemingly the only cheap restaurant for miles, if you exclude the shawarma shops.

I caught a free ride by taxi into Cannes from Nice, thanks to a Greek guy I met on the plane who filled me in on MIDEM. He’s been coming for over a decade and confirms that it is the place for world music, though the conference isn’t what it used to me. I was glad to get Dionnisis early in the week, for he was willing to share and he stated what I suspected: you reach a point of fatigue, talking talking listening listening. The hours are long. Ten hours a day can be spent in lectures, then rushing about having meetings with potential partners who are mostly full of shit. “It is after the conference,” he said, “when you find out who means what.” I suspected as much. It was good to hear it and be told to relax, not try too hard, and to expect better results from this. How Tao.

So, now I’m in Cannes, a block from the ‘Why Not?’ hooker bar. I can’t find a wireless connection to save my life and my suitcase entrails are thrown about the bed like I’m staying awhile. I’ve got six days to impress someone and to find that right ‘someone’. Dionnisis’s words about the merits of one online distributor over another ring in my mind. iTunes isn’t the be all and end all. It doesn’t actively promote artists. There are better vehicles. He lists them off.

At some point in the conversation, I noticed at least three others across the aisle bending their ears towards us. Maybe they realized as well as I that, with much to say and little time, it’s critical to read between the lines in a conversation. I wanted to know more about Dionissis’s work to promote Greek artists in countries other than Greece. Melbourne has the biggest Greek community outside of Greece proper. But there’s France, Belgium, Germany, Canada. So, I’d done my homework; my five-year business plan stipulates all of these markets. Something in my head fires off a reminder to focus hard and fast on the stakeholders here at MIDEM connected with my favored audiences.

It’s unfortunate I had to empty my burgeoning carry-on of a book on music management. I had to ask what a 360 was. It’s a full-service deal. I’m thinking ahead to distribution. The discussion turned towards the state of music as an economic industry today and where the money is to be made. For all the hot air about making money from from subscription-based streamed music, “It’s a bit of a dream” said my friend, and I’m inclined to agree. But things change every six months and what’s running through my mind now is how and where to earn income from my music in the short-term as I figure out the digital scene.

Live performance is still the best way to pull in revenue, because no one’s demanding free labor, even if they’re stealing the fruits of it digitally.

Publishing was a subject we touched upon and the converted preached to the converted. Dionissus has worked for majors (major record labels) and is an informed commentator on the goals of the independent (record producer/artist/publisher/label proprietor). You don’t give away publishing, if you can avoid it. The goal is a sub-publishing deal. In other words, one where the artist/creator holds onto 90% of the publishing or potential for future income. It’s standard to share 10%.

There’s much to learn, but at four a.m. I’m tired and it’s time to sleep. My iPod Shuffle Red is a cool little tool which I’ll give to Steve Greenberg of Columbia Records, if our meeting goes well. I’ve loaded it up with the sampler and the .wav files of the album, for best sonic quality.

I’ve packed half a suitcase full (that which wasn’t occupied by the box of CD samplers and boxes of business cards) of warm-ish clothing and exotic, colored scarves, silver jewelry, etc. for my ‘meetings with remarkable men’ (and women), to quote Gurdjieff.

I still have an outstanding homework assignment for my Arts and the Environment class, and I am crying inside for the time to attend to my Sustainable Tourism coursework, but still it is not possible. The juggling continues, and this is life. I’m here and there’s nowhere to be but here. The rest will take care of itself. If only I’ll just relax.