The short answer is "No," but as time goes by, I'm starting to think that independent artists deserve a better response than that. As a keyboardist in a New York City glam/synthpop band, I've heard people blame everything from Napster, Kurt Cobain's suicide, the economy, the subway, and the sound guy. In the end, however, who can we really "blame" when the RIAA threw their hands up long ago, Radiohead handed out their album for whatever their fans decided it was worth (and have been monumentally successful as a result, to add to the puzzle), and the big studios are all closing?
I recently read a book which discussed, in part, the main causes of most plane crashes. The bottom line is that the plane crash most often occurs due to a series of events, as opposed to one major catastrophe. More often than not, the plane ends up crashing because, in essence, people fail to communicate properly with each other. I believe that this lack of communication is the root of any and all conflict throughout history. Furthermore, I believe that in the entertainment industry, we are all guilty as charged; we have whittled down our communications to notes on Facebook and tweets on Twitter. It gets people talking, but it's mostly fluff, as if our fifteen minutes of fame has been appealed and now suddenly we want at least 600 friends instead or it's not happening.
These current issues are all at the root of the question I even ask myself: "What does it take to make it as an independent artist in the music industry today and why is it so goddamn hard?" And let me tell you, I've asked everybody. The lead singer of my band went on a wistful reminiscence of the early 00's New York City electroclash scene, when "people were really into bands like Interpol and The Faint and we fit right in there, man..it was easier." ("Um, it's time for soundcheck." "Oh, yeah.") Alan Wilder, formerly of Depeche Mode and now of Recoil, commented on the "volume wars" and the perpetual battle of how to sell your product in an mp3 market.
Studio owners have cited things as practical as rising real estate and utilities costs, as well as older analog equipment falling into ruin because not only is it difficult to find people to do the repairs, but parts are becoming more scarce. (As the owner of two vintage analog synthesizers, I can attest to this for sure!) Everyone blames the recession, some 90's revivalists in flannel shirts assured me it all changed when Kurt Cobain put that gun in his mouth, and at this point, I'm sure somebody somewhere is pointing the finger at the volcano in Iceland.
In order to really figure out why it's a different game now, what makes it harder, and more importantly, what we can do about it, please open your fifth grade history book to page 101 and start reading the first paragraph about dinosaurs. Relax, I'm not calling all you old-skool studio owners dinosaurs! I'm saying, this is just another pattern of evolution at work. All we have to do is ask ourselves: why does anything become endangered- or worse, extinct? Raise your hand if you know the answer. That's right: failure to adapt, whether intentional or not. The dinosaurs died because something happened which changed their living environment into a world they were no longer equipped to survive in, and could not adapt to. When I was four years old and I found this out, I was really crushed because I had wanted a Stegosaurus as a pet for a while. I think I might have even cried about it.
Well, it's not worth crying about now. We have our answer, and if we're an independent musician, we've never been a part of the mainstream anyway, so we might as well get creative and see what we can do to adapt. I am by no means citing Facebook or Twitter as inadequate methods of promotion; quite the contrary, in fact- and it sure beats standing around Guitar Center handing out flyers in the summer heat, or bribing a local radio station to let you make some awkward announcement: "Um, so, yeah. Come to our show. Punch and pie."
That said, it's hard for an independent artist to make it because now that the music industry is mutating into another life-form right before our eyes (hopefully a more sustainable one than our friends the dinosaurs), everyone wants to jump into the pool for one last swim before the meteorite comes. Sometimes they pee in the pool, too. I won't name names, but if you want to see the phrase "flooded market" come to life, visit New York City, take the L train to Bedford Avenue, get off the train, and just watch the people for a while. (If you like falafel, there's a great place right on the corner called Oasis; check them out!) Here is a veritable mecca of indie culture, with everyone struggling to get their word (or flyer) in edgewise. And speaking of edges, it's a double-edged sword. It's the independent artist's best bet, but it's also their worst nightmare. Now that "indie" music has become more, well, "mainstream," (There, I said it. Please don't take me outside and shoot me) it seems the plot has thickened further. We basically have a thousand bands fighting for fifty spotlights. If you're willing to evolve and develop sharp enough teeth or a thick protective shell, maybe you'll find your place, but without these things, it will be harder still; I know this because I am one of those sensitive, small, plant-eating dinosaurs and I live in constant fear of being devoured.
The best advice I can give to any independent artist today is to stop mourning the fact that the music industry is not what it used to be, and focus on what it could become as our methods of consuming our media change, as the economy picks itself up and dusts off its scabbed knees at last, as the pendulum swings back the other way. If the big studios are closing, then it's a buyers' market, now isn't it? Get in there and make your album, because those guys want your business and their rates will never be this low at this beautiful vintage studios with the best gear you could possibly ask for; it puts your friend's basement to shame! Learn from them while they are still around, because we are the future of the music industry, we the tattered twenty-and-thirty-something youth of the scene. We built the Facebook/Twitter/MySpace empire. We created the Ipod. We wrought new technology upon the world for better or worse, and as long as this is happening, it has never been a better time to be creative and to adapt. If you're looking for big money, go work in an office, and if you're looking for lifelong stability, go get married and buy a house in the suburbs (some of my divorced friends might argue this). But if you're looking for a New World, look around...you're in it, kid!
The independent music scene in New York is a kaleidoscope of genres and styles, a mash-up of struggle and art. Everything's changing and nothing has changed. I would venture to say that there are a few subway musicians who make more money than a lot of the bands playing out right now, but it doesn't mean things are hopeless. It seems the original "indie" style of music is shifting into something a little more experimental, a sturdier mixed bag of influences and talents. While it's true that not as many people buy CD's anymore, I see a lot more people who are into buying vinyl again, myself included. For my parents, it was the expected format, but for me, it's a rarity and a treat: look at this beautiful artwork that can even be framed if you spend $10 on the Vinyl Album Frame at Target! (I'm staring fondly at the sleeve of Kraftwerk's Autobahn hanging majestically on my wall as I type this) And just listen to it...it sounds great! It sounds whole!
I had an interesting conversation with the owner of a studio who admitted to me outright that he might have to close soon. "Some people think things will turn around, but I don't think they will...and I don't know what I'm gonna do now." I listened helplessly as this self-assured, strong-willed 50-year old man's voice cracked a tiny bit, and I remembered when I was a kid and my mom lost her job, and it blew my mind because I thought my mom was a champion and could not be defeated. In that instant, I realized that my elders did not know everything and were not immortal or invincible. I think that was the day that I picked up the slack and took part of the weight of the world on my shoulders so that they wouldn't have to (I was a very serious child).
At the least, that's what we have to do now. And at the most, we have to keep playing, and keep creating, because there is always someone to hear the tree falling in the forest, even if you can go home instead and just download the sound and drop it into Itunes. (It's not the same, though!)
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