Something I've learned since starting ArtistShare is that the new "music business" is not so much a business but a platform for creating bonds between the artist and the fan. From that bond, fans will show their appreciation for the music in various ways which may include a purchase of some kind but also may not. It doesn't matter. A relationship built today will most likely turn into a purchase later and if it never does I can guarantee that it will at the very least turn into more fans which is even more valuable. The relationship is the most important asset in this business, not the sale. So why do so many artists resist this? My theory is that is does not fall conveniently into the of idea of being an "artist." For years, the recording industry has preyed on the psyche of the artist by feeding their egos and giving them the "star" treatment while simultaneously putting them into debt. I even had a conversation with a very well known artist who admitted that he knew he was getting taken advantage of but could not let go of the idea of the "limo at the airport" and the overall pampering thatin the endhe was paying for, and at premium prices! Creating and maintaining fan relationships can be as artistically fulfilling as the music itself and even more uplifting than the "limo at the airport." It all depends on how you approach it and it starts with developing a personal understanding of what the fan relationship means to you.
My friends over the years have taught me an awful lot about this very subject. I would like to share with you some experiences that hopefully will be as inspiring to you as they were to me.
Making the right decisions.
I ran into my friend Trey Anastasio and his wife Sue on Columbus Avenue a few weeks ago. I have known Trey for many years now and in the past have worked with him on his solo projects and even did some horn arrangements for Phish concerts back in the '90s. We started talking about the state of music today and the good old days back in Burlington VT when Phish was just starting out. We discussed how much more difficult it is these days for young musicians to make their mark with all of the noise out there. We then started discussing the choices each of us were making with regards to how we approached presenting the music to fans. Trey said, "Before we make any decisions we always ask ourselves 'What is this going to look like in ten years to us and our fans?.'" I instantly recalled that roughly ten years earlier I was sitting with Trey in the Phish offices discussing string parts for a record he was making. His manager walked in with a huge box filled with thousands of cards. As Trey and I continued he was taking each of the cards out of the box and signing them. I asked him what he was doing and he said nonchalantly "Oh, these are birthday cards for our fans. If we have their address we send them a card on their birthday every year." At this time Phish were already bonafide rock-stars selling out stadiums nationwide. They had already achieved unprecedented success and there was no reason for him to sit there and sign thousands of cards. Couldn't he have an assistant do it? But Trey would never view things this way. Receiving a personal birthday card from Phish is undoubtedly an unforgettable experience for any fan but for Trey and the band they considered it an honor to do so as the fans were allowing them to continue to do what they are most passionate about, make music. Trey completely understands that music is a two way street and the rewards on both ends are priceless. Every decision they make is with an eye towards preserving the integrity of the band, the music and most importantly the relationships with the fans. If one does not lose sight of that, they will have a long and meaningful career. What does that look like ten years later, Trey? The same as it does today. Gracious and beautiful.
The music is the payoff, there is no other reward.
Speaking of rewards, I remember my first lesson with guitarist Jim Hall. I was a bit nervous and I am sure very naïve. Jim asked me what I wanted to do with music. I told him that I just wanted to be able to make a living playing jazz. He looked at me rather sternly and said "The music is the payoff. There is no other reward." I was a bit embarrassed and stunned by his response but that line has stuck with me for over twenty-five years and he is absolutely right. Money comes and goes but the mark you make with music and the rewards both given and received make you richer than most. I recently traveled to Italy with Jim where he performed a concert in a castle in the remote mountain village of Monteroduni. Fans traveled for miles, some for days, to this remote location just to hear him. The memory of the music and the friends we made will last forever. Long after the money has been spent.
Jazz and the blues--because together this musical brother and sister speak from our nation's days of the current cultural affairs and the authenticity and truth of a place where the rhythms held the pulse and the drums the heartbeat, representing every step closer the meat on the bone
Jazz and the blues--because together this musical brother and sister speak from our nation's days of the current cultural affairs and the authenticity and truth of a place where the rhythms held the pulse and the drums the heartbeat, representing every step closer the meat on the bone. Feet in the dirt, or barefoot on a stage with sequins--it's soul beats in my chest.
I was first exposed to jazz while others listened to surf music in the '50s and '60s, it was Monk, Miles, Satchmo and Ella, Rosemary Clooney and Julie London followed. Margaret Whiting, Les McCann, Willie Bobo, Andy Simpkins, Snooky Young, Bill Basie and Helen Humes. The first time I heard Topsy, Take 2, I about passed out at the age of ten.
I've hung with Les McCann who more than 30 years after our first meeting became my duet partner on my CD, Don't Go To Strangers. Karen Hernandez from the start, Jack Le Compte on drums, Lou Shoch on bass, Steve Rawlins as my arranger and pianist, Grant Geissman - guitar genius, Nolan Shaheed, Richard Simon, and more. The big boys. My Red Hot Papas. The best show I ever attended was...
I met Helen Humes first back in 1981 and helped turn one Playboy Jazz Festival night into her tribute, bring the Basie Band to stage, her joy boys. Before she took the stage for the last time to sing, If I could Be With You One Hour Tonight thousands of copies of the newspaper I wrote for carried her story. It was kismet, her being held by Joe Williams backstage. Soon in my life were the great Linda Hopkins who told me I sang the song she wrote better than her, which floored me of course, the energizing Barbara Morrison and the stellar Marilyn Maye who guided me professionally.
My advice to new listeners... let your backbone slip and feel your body stripping back the barriers that prevent us from being one with the music.
Remember none of us are strangers, we just haven't met yet.