The 500 - #341 - Play - Moby

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 341

Album Title: Play

Artist: Moby

Genre: Electronica, Downtempo, Techno-Ambient

Recorded: Moby's Home Studio (Manhattan)

Released: May, 1999

My age at release: 34

How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite

Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Natural Blues

Between 1998 and 2010, I worked as a weekend bartender at Garlics Restaurant in my hometown of London, Ontario.  It is located on a trendy stretch of Richmond Row, beside the Grand Theatre and a short walk from the John Labatt Centre (now Budweiser Gardens).

Garlics of London (formerly Garlics Restaurant) London, ON

One of the many terrific things about working behind a bar in a busy, downtown bistro was serving the late night crowd -- aka "The Jazz Crowd". They were the patrons who arrived without a pressing agenda, not trying to squeeze in a meal before going to the theatre or a concert. They usually weren't driving, so they happily ordered multiple bottles of wine or sampled several signature cocktails, martinis and craft beers. They were, like jazz, a free-flowing, easy-going, collection of eclectic spirits.

Garlics bar (since renovated) - my weekend home for 12 years

By contrast, the pre-theatre crowd was often pressed for time, excited to eat and drink before a performance. We had to get them seated, served and shipped before the curtain went up at 8:00 sharp -- all without seeming as if anyone was in a hurry. This was a team effort pulled off by everyone from the host to the cooking staff, ever-visible in our open concept kitchen. It required a balancing act, coupling efficiency, manners and an easy-going disposition. Like the proverbial duck, we were composed on top and paddling furiously beneath the surface. 

The tension relaxed after 8:00 on a Friday or Saturday night, shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, kitchen staff spelled each other for breaks (usually a cigarette) and I was at liberty to change the music in the Compact Disc player. Systematically, I would swap out the jazz standards and easy, familiar coffee-house and world music selections for discs that were more uptempo, avante-garde and even risque.  

Garlics' theatre seating standards (circa 2000)

In the early 2000s, one of my favourite discs to shuffle into the Compact Disc carousel mix was Play by Moby. Released in the spring of 1999, it is the fifth record by multi-instrumentalist and electronic musician Moby (born: Richard Melville Hall). 

Moby (early 2000s)

My first exposure to Moby came with the release of the Danny Boyle film The Beach, starring Leonardo Dicaprio, who was white-hot following his performance in the mega-hit Titanic. Moby's song, Porcelain, was featured in the movie's trailer. It, like many of the tracks on this record, immediately grabs your attention. The slow, atmospheric groove is haunting and lush. Porcelain and Natural Blues were the two tracks that invariably motivated a Garlics' patron to head to the bar and ask, "Who is this?"

I haven't listened through Play in many years, until recently. It was a blast of early 2K nostalgia. Unlike some of the other discs we played at Garlics, Play is not anxiety-inducing. Whenever I hear the soundtrack to Big Night or Willie and Lobo's Caliente, I am reminded of the urgency that accompanied a pre-theatre seating. Conversely, Play reminds me of calmly polishing wine glasses as the late night jazz crowd breezed leisurely through the restaurant's front doors. Another memory, another time.

 

The 500 - #342 - Violator - Depeche Mode

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 342

Album Title: Violator

Artist: Depeche Mode

Genre: Synth Pop, Gothic Rock

Recorded: 5 Studios - Italy, Denmark, UK, New York

Released: March, 1990

My age at release: 24

How familiar was I with it before this week: A little

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #167 (Up 175 places)

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Personal Jesus (Acoustic)

Depeche Mode were one of the many British synth-pop bands that I dismissed off-hand in my teens and early twenties. My dismissal was largely due to the social clique with which I aligned. I was a committed rocker (a prog-rocker no less) and, as a young man, that commitment was, well, rock solid. Preppies were the cultural enemy, and preppies loved The Smiths, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Cure and this week's artist, Depeche Mode. (Four bands who, collectively, have seven records on The 500).

Stereotypical 80s Preppies

What is it about opinionated teens? That's not fair. It isn't just teens. The world is full of opinionated people, many operating with limited, incorrect or misguided information.

According to psychologists, being zealously opinionated is usually about control. In this line of thinking, obnoxiously opinionated people are often struggling with their emotional intelligence -- the ability to perceive, regulate and manage their emotions. Consequently, they fight vociferously for their assumptions -- which often represent an emotional and intellectual safe-space for them. I suppose that is why teens and young adults can be disproportionately opinionated.

As a Grade 7 educator, the importance of fostering critical thinking in my students is important to me, particularly as their world view shifts from black and white to complex shades of gray. The task is to encourage my young charges to question things in their world and to appreciate different perspectives. In class, we often discuss the complex motivations of a fictional character or the myriad causes for an event from history.

Perhaps I am hoping they won’t make the same teen-age mistakes I made. Some of the things I espoused in vigorous defence of my opinions still make me shudder. My uniformed disregard for Depeche Mode’s music was, at the outset, a hill to defend. How times can change one’s perspective. In my recent review of the group’s output, I did a 180-degree turn.

Violator is the seventh studio release by the group from Basildon, a large town 42 km east of central London. Influenced by Talking Heads, David Bowie, Ultravox, The Damned and Iggy Pop, Depeche formed in 1980, taking their name from a French fashion magazine. Roughly translated, Depeche Mode means "Fashion Dispatch" or, more simply, "Fashion News".

Depeche Mode in 1990

The band enjoyed early success in Europe and Australia. The 1981 song, Just Can't Get Enough, from their debut album, Speak and Spell, had limited airplay in North America. It was also the first time I heard them. At the time, I was 15 and still solidifying my taste in music. Consequently, I didn't mind the song when it was played on pop radio stations. 

In March, 1984, the band released People Are People in advance of their upcoming record Some Great Reward. The single and album cemented their success internationally. It was also a departure from their earlier synth-sound as they began experimenting with harsher industrial sounds. The genre of industrial music is noted for its abrasive, avant-garde fusion of rock and electronic music with the rhythmic, albeit sometimes cacophonous, clang of metal pipes and machinery. 

This was the music of the club-scene in the mid-eighties, about the time my friends and I were old enough to go to clubs. Collectively, we unequivocally decided we hated industrial club music. Group-think had locked in and I went along despite my earlier tolerance. We endured the club-scene but retreated to the safe space of our favourite high school sounds in our cars and homes. We were not going to enjoy "preppy music" no matter how popular it got.

By the time Violator was released in 1990, my opinion was softening and, quietly, I enjoyed the two biggest songs from the record, Enjoy The Silence and Personal Jesus. In 2002, Johnny Cash recorded a hauntingly beautiful version of the latter for his record American IV: The Man Comes Around. This track reinforced my appreciation for Depeche Mode as songwriters. Indeed, Personal Jesus is recognized in several music publications as "one of the greatest songs ever written".

Album Cover for American IV: The Man Comes Around

Much like Cash, I have also "come around". I was operating with limited information as a young man and my emotional intelligence has improved. I'm okay with "preppy music" now. It turns out that I should have been all along.

The 500 - #343 - Bat Out Of Hell - Meat Loaf

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 343

Album Title: Bat Out Of Hell

Artist: Meat Loaf

Genre: Hard Rock, Rock, Pop,

Recorded: Several Studios in the New York area

Released: October, 1977

My age at release: 12

How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

(Selected by my colleague and Sir Arthur Currie Principal, Sue Bruyns)

In Ontario education, we often use the term "transition years" to refer to students in grades seven and eight. In part, it references their transition from elementary to high school. However, perhaps more importantly, the term "transition" delineates that sometimes awkward but also enlightening period when adolescents begin to discover their own identity. Their world, which has been predictably black and white, somehow transforms to complex shades of gray.

During this formative period, most adolescents begin to develop their taste in music. It's an exciting time as new melodic discoveries imprint themselves onto the fabric of their emerging selves. In my grade seven classroom, I begin the year by building a Spotify playlist based on suggestions from my students. I’m always delighted by the eclectic collection that is created. This year's list includes hip-hop, dance tracks, music from an anime television series, heavy metal and even a banger from Queen, one of my favourite bands.

Bat Out Of Hell, the debut record from Texas-born singer Meat Loaf (born Marvin Lee Aday) and composer Jim Steinman was one of those records that connected with me. It was released in the autumn of 1977 when I was 12 years old and in my "transition years" attending Jack Miner Public School in Kingsville, a small farming and fishing community on the shores of Lake Erie.

The second single from the record, Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad, was in heavy rotation on the two rock radio stations my friends and I listened to -- Detroit's WRIF (The Riff) or WWWW (W4).

However, my first chance to hear the entire record came when I attended a birthday party. Jari, the birthday celebrant, had arrived from Finland the previous year. He was two years my senior but had been placed in elementary school because he was learning English. We bonded over games of road hockey, but he also had high-school friends. Consequently, I was the youngest person attending that party and it was an eye-opening experience. I left feeling slightly more mature and desperate to add Bat Out Of Hell to my record collection.

Jim Steinman (left) and Meat Loaf

Occasionally, the family would travel to the Devonshire Mall in Windsor, across from Detroit. For the first few years, my favourite destination was dinner at a Steak and Burger  where I could order three maraschino cherries in my Shirley Temple mocktail. By 1977, I was more interested in the record store...and to heck with the cherries.

When I pulled the Meat Loaf record from the rack in the Devonshire Mall music store I instinctively knew the cover would be problematic for my mother. She had already denied an earlier effort to purchase the KISS record, Alive II, because singer/bassist Gene Simmons was depicted drooling blood.

Her reaction to the album cover was understandable. Created by American illustrator Richard Corben, it depicted a motorcycle, ridden by a long-haired man, bursting out of a gravesite. A fiery background featuring a giant bat perched atop a mausoleum appeared demonic. 

Ironically, the disquieting  imagery, does not accurately represent the music on the disk. Bat Out Of Hell is best described as rock-inspired musical theatre -- a collection of power ballads, raucous piano driven rock and 50s style doo-wop. Singer Meat Loaf’s powerful, multi-octave voice belted out riveting theatrical performances. The accompanying musicians went on to be legends in the music industry, including Todd Rundgren (guitar), Steinman (piano), Max Weinberg (drums), Kasim Sulton (bass) and Edgar Winter (saxophone). Ellen Foley, a future star of Broadway and television, provided additional lead and backing vocals. 

Touring singer, Karla Devito, with Meat Loaf in concert (1977)

I didn't purchase Bat Out Of Hell on that trip to the Devonshire Mall. If memory serves, I got the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever instead. Several years later, while working at a group home for girls, my mother heard and became a fan of the Meat Loaf record. When I spoke to her over the weekend, she agreed that it is a terrific album. Re-listening to it in preparation for this post reminded me of how deeply woven it is into my identity. Every track filled me with the warmth of nostalgia, taking me back to those wonderful, awkward days of pre-teen transition.

The 500 - #344 - Berlin - Lou Reed

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 344

Album Title: Berlin

Artist: Lou Reed

Genre: Rock, Art Rock

Recorded: Morgan Studios, London and The Record Plant, NYC

Released: October, 1973

My age at release: 8

How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Sad Song

In 1973, Lou Reed was enjoying tremendous success commercially and critically. Throughout the sixties, Reed had been the principal songwriter, guitarist and singer of the influential art-rock collective, The Velvet Underground, a group with four albums on #The 500.

The Velvet Underground - Reed is bottom right

After leaving his bandmates to pursue a solo career, he released the groundbreaking record Transformer in 1972. Produced by David Bowie and Mick Ronson, the record is regarded as an "influential landmark in the glam rock genre" It is ranked at #194 on The 500.

Reed returned to the studio in the spring of 1973 to begin working on his third solo record, a tragic rock opera he named Berlin. This time Reed worked with Canadian producer Bob Ezrin. Ezrin, 24 at the time, had started to make a name for himself through his work with Alice Cooper. However, he would go on to work with many legendary bands and artists, many with records on The 500 list including, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Peter Gabriel and KISS.

Bob Ezrin (left) with Alice Cooper (1975)

The concept for the Berlin album began when Ezrin told Reed that his songs were powerful narratives with compelling characters that had "great beginnings, but didn't have an end". Specifically, Ezrin asked about the song with the same name, Berlin, from Reed's first album. In that song, Reed introduces two young lovers out on a date in the German city, from which it and his third album take their name.

Lou Reed's self-titled debut (which contains the song Berlin

Reed was inspired and began to craft the music and lyrics for a 50-minute rock-opera that details the brutal, tragic lives of Caroline and Jim. The album explores themes of depression, drug use, prostitution, domestic violence and ultimately suicide.

Berlin, the album, was poorly received on release. Rolling Stone magazine writer Stephen Davis wrote:

"Lou Reed's Berlin is a disaster, taking the listener into a distorted and degenerate demimonde of paranoia, schizophrenia, degradation, pill-induced violence and suicide. There are certain records that are so patently offensive that one wishes to take some kind of physical vengeance on the artists that perpetrate them.”

I’ll admit, the rock opera is not an easy listen, particularly once you understand the lyrics. However, as a teen I would have loved this record. My teens were a period when I devoured dark, depressing and gritty media, be they novels, films, albums or non-fiction documentaries. I read, nearly exclusively, horror novels and violent fantasy-literature. My favourite films, although critically acclaimed, were also brutally violent historical dramas (Apocalypse Now, Platoon, Full Metal Jacket), or troubling, dystopian science fiction flicks (A Clockwork Orange, The Warriors, Mad Max: The Road Warrior, Brazil).

A selection of my favourite films as a teen.

I was also fascinated by the darkest chapters of human history (The Holocaust, Pinochet, Steven Biko, The Khmer Rouge). Increasingly, my views of governments, even my own, darkened -- almost to the point that I became conspiratorial.

Fortunately time changes people, although I still enjoy a well-written tragedy or dystopian narrative (Breaking Bad, The Wire, Black Mirror), but, more often, I opt for silly escapism or light-hearted comedy. In the past week, my wife and I watched the comedy adventure Free Guy and we finished Season Two of the hysterical and infectiously positive Ted Lasso.

Likely, the passage of time nurtured my emotional maturity and I've realized that life is too short to intentionally inflict misery on yourself.

To borrow a line from the final song on Reed's Berlin:

"Sad Song, Sad Song
I'm gonna stop wasting my time".

The 500 - #345 - Stop Making Sense - Talking Heads

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 345

Album Title: Stop Making Sense

Artist: Talking Heads

Genre: New Wave, Post Punk

Recorded: Pantages Theatre, Los Angeles (Live)

Released: September, 1984

My age at release: 19, my guest blogger was 17

How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Once In A Lifetime

This week, we welcome back guest blogger Steve “Lumpy” Sullivan. “Lump”, as he is known to friends, previously wrote about album #417, Boy, by U2 in the summer of 2020.  He’s been a close friend for nearly 30 years. We met when he hired me as a bartender at Kelsey’s Restaurant in London, Ontario, in 1993. For the past 12 years he has  worked  at the Frobisher Inn  in Iqaluit,  but plans to leave the Arctic for semi-retirement in the Philippines with his wife, Mae. Enjoy his take on a record that we both adore.

 

Stop Making Sense is the title for both the soundtrack and the 1984 film by experimental New Wave/Post Punk American band, Talking Heads. The film was directed by future Academy award-winning director Jonathan Demme (Silence Of The Lambs, Philadelphia). The filming was completed during four live performances at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood, California, in December, 1983.

Director Jonathan Demme

The concert video was released commercially in October, 1984, about a month after the soundtrack hit record shelves. The film is considered by many, including well-known critic Leonard Maltin, to be one of the best concert films of all time. The band performed 19 songs throughout the live performances. Sixteen tracks made it to the original film and nine appeared on the release of the record that is listed on The 500. In 1999, the film and soundtrack were released as a Special Edition version, containing most of the missing tracks.

I was in Grade 11 in 1984 at the time and a HUGE fan of Talking Heads, as was my friend, Gavin Granger. When the film hit theatres we lined up for the midnight showing at the Hyland Theatre in our hometown of London, Ontario. We were so excited and the performance did not disappoint.

London's Hyland Theatre - operating for more than 50 years

Unbeknownst to me at the time, this was the first concert film made using digital audio techniques, a burgeoning technology in the early 80s. The Talking Heads were always ahead of the curve. They were a collection of four artistic people collaborating as a group: David Byrne (lead vocals and guitar), Tina Weymouth (bass), Chris Frantz (drums) and Jerry Harrison (Keyboards). Marc covered their formation and history in his February, 2021 post -- Album #383, More Songs About Buildings And Food.

Talking Heads - 1980 (l-r) Frantz, Weymouth, Byrne & Harrison

The album spent two years on the Billboard 200 chart. The track listing reads like a greatest hits package. It’s tough to think about the album without reflecting on the visuals in the film for which it is the soundtrack. The live show opens with Byrne walking on-stage with an acoustic guitar and a “boom box”. He performs an acoustic version of Psycho Killer from their debut album, Talking Heads ‘77 (coming up at #291). The boom box appears to be playing an electronic drum track to accompany Byrne, but it was actually a Roland TR808 Drum Machine cued at the soundboard.

Byrne in Stop Making Sense, performing Psycho Killer to open the show

With each subsequent track, another band member appears on stage to perform alongside Byrne, as stage crew slide set-pieces and instruments into place. Eventually, a nine-piece group, including the four original members, are on stage. The nine comprise a larger, theatrical company of musicians. Renowned percussionist Steve Scales, for example, joins the group to help deliver the infectiously funky rhythms on Burning Down the House from Talking Heads’ 1983 record, Speaking In Tongues.

Percussionist Steve Scales (2017)

For me, there are several highlights in this performance. The first occurs when the band plays What a Day That Was from David Byrne’s solo album, The Catherine Wheel. The other was the inclusion of Genius of Love by the Tom Tom Club, which was a side product for members Frantz and Weymouth, who are also husband and wife. Unfortunately, the second track did not make the original soundtrack release, but was included in the Special Edition version.

The added musicians: Scales on percussion, Bernie Worrell on keyboards, Alex Weir on guitar, Ednah Holt and Lynn Mabry for backing vocals, added layers to each song on the album. The album is listed as ‘new wave’ and ‘post punk’, but there is a lot more going on. There are elements of dance, funk and Afro-beat world music. Songs that were brilliant on their original albums were much more layered and richer in sound when performed live with additional musicians.

My favourite track on the album, and the one I am picking for Marc’s Spotify Playlist, is Once in a Lifetime. This incredible concert movie is stored on my iPhone and I watch or listen to it often, remembering that early-winter night in 1984 standing in line with Gavin for a midnight showing.

The 500 - #346 - 3 Feet High and Rising - De La Soul

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

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Album: # 346

Album Title: 3 Feet High And Rising

Artist: De La Soul

Genre: Alternative Hip Hop, Progressive Rap, Jazz Rap, Psychedelic Hip Hop

Recorded: Calliope Studios, New York and Island Media Studios, West Babylon

Released: March, 1989

My age at release: 23

How familiar was I with it before this week: Not At All

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: (Not Available On Spotify) - Amended, December, 2024 - Me, Myself and I added.

On a weekly basis over the past two years, I have written more than 150 articles on records listed on the 2012 edition of Rolling Stone Magazine's roster of The 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time. As one might expect, a routine has formed.

This week was different -- and my routine was thrown. 3 Feet High And Rising by Long Island, New York, hip-hop artists, De La Soul, is not available on Spotify, or any streaming service. I found the music at this link on YouTube, but this option was far less convenient and made me wonder: Why isn't the record on Spotify?

The story of De La Soul's absence from streaming services goes much further back than I assumed. The iconic hip-hop trio's first six records, including this debut, have been embroiled in a legal battle with their first label, Tommy Boy Records, for many years.

The issue is thorny. According to Variety writer Jem Aswad, the debut record was a "pioneering event, not just in the world of hip-hop, but also in sampling technology". Sampling, a foundation of hip-hop, is the re-use of a sound recording to create a new recording. The "sampled" section usually consists of a popular part of the record (the rhythm, melody, speech or an entire bar of music) that can be repeated, or looped, over and over again.

Sampling has its origins in the dance clubs and house parties of the late 70s and early 80s. The disc jockey (DJ) would use two turntables with the same recordings on each. Typically, he would find a "musical break" and, by switching between the records, he could play a "danceable" section repeatedly -- one record played while the DJ skillfully reset the other record to the start of the break.

Legendary, pioneering DJ Grandmaster Flash in NYC (1980)

Initially, DJs preferred soul, funk and R&B records for samples which were played at live events. However, as hip-hop music grew in popularity through the 80s, two things happened. First, the records were made in a studio, where time and improved technology enhanced and streamlined sampling. Additionally, new artists began to look for different sources, other than lesser-known or forgotten R&B records, for their sampling products. 3 Feet High And Rising features recognizable samples from well-known songs. The upbeat love song Eye Know has guitar and horn samples from Make This Young Lady Mine by The Mad Lads (1960), the distinctive whistle from Otis Redding's (Sittin' On) The Dock Of The Bay (1967), guitar keyboard and vocal samples from Steely Dan's Peg (1977) and drums from Lee Dorsey's Get Out Of My Life, Woman (1966).

Eye Know - single release from 3 Feet High And Rising - De La Soul

Unfortunately, many of the samples used by De La Soul had not been "cleared" by Tommy Boy Records' legal department. Consequently, copyright laws, which had been hastily rewritten in the 1980s, were deemed breeched. Lawsuits followed the release of 3 Feet. For example, The song, Transmitting Live From Mars features a sample from You Showed Me by The Turtles. The notoriously litigious songwriters, Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman, eventually settled for a reported $1.7 million. 

Kaylan (left) and Vollman of The Turtles

Thirty years later, the problems persist. When Tommy Boy Records approached the group about releasing their catalogue to four music streaming or sales services (Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes and Tidal), they offered the trio a paltry 10% of the new revenue. In a series of Instagram posts from 2019, the group made their position known. They were willing to re-negotiate the terms of the deal, but talks broke down.

Verified

"Well friends, after 30 years of profiting from our music and hard work... and after 7 long months of stalled negotiations, we are sad to say that we’ve been unable to reach an agreement and earn Tommy Boy’s respect for our music/legacy...Therefore, our catalog will not see the light of day by way of our involvement or consent. This means, if you see De La Soul music/albums available for streaming or purchase anywhere, BE AWARE, all parties involved WILL profit but De La Soul WILL NOT benefit or earn deservedly/fairly. We really tried."

I am of two minds when it comes to Spotify. I love having easy access to so such a large catalogue of music for the reasonable price of $10 a month. In the 80s, I would spend nearly $100 a month on vinyl and close to $200 a month on Compact Discs through the 90s and into the 2000s. Consequently, my subscription to Spotify feels like a savings.

I love making playlists, particularly for my classroom, and access to this streaming service has made my journey through The 500 immeasurably easier. However, I also fret a little. Am I part of this problem? Am I contributing to the coffers of wealthy record companies, while a fraction of my subscription fee trickles down to the artists?

For more information, I reached out to my friend Glen "Archie" Gamble. You may remember him from his guest blog on Album #415, the debut record from Van Halen. His former band, Buffalo Brothers, have their record, Magic Incinerator, streaming on Spotify. 

All 11 tracks have had hundreds of streams and Archie has not seen a cent. According to him, the publishing company would receive those royalties:

"We’ve never been consulted or told anything. SOCAN (Society of Composers, Authors, Music Publishers of Canada) might collect it on our behalf, I don’t know."

How annoying for artists to know their material is finding an audience and that someone else is making most of the profit.

So, my weekly routine was thrown. As I type this, it is Sunday morning and I am doing a final draft of this writing. 3 Feet High And Rising is playing in the background (on YouTube, not Spotify). I am keen to follow the De La Soul streaming story as it unfolds. Will the result be a harbinger of positive change for recording artists? 

As the saying goes, "It's called show business for a reason...without the business, there is no show. But, without the show, there is no business."