Funkymgmt-blog-blog - Funky Management

50 Best Albums of 2013 | Rolling Stone

The past 12 months had more great music going on than any year in recent memory. Some of the most innovative artists of the last decade — Kanye West, Daft Punk, Queens of the Stone Age, Vampire Weekend and Arcade Fire — all made watershed albums. Rock & roll greats like John Fogerty, Paul McCartney and David Bowie proved they could be as vital as ever. The EDM explosion kept blowing up thanks to artists like Disclosure and Avicii; old-school titans like Eminem and Pusha T pushed hip-hop forward alongside new-school innovators like Chance the Rapper, Earl Sweatshirt, J. Cole and Danny Brown; Kacey Musgraves and Ashley Monroe made country that was traditional and iconoclastic. But the most exciting news of the year might've been the astonishing number of breakout new artists, from retro-Eighties sister act Haim, to Brit-folk prodigy Jake Bugg, to indie-rockers Parquet Courts, to post-punkers Savages to chart-topping 17-year-old truth-bomber Lorde. Even Miley Cyrus' wrecking ball of an adult-oriented breakout album was kinda awesome. Oh 2013, you gave so much and asked so little; 2014, get crackin'. You've got a lot to live up to.

Continue Reading

How Ashamed Should You Feel About Using Spotify?

In June, David Lowery, singer-guitarist of Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, posted part of a royalty statement to his blog The Trichordist. Cracker's song "Low," he revealed, had been played 1,159,000 times on Pandora in three months; Lowery, in his capacity as the song’s co-composer, was paid $16.89. For 116,280 plays on Spotify, Lowery got $12.05. Meanwhile, "Low" racked up only 18,797 plays on AM and FM radio stations during the same quarter. But for far fewer spins, Lowery received far more money: $1,373.78, to be exact.

Just last month, Thom Yorke of Radiohead and producer Nigel Godrich pulled their Atoms for Peace project off of Spotify, citing similar inequities in how music-streaming services pay artists. "Make no mistake new artists you discover on #Spotify will [not] get paid,” Yorke declared on Twitter. “[M]eanwhile shareholders will shortly [be] rolling in it. Simples."

Maybe. Or maybe it's not quite as simples as that. The image of wide-eyed young musicians having their lunches eaten by rapacious corporations is pretty compelling, and the ongoing collapse of the record business makes it look even scarier. The week ending July 28 had the lowest total album sales documented since Billboard started using Soundscan to track sales in 1991.

But it's also worth considering who's paying whom when music gets streamed, and how that might change. Whenever you read a shockingly low number and worry about the fate of your favorite band, it's worth keeping three things in mind.

1) "The music business" is not the same thing as "the recorded music business"—especially for musicians. A recent survey by the Future of Music Coalition found that, on average, 6 percent of musicians' income comes from sound recordings. That's not an insignificant amount, but it's also a lot less than what nonmusicians might guess. (And, although there isn't reliable data from the pre-Napster era, anecdotal evidence suggests that the percentage has never been much higher.) Recordings are how listeners generally spend the most time experiencing music, but not how we spend the most money experiencing music. In practice, recordings mostly serve as promotion for the other ways musicians make money: performing, most of all, but also salaries for playing in orchestras and other groups, session work, and so on.  

Continue Reading

Chance the Rapper, with 'Acid Rap' Mixtape, Meets the Legal Black Hole Around Unsigned Artists

                      Nearly a decade after the mixtape wars of the mid-2000s, the format still resides in an awkward limbo for retailers, distributors, artists and labels. Many retailers stopped carrying mixtapes after the RIAA proved litigious against the sale of unofficial releases, leading police raids on several retailers in 2005 and on the offices of DJ Drama in 2007. But mixtapes remain a critical promotional tool in the industry, particularly among hip-hop artists, where they often rival official albums. Outside the purview of the major-label system, sales of the format have persisted.

Last month, a mixtape album by unsigned artist Chance the Rapper available as a free download landed at No. 63 on Billboard's Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart, having sold 1,000 copies in the week ending July 7, according to Nielsen SoundScan. The collection of original music, "Acid Rap," was sold through iTunes and Amazon, despite having been offered for free on the artist's website since April 30. After representatives of the artist claimed that the sales were being made without their knowledge or compensation, digital versions of the tape were quickly pulled from both retailers. But on Amazon, an apparently unauthorized physical version of "Acid Rap," credited to a company called "Mtc," continues to be sold at press time for $14.83.

"I've never heard of Mtc, so this has taken us by surprise," Chance's manager Patrick Corcoran says. "But when I first saw it I showed Chance, and his lawyers are trying to stop it."

Continue Reading

How The Hot 100 Became America's Hit Barometer

Hear that? On the radio? That slick, dreamy crooner dude, singing about how he's going out of his mind over that girl? Well, she's an animal — baby, it's in her nature. He used to play around with hearts that hastened at his call. But when he met that little girl, he knew that he would fall.

Wait a sec ... what song is this? Which dreamy dude is this? What year is this?

Perhaps it's the first week of August, 1958, when the top song in America was Ricky Nelson's "Poor Little Fool" — the first No. 1 song ever on the Billboard Hot 100. The week Billboardlaunched what would become the premier singles chart in America, the list was led by the smooth-as-milk Nelson, acting the part of a player who'd met his match—bewitched by a woman who, it turns out, is even faster than he is.

Fifty-five years later, to the week, we find the Hot 100 topped by "Blurred Lines," a ditty from the smooth-as-milk Robin Thicke. It's about a player who's ... bewitched by a woman who's faster than he is.

So, yeah, gender politics in pop music have scarcely evolved in a half-century—plus ça changeand all that. (Trust: 28-year-old Ricky Nelson had swag. If he'd known in 1958 what a music video was, he'd have shot one with ladies in various states of undress, too.)

The better question is this: How is it that, half a century later, we still follow a chart called the Hot 100 to measure which songs are dominating our earbuds, our streets, our beaches, our dancefloors, our American lives? We don't listen to transistor radios anymore, or buy seven-inch 45-RPM vinyl (not in quantity, anyway). Why is this chart still around?

The Hot 100 was designed to adapt. It's a voracious creature, built to absorb whatever medium is delivering music to the masses at any given time. It's not perfect — any chart where Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Missy Elliott peak only at No. 2 can't be — but this chart, designed for the music business and followed by pop nerds like me worldwide, is still the best benchmark we have to measure the bigness of hits.

Continue Reading