Very soon I will have this area of the site updated with all of my essays. There will also be a search box which might be really handy. I know that there is no such thing as "Under construction, please come back soon" so I'm not going there - DA.
I had a thought during lunch yesterday as I was poring over my Twitter feed. Actually two thoughts. One was about how two nights ago, along with the rest of the world it seemed, I had been following Senator Wendy Davis’s filibuster of the Texas anti-abortion legislation. In turn that inspired a thought about the competition that the newly-minted Oregon Media Group, the digital-first-focused company that will publish the Oregonian newspaper, now faces in a modern variegated media universe.
Let me explain. But first, here’s an AdAge.com article about the Texas filibuster non-coverage by Cable TV news channels.
“If you wanted live coverage of the dramatic filibuster of anti-abortion legislation in Texas last night, the best thing you could do was turn off your television and jump online. Neither CNN nor Fox News nor MSNBC carried special coverage during the lengthy public shouting-down of the bill, which would have restricted abortions in the state to 20 weeks or prior and would have required all abortion clinics to be registered as surgical centers, effectively shutting down most of them (MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow did devote a segment on her primetime show to the filibuster, incorporating footage from the senate’s own internal network).”
So, “turn off your TV and jump online…” Jumping online was the method that hundreds of thousands of people chose, and not necessarily because Cable wasn’t covering what a very large audience segment felt was very important news. Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr all erupted. YouTube had more than 180,000 livestream viewers at the filibuster’s peak. And those social platform users and YouTube viewers were checking in from all over the globe – in other words the audience was enormous. It’s those eyeballs and the resulting clicks that the OMG wants and needs. (That acronym would be funny if things weren’t so serious.)
Bring on the Mad Men and the Barbarians
Of Mad Men, Spider-man, Anne Carson, the Classics and Advertising
By Dave Allen July 25 2013
Lately I’ve taken to sitting down and starting to write an essay with no particular subject in mind. This is one of those, one that has moved beyond the digital version of crumpled up sheets of paper tossed in the wastepaper basket. Why that is so I have no idea, other than to say it kept writing itself – a cliché I know, but I’m going with it.
Should you begin the essay below, you might be inclined to scratch your head and ask “what the hell has any of this got to do with advertising?” Well, other than the obvious references to Mad Men, the answer might appear to be, not much. Yet if you get all the way to the end of it, I would hope that you’ll unearth a few relevant points of reference along the way, as I attempt to weave the Classics, Mad Men, shifts in the social construct, and the travails of “digital” advertising, into a single tapestry. (There are many clues throughout but I decided not to highlight them.) It has been two decades now since the beginning of the great shifts in our culture brought on by the advent of the World Wide Web (and now, Mobile,) and one can often find historical parallels to these cultural shifts everywhere if one cares to look: i.e. technology has been disruptive throughout the ages.
The essay’s underlying subtext, one that I hope meanders as an undercurrent throughout, also has contemporary inspiration – Iain Tait‘s idea of “shaping the connected-world,” of how, with his work at Google Labs he wants to get into “the shaping of products and services, showing people the life-enhancing potential of technology, and helping to get those things into people’s hands,” as outlined in his letter of farewell to Wieden + Kennedy. And Iain is not alone in understanding how society is gradually moving towards “products that do good” and away from standard advertising (we may soon have to find a different descriptor than “advertising”.)
Dan Hon who still works at W+K posted to Medium recently, The Tyranny of Digital Advertising, where he writes, “I’ve done a lot of doing, thinking and trying about what it means to be “interactive,” “digital,” or “non-traditional” at an advertising agency. And man is this shit complicated.” Reading between the lines of Hon’s post, it reads like a prequel to a goodbye letter, maybe he too wants to join Google Labs? Anyway, it’s easy to agree with his “it’s complicated” statement, but it shouldn’t be that way as agencies have had two decades of the Web to sort that shit out. (Dan actually gives a good example of “product thinking” when he links to what Russell Davies, formerly of W+K, is doing with the British Government.)
It is where you place the comma..
By Dave Allen July 2012
Russell Hoban is gone now which saddens me. Yet of course we all surely understand that nothing is permanent – not even our own lives. The Universe is something that we can measure our own time by, yet inevitably we will fail to measure it against the longevity of the stars and their attendant planets. If we are lucky we get four score years to contemplate it, but not much more.
A covenant with God is made from between the pieces of oneself; it’s the only place where a covenant can happen, no covenant is possible until one has divided the heifer, the she-goat, the ram of oneself. The turtle-dove and the pigeon being the heart and soul one of course does not divide them. When Abram sacrificed the animals of himself as instructed by God a deep sleep fell upon him, and the dread and the great darkness from which God spoke. Then came the thick darkness after the sun went down, and in that darkness were the smoking furnace and the flaming torch that passed between the pieces. So here already was shown the main theme of the people of Abraham: the furnace and the torch; the consuming fire and the onward flame.
If you measure with what is called time it’s a long way from here back to Abram’s pieces. But still there is the division of the animals of us, still the thick darkness, the smoking furnace, the flaming torch. And still there are covenants to be made between the pieces, between one fire and another. I am only the waves and particles of such as I was but I have a covenant with the Lord, the terms of it are simple: everything is required of me, for ever.
Chapter 1: Pilgermann by Russell Hoban (February 4, 1925 – December 13, 2011) R.I.P.
More thoughts about the Emily White debate.
The connected world and the disconnected world are not that far apart. You will most likely recall that at some point when you were an adolescent one of your parents uttered a simple statement, often with a deep sigh. It went something like this – “In my day, things were a lot different.” Oh, the sweet bird of youth..also known as the American Dream that so besotted Chance Wayne in Tennessee William’s play of the same name.
In my day. When I was Emily White’s age I recall doing a lot of things that society would frown upon if not completely disapprove of: In my teenage years I used a pocketknife to pilfer a chocolate bar from a vending machine. I would drop a pack of cigarettes into my newspaper bag now and then because I felt that the newsagent that employed me to deliver newspapers was under-paying me. Which meant of course that at about age 14 I was smoking. I drove my car when I’d been drinking. I was by now 17. I religiously tape recorded, every Sunday night, the John Peel show on BBC Radio. I presume that was technically illegal. Then I grew up, formed a band and discovered drugs. I was 21.
I share these personal and somewhat indelicate indiscretions because I feel that as adults we prefer to forget what we did “back then.” Or else that dangerous mode nostalgia takes over, and we only recall the halcyon days of our youth through rose-tinted lenses. And now of course, there’s no forgetting. Everything we do or say online is embedded digitally, pretty much forever. It is the waves and particles of our pre-history as it were. And our covenants are now etched to the web. So some things are permanent.
It is odd that people fear impermanence given how our DNA technically lets us down within about four score years or so, often less. And I apply that fear in context of the Internet. A man-made construct that by existing creates both permanence and impermanence. It creates permanent records, but is the destroyer of the status quo.
Our memories are suspect and our actions often fail us. Just look at how people, when given the chance, will vote in a democracy for the very people who will exploit them and work against their own interests. We forget. Or we simply choose to wipe clean our sentient hard drives.
Technological advances inspire fear in some and excitement in others. Our youth today get really excited about the advances in a society in which, when you are a 20 year old, you have only known the Internet and mobile. No learning or readjustment was required. With those advances in technology came “free” stuff. This is where Internet impermanence sets in. And one of the first things that got kicked into the gutter circa 1993 was the prevailing social construct.
Here my friend Justin Spohn explains a little about that in the context of music file sharing:
But finally, I think it’s a critical distinction because to have an honest conversation, we have to understand the social construct any 21 year old has been born into. Free Gmail, free Facebook, free encyclopedia, free photo sharing, and near constant access to media of any sort. I pay for cable to watch Mad Men, for my 27 year old brother, his first and only thought is find it online. It literally never occurs to him that there is another option. Nor does it occur to him that this might be legitimately viewed as theft. And why would it? He’s not “stealing” from Google when he uses Gmail, or from Tumblr when he sets up a free blog. All these things exist on the spatial plain for him. They’re all just “the internet”.
What’s most amazing to me is how little he actually understands technology. How little it’s physical underpinnings matter to him. Gmail, Twitter, always-on high-speed internet, these things might as well be aspect of nature. And while it might seem weird, or even dangerous to view things made by companies as “nature”, isn’t this really also the point anyone arguing for the preservation of things like the music industry, the publishing industry, or T.V. studios? Those too are nothing more than the architecture that reflects back to us a reality that was disruptive, and then natural, and now leaving us. As much as humans are inclined to believe we are always at the end of history, and that whatever exists now will exist forever, the fact is that the cultural and economic systems existing at any given time are a reflection of the reality in which they were created.
My brother’s generation, and the one’s that followed – like Emily – are the first to see the internet not as collection of technological building blocks needing to be assembled, but as fully functioning infrastructure that is now invisibly infused into their daily lives. They’ve only ever known a world with retweets and reblogs. Photos of gauzy sunsets shared and re-shared thousands of times.
Read Justin’s post here.
The debate about Emily White and whether she is right or wrong will never end. Until it does. It’s about, time.
A strange week in music and tech, ad infinitum
Dave Allen June 2013.
Here we are and it’s only Tuesday.
Now let me be clear, this is not about Paul Krugman or Nate Silver per se. It’s actually about Bob Lefsetz, a self-styled mega-ranter on all things music and its future, who’s Zombie manifesto’s I can only read with great care and in selected doses. Krugman links to Lefsetz’ latest screed in which he conflates Arcade Fire and Nate Silver’s data analyzing prowess with the future of the music industry, ala: “Nate Silver is a superstar. He’s the model for tomorrow’s musical acts, but you just don’t know it yet.” I know Mr Lefsetz wrote his article in English, but his ideas are so garbled he might as well have written it in Latin.
What follows is Krugman’s take wherein those of you who are knowledgeable about how the music industry works will note some inaccuracies:
Over at Barry Ritholtz’s place, Bob Lefsetz argues that Nate Silver’s departure from the Times heralds a new age of journalism in which the individual journalist builds his or her own brand, and the middlemen — like newspapers — lose power. In fact, he compares Nate to Arcade Fire, who pioneered the modern indie rock movement by creating their own position rather than by relying on record companies.
An essay for the Oregon Humanities magazine.
Dave Allen: May 2013
As I begin to mull over what I might be discussing as a speaker at the upcoming SF Musictech Summit I thought I would post this essay, one that I contributed to the Fall/Winter edition of the Oregon Humanities magazine late last year.
It’s an exposition of my thinking around a very fraught topic, one that swirls endlessly around the tired argument that “everyone is stealing music on the Internet,” where ‘everyone’ is never clearly described. Today, with a clear shift in the social construct, we have to accept the notion that people no longer want to purchase music, they simply want convenient access to it wherever they may be.
The backbone of this essay is an attempt to untangle the idea of “an ethical Internet” and although I note that this is a provocative idea it is an idea that has to be approached with caution. I mention the website The Trichordist, a site where artists gather to show their support for, and read articles about how, as the site’s About page puts it, the organization is working to end “the unethical practices of corporations and companies profiting from the illegal exploitation of artists work without consent or compensation.”
Although one of that organization’s leading figures, David Lowery of Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker fame, and me, don’t see eye-to-eye on how to address those problems, I fully support their hard work in clamping down on the illegal use of musicians copyrights and their diligence in getting artists compensated.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Opportunities and ethics in the age of Internet music streaming.
I recently attended a talk by Ira Glass, host of This American Life on NPR, and he said something to the effect of “I try not to predict the future of the radio business, I can only tell you about how it is now.” I liked that as it was a perfect reminder that essaying about the future of music has had a bleak past, and I doubt that anyone in their right mind would care to predict where music is going to be, even by the end of this year. I can only tell you about how it is now.
Earlier this fall, I moderated a talk at the Portland Digital eXperience (PDX) conference between Jason LaCarrubba of Spotify and Peter Szabo of Shazam. LaCarrubba and Szabo were discussing how their companies were searching for and discovering new music. At some point, I had an epiphany. As our on-stage discussion continued, I began feeling a sense of dread as I realized that no one — not the executives at these companies, not the audience, not listeners — was truly interested in helping musicians become part of the daily financial transactions on the Internet.
We’ve all heard of the sharp decline of physical music sales and how digital sales do not fill the gap. Young people are the demographic that drives music sales, and, for the most part, they no longer want to own music. My insight at PDX only confirmed for me how quickly another societal shift has occurred. It’s not just young people: music fans of all ages have embraced the convenient access provided by music streaming services such as Spotify, Pandora, MOG, and Rdio.
With this shift in societal behavior comes many challenges for musicians, some of which I’ll address here. What intrigues me most is this: should we as a society be concerned about the state of the recorded music business, and if so, why?
Let’s begin with the Internet. Chris Anderson, a former executive editor of Wired magazine, calls it a once-in-a-hundred-years technology. It has powerfully disrupted society, culture, and business, as much as the locomotive, electricity, the telephone, the automobile, the jet plane—technologies that transformed the world. In the music industry, the Internet’s disruptive power manifests itself by providing a zero-barrier-to-entry model for budding entrepreneurs and creatives.
Therein lies a tension: because of the Internet, your teenage daughter could destroy my business overnight. How so? One word: Napster.
Napster was created in 1999 by two teenagers, Shawn Fanning and Sean Parker. It was a peer-to-peer platform built to share music across the web as MP3 files. Fanning and Parker were simply being creative in using the Internet’s power. Unlike legitimate online music companies, their company never considered spending millions of dollars on music licensing agreements with record labels and music publishers. Napster lacked the financial means until investors turned up on the scene. Instead, it just used the Internet’s zero-barrier-to-entry model. Napster attracted investment funds and tried to become a legal entity, but it was litigated into a corner by the Recording Industry Association of America. RIAA, which represents the record companies, made the rather puzzling decision to sue its clients’ customers—music fans—for using Napster and Napster-like services. That was probably a first in American business history. The recorded music business has never recovered from that public relations fiasco.
There have been other examples of industries and corporations that failed to keep up with changing technology. Consider Kodak, a company that steadfastly ignored consumer behavior and for its efforts recently went bankrupt. In Kodak’s case, what rocked its cozy institution was society’s embrace of the digital camera. Kodak’s executives apparently refused to believe that people would abandon film for the convenience of digital photography. They saw it as an inferior medium not worthy of their attention and wrongly thought Kodak was in the film business when it was really in the picture business. Executives were blind to what people wanted and what they were really doing. Whatever was going on internally at Kodak, it led them to miss out on a new market. The folks who created Flickr didn’t hesitate in creating a website for photo-sharing, an online ‘digital shoebox.’
This is an example of how executives can make the wrong decisions because of corporate culture and insularity. It was a case of “our executives know best.” In the case of Napster, record company executives fell foul of the same wrongheaded decision-making.
Looking for solutions in an ever-shifting musical landscape
What have musicians been doing about these shifts in the social construct over the last fifteen years? In short, they’ve done much soul-searching and complaining about the Internet “destroying careers” and how “everyone is stealing music.” Now, I don’t want to generalize here. Many young musicians and a small subset of popular musicians have long embraced the “container-less” Internet to distribute their music for free, often very successfully. They are seeking out, and in some cases creating, new markets.
The Internet provides untold opportunities for musicians, which is where I run in to trouble when trying to address these opportunities with musicians. I must apologize to the economist Paul Krugman here as I have repurposed one of his insights, posted to his New York Times blog, when I say that the Internet’s ultimate value to musicians offends musicians’ notions of how things are supposed to work in a capitalist society. They and their supporters reject this theory no matter how well it performs, and throw their support behind other views and other people, no matter how badly they get it wrong.
Once a musician moves from creating music to selling music she enters the world of commerce and partakes in its ups and downs. Those ups and downs begin with a simple fact: just because someone is capable of making music does not mean she will have a successful career in the music business. It has never been easy to build a music career that creates a steady level of income. It has always been an unfathomable mix of talent, luck, charisma, and hard work. Let’s be honest: musical talent is not genetically and democratically distributed. Those who paint the Internet as a sinister mystery, where “everyone” steals music and holds musicians back, cloud the debate. The Internet can have positive effects and opportunities for musicians. The argument that the Internet harms musicians only stands if it is implicitly true.
In a turbulent Internet era, musicians must create new markets. Musicians, unless they are very successful, struggle more than ever to make a living from selling music. This is a problem that can’t be fixed by attempting to have people buy more CDs or digital songs. If we agree that most fans now want to access not own music, then musicians and record labels need to take note of that shift and address it.
The musician Beck offers a good example. He is releasing his new “album” as a book of sheet music called Song Reader. According to the website of its publisher, McSweeney’s, where the ‘book’ is for sale, Beck’s latest project is “an experiment in what an album can be at the end of 2012 — an alternative that enlists the listener in the tone of every track, and that’s as visually absorbing as a dozen gatefold LPs put together.” Beck has created a new market for himself and his music.
Of course, Beck has had a decent and lengthy career in the music industry, so it’s easier for him to do that. This is an argument I hear often. But here’s another successful example of creativity in the music marketplace: twenty-two-year-old Abel Tesfaye, a formerly unknown artist known by his stage name The Weeknd, is a Canadian musician who gained success by releasing three “albums” for free through his website. Beginning in 2011, his releases were ostensibly mixtapes, a common way for hip hop and R&B artists to publicly show off their talents. Tesfaye’s releases won huge accolades from music critics and other artists, resulting in two of his mixtapes being shortlisted for the Canadian Polaris Music Prize Awards even though they weren’t official album releases. He released a debut album, Trilogy, in November, has worked as a co-songwriter with the hip hop star Drake, and has produced a song each for Lady Gaga and Florence and the Machine. He used YouTube to create a new market for himself and his music.
Both of these examples are responses to societal shifts. But there is no one-size-fits-all model. Beck and Tesfaye created models based not only on their audiences, but also on what people are actually doing online. For Beck, releasing sheet music responds to his sense of what his fans are going to do with his music: record their own versions and post them to YouTube or Soundcloud. For Tesfaye, he knows young people use YouTube to find new music, so he began his career by posting his music there.
And there’s nothing new here. Record labels have given away free music to FM radio stations and free videos to MTV for decades.
As recorded music gets reduced to an appropriate file size for delivery across mobile network services and the Web, it is clear that the days of music being enjoyed primarily as a tactile object (e.g., a vinyl album or CD) are behind us. It’s also worth noting that streaming music royalty payments to the majority of artists are ridiculously low. And music is available for free for a generation of young people who have grown up in an age of free: Gmail, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Tumblr, MySpace, Flickr, Skype.
An ethical Internet
A group of musicians and their supporters have floated the idea of “an ethical Internet” on a website called The Trichordist. They want the Internet to be a place where people and companies act in a certain way. This will be quite a challenge. Through my work as a digital strategist, I have long known that people online will not change their behavior because they are asked to do so. Still, it is a provocative idea.
Can the Internet be said to have moral and ethical properties? In Moralizing Technology, Peter-Paul Verbeek, professor of philosophy of technology at the University of Twente in the Netherlands, writes, “Some roles played by technology can be called ‘good’ and others ‘bad’—even if it is not possible to blame technologies for the ‘bad.’”
Verbeek mentions Bruno Latour, a French sociologist and anthropologist, who argues that speed bumps in the road outside schools help us make a moral decision not to drive too fast near a school. Verbeek goes on to say the following:
“Ethics is commonly considered to be an exclusively human affair. The claim that technological artifacts can have morality immediately raises the suspicion that one adheres to a backward form of animism, which equips things with spirit. Material objects do not have minds or consciousness, they lack free will and intentionality and cannot be held responsible for their actions; therefore they cannot be fully fledged parts of the moral community, the argument goes. At the same time though, technologies do help to shape our existence and the moral decisions we take, which undeniably gives them a moral dimension.”
Perhaps, then, by using the Internet, people can make moral decisions. The Internet leaves it up to us to decide how to behave morally, just as speed bumps in the road do. As a construct, the Internet is not ethical. As a technology it cannot be. As a social organization principle, maybe it can, in the same way a government can be ethical.
The folks at The Trichordist are working to help musicians maintain control of their work online, but there are many pitfalls to avoid. One cul-de-sac they entered was the “Google argument.” They accuse Google of making money off the backs of musicians because Google ads appear on infringing websites. I strongly believe this is a huge stretch. Google is not set up to be the Web Police. In fact, Google’s success is a result of the fact that advertising is popular across the Web.
As my friend David Ewald of Uncorked Studios says, “Very few people really take a step back and look at all our parts in the system. Banner ads are only there because people have clicked them in the past. Advertising itself only exists because people buy the stuff advertisers push.”
“While it is just a nugget of a thought,” he continues, “I think there’s something to a reminder that we created the system. Not just technology, not just artists, not just Google or advertising — the interconnectivity of all of us created this ecosystem. Each lever that gets pulled/pushed has an effect on other areas. In the music debate, access/convenience (in current forms anyway) means artists aren’t getting paid.”
This creates a challenge to the idea of an ethical Internet.
The future of music
At the end of 2012, after decades of consolidation, three major record labels remain: Warner Music Group, Universal Music Group, and Sony Entertainment. For each, its executives’ duty, on behalf of shareholders, is to maximize profit. There are also many large independent record labels that tend to be privately held and operate in niche areas. When musicians sign contracts with any label entity, their fortunes are intertwined. By contract, their businesses are inseparable, and making money becomes a necessary part of every equation.
Is society responsible for ensuring musicians have successful careers? Should we be supporting the recorded music business in a time when the desire for music ownership is so low? Perhaps not. But we do have an ethical decision to make: should we support music and musicians by purchasing more music, or should we accept the new social construct wherein most music fans don’t want to own music, only gain free access to it through convenient streaming music services?
The answers to those questions may point to the future of music. Musicians meanwhile need to consider what business they are in.