Electronic Dance Music
Electronic dance music (EDM) is the latest “style” to break through what, during the early part of the 21st century, had become a rather stifling and rigid creative marketplace, with urban music (mostly hip-hop) holding on to its role as having replaced rock and roll in the consciousness of the youth of the world. Technically, EDM is not actually a genre, but a name given to a generic group of several music genres (and subgenres) such as house, techno, and many others. It is concocted in a studio, but presented via DJs live in venues like any other music, although it is most effective when presented at festivals and in clubs.
EDM evolved by focusing on the live DJ presentation. Add dance and you have a phenomenon. The physicality of the EDM audience (who actually form an essential element of the genre) is breathtaking. It is inexpensive to present, inexpensive to tour, and inexpensive to enter for enterprising DJs. The instrumentation of EDM emphasizes drums (kick and snare) and bass, mixed into recordings by the genre’s producers (such as David Guetta, Swedish House Mafia, Skrillex, and others). EDM itself began to break down into subgenres, such as dubstep. Dubstep, which dates to the late 1990s, although given its name around 2003, features dark, instrumental dub remixes of recorded tracks (especially garage tracks) that would otherwise not have seen the light of day. As with many experimental musical structures, dubstep eventually became less dark, and more commercial, over time and furthered the ascendency of producers over artists. The producers are the “authors.” Are we to expect Bob Dylan to incorporate the wobble bass in his next iteration?
Ironically, it was just as this new form of engagement with the youngish audience began to take hold in the late 1990s (Google Daft Punk to observe its beginnings) that physical record sales (vs. digital downloads and rentals via subscription) began to slip dramatically. The more that EDM succeeds in replacing rock and roll and other genres, the greater its impact on the record industry which will be, of course, still depends largely on the sale of physical units.
One of the more unusual acronyms arising out of the EDM genre is BPM. This stands for “beats per minute” and refers simply to the number of beats in a recording that appear in the course of a minute. It is almost a photograph of the tempo of a song, and it has two effects on the genre: first, it actually describes the energy emitting from a track in terms that people can read rather than feel—thereby providing them with a metric by which to choose recordings that appeal to their desire for fast tempos; second, it is one more means by which data can be communicated to a third party—for example to a music supervisor looking for a track to promote to a third party seeking to synchronize a recording with its film, TV episode, or commercial. The greater the BPM, the more one could say it represents something that can grab a current audience’s attention. When a synchronization department submits a track for consideration, it must provide a lot of data such as title, authors, Performing Rights Organizations (PROs) of the authors, publisher, timing, etc. BPM is yet another piece of data that has relevance. Not only does it describe the energy of a song in terms that can be understood without listening to it, it also helps to identify it when streamed. The unique BPM of a recorded track, then, can be used almost as a fingerprint.
19 • CLASSICAL MUSIC
Dead or Alive?
Classical music is the kind we keep thinking will turn into a tune.
—KIM HUBBARD
The difference between a violin and a viola is that a viola burns longer.
—VICTOR BORGE
What is classical music? Of course music composed during the so-called classical period, from the mid-17th to the early 18th century, especially the classical symphony and concerto, qualifies. But are there any characteristics that apply solely to classical music, but not to the so-called “popular” genres, including country, pop, rock, and rap? One possibility is structure—formal structure that goes beyond melody and beat, incorporating complex orchestration, exposition of theme, development, and recapitulation. Perhaps the best way to define it is explain what it is not. It is not mainstream; it is not something that spontaneously touches a large percentage of all listening populations. It is for specialty, though eminently varied, tastes; it appeals to knowledgeable buyers and listeners who want to have a profound experience of the kind that they do not find in what we call popular music; it is remarkably resilient and takes on different meaning in the hands of different interpreters (which, of course, also fits jazz; so be it).
Whatever it is—and I submit that we know it when we hear it—it is in trouble.
A LITTLE HISTORY
The classical record business was wildly profitable from 1980 onward for many years. Profitability on sales pushed the 30% level. On $100 million in sales at one company, the pretax profit was $27 million. Yet by the 1990s, under management that chose to apply popular music standards to classical music divisions, things went south fast. The few record companies that continued to invest in new classical artists and young composers had precious few outlets to bring these artists and composers’ works to the attention of potential record buyers. The Ed Sullivan Show, which made household names of Ezio Pinza, Renata Tebaldi, Robert Merrill, Risa Stevens, Anna Moffo, and Mario Lanza during the ’50s and ’60s, was long gone, and nothing had replaced it. The most recent opportunity for a classical opera singer to “hit it out of the park” came in the 2014 Super Bowl when Renée Fleming did just that—reaching more people in under three minutes than Ed Sullivan did in his entire career. Watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xuQxuE8SYk. Then, in the second decade of the 21st century, what happened? TV competitions such as American Idol and especially America’s Got Talent began to feature opera singers; while the contestants have obviously not achieved any high degree of success, at least they have the opportunity to showcase their talents, and to introduce opera to the viewers who otherwise would be completely ignorant of the appeal of the genre.
For decades, while even as record labels supported the genre, most senior executives knew (and cared) nothing about classical music, its heritage, or its extraordinary worldwide market potential. They were of the mind that this genre could not possibly earn enough by way of sales to recoup their companies’ investment. They saw their company’s involvement largely as a charitable contribution to culture. But then, the numbers crunchers put a stop to what they perceived to be the excesses of prior generations. The major labels then made a fundamental and disastrous decision to look at themselves not as libraries (catalogues) or nurturers of great artists, but as large-scale bookstores. Once they began to demand that Beethoven sell the way James Patterson novels or The DaVinci Code sell, and that their recordings be judged on the number of units sold, they found that they could never meet their goals. So the companies gave up. BMG Classics, successor to RCA Red Seal, one of the diamonds of the lot, had essentially dismantled itself by the late ’90s. EMI Classics was spun off from EMI when it was acquired by Universal. It was an albatross that they somehow convinced Warner Records to acquire.
By 2010, the operations of Universal Classics and Sony Classical were significantly curtailed, although the latter has been reborn with much smaller expectations, even as it revived the venerable name “Columbia Masterworks.” Today Masterworks labels can be found on “crossover” records that try to simulate the emotive power of classical music, but rarely do.
DEMISE OR REJUVENATION?
Much has been written about the demise of the classical music industry. Companies are shutting down; artists are being dropped in huge numbers from every classical record label, and sales that were so promising upon the introduction of the CD have plummeted. Even though the proposed AOL/Time-Warner/EMI, and BMG/EMI mergers never took place, the fears of the classical music community were nevertheless realized in 2001 when Warner closed down two of its three classical record labels, Erato and Teldec, and EMI essentially shut down its US classical division, Angel Records. In the course of acquiring EMI Records in 2012, Universal ag
reed to “discard” some elements of the EMI assets, starting with EMI Classics. (At least they consider them “assets.”) While some new labels that record and release classical records have appeared in recent years, these records are not offered to the public in significant quantities. One unforgettable SoundScan snapshot of a particular label’s sales history revealed that only 13 copies out of the label’s entire year 2000 offering (25 or so releases) were sold in the United States in the first seven months of that year. (They shipped 400 worldwide just to fill the distribution pipeline, but no one was buying. No one.)
We have also seen the end of the exclusive recording agreements for each and every one of the world’s greatest orchestras, including one of the last holdouts, the renowned Berlin Philharmonic.
Music ensembles (from trios to quartets, quintets, and chamber and symphony orchestras) are going to have to make their own recordings if they want to preserve their legacies and enjoy the recorded fruits of their labors. They can no longer rely on the record companies to provide these archives. Even the New York Philharmonic is selling archival records that they have long kept in the vaults (for example, the Bernstein and the Mahler collections), as are the great London orchestras. Indeed, the London Symphony Orchestra has sought to fill the void by initiating its own recordings—and guess what? Its first, Les Troyens, won several 2002 GRAMMY Awards, including Best Classical Album and Best Opera Recording.
Artists of worldwide stature have gone begging, not just for an exclusive record company relationship—but even for a single record! Even if they or their patrons find the money to pay for the cost of the orchestra, the recording venue, the engineer, the conductor, and the producer, they still have to find a record company that has the budget to pay for the artwork and the manufacture and release of the record. In most cases, finding such a company is impossible, so they must reluctantly decline the kind offer of backing.
At the same time that the majors have all but abandoned the classical music genre as a viable commercial proposition, the number of staff members who specialized in classical music, particularly those who were the bearers of the “institutional memories,” has declined drastically. Some have died; others have retired, not to be replaced; still others have been laid off. What this does to a record company’s intangible assets is incalculable. The abandonment of classical music programs by the major record labels comes, ironically, at a time when more creative marketing—via reissues or compilations and use of the Internet—(think streaming) can generate substantial income while at the same time incurring no additional production expenses and resulting in records bearing minuscule royalty obligations, compared to the standards of today. Yet those who know the catalogues best have, one by one, left the companies whose legacies they are best able to exploit.
The closing of major retail outlets, such as Tower Records and Virgin, is putting additional nails in the classical music coffin. Now Tower Records is essentially out of business, as is HMV, both major purveyors of classical CDs in the last quarter-century.
Yet there is some good news. Record labels such as Sony Masterworks, noted above, is substantially fueled by soundtrack recordings such as Titanic and Star Wars, the phenomenal success of which so enriched the label’s budget that it could invest in the development of Tan Dun (who, in addition to his impressive symphonic and choral works, made a mark in his soundtrack for the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and the extremely successful Joshua Bell’s West Side Story—with a home video, no less. And Peter Gelb, the former head of Sony Classical, invested a considerable amount in commissioning new works by composers such as Tan Dun and John Corigliano. Similarly, individual instrumentalists and music publishing companies are initiating commissions across the board that are feeding programs of symphony orchestras and individual instramentalists’ recitals. With present-day recording and notating capabilities, there is almost an underground industry developing which is generating ever-newer works for performance. Hilary Hahn, the violinist, felt that too many commissions were being granted for large orchestral works or operas, but not for shorter works such as encores. She commissioned twenty-seven composers to write encores, then performed them worldwide, recorded them for Deutsche Grammophon rather than drag out one more classical encore (Bach, anyone?) that had been recorded and performed endlessly by herself and every other concert violinist for time immemorial. She then caused the new works to be eventually published digitally and physically. (How else can violinists of all levels access these works so that they themselves can perform them or learn them in the course of their development?) “In 27 Pieces: The Hilary Hahn Encores” are a framework for others similarly inclined. No wonder the innovative ones rise to the top of public awareness. And now, her twenty-seven composers have that opportunity, too.
A Gift from the American Federation of Musicians
Most of the cost of recording new classical works is the orchestral cost. After about 1960, American record companies found it economically more feasible to record outside of the United States, whenever possible, without using members of the American Federation of Musicians (AF of M), the musicians’ union. Orchestras in the United States suffered as European orchestras—particularly, after 1990, eastern European orchestras—flourished.
The AF of M has made great strides in recent years to accommodate orchestras that wish to return to the world of recording. It now offers to many North American orchestras special rates for live recordings, the right to own them, and an opportunity to participate in a revenue-sharing plan on the sale of both physical media and digital downloads. It also offers special terms to permit US record companies to release on soundtrack recordings the soundtracks of motion pictures, the music of which has been recorded by American orchestras; an agreement according to which if the budget is under $99,000, the session fees will be considerably less than they would be if the budget were higher; and a deal according to which if the record company agrees to limit pressings to 10,000 copies, the session fees will be even lower. This relief from the most costly portion of a recording budget not only permits record companies, and artists who raise their own funding, to actually record works that they could only dream of before, but also encourages them to use American musicians rather than foreign orchestras.
Another promising development for world-class orchestras is the new Universal Music Group (UMG) initiative to work in partnership with orchestras to produce live (read: cheaper) downloadable concerts over the Internet. In June of 2005, there were 1.5 million downloads of free Beethoven symphonies offered by BBC Radio 3. In March, 2006, the New York Philharmonic concert of Mozart’s last three symphonies was similarly, and successfully, offered for downloads. The participants were shocked at the size of the audience for classical music. Where have they been all these years? The days of sending artists to eastern Europe solely for cost benefits may soon be behind us.
The Star Factor
Another reason why classical record sales have plummeted in recent years may be that there are so few overpowering musical personalities such as Vladimir Horowitz, Leonard Bernstein, and Maria Callas. There are very few classical artists whose records consumers “must have.” Yet there is an audience out there. Look what happened with The Three Tenors’ records. Pavarotti, Carreras, Domingo, Yo-Yo Ma, now the violinist Mark O’Connor, the Chinese pianist Lang Lang, and the superb sopranos Renée Fleming and Anna Netrebko—there is still a great deal of big-time talent out there. But try to name a couple of instrumentalists today who have a similar hold on the public’s imagination—or a conductor who is making magic with his orchestra. Perhaps violinists Joshua Bell, Sarah Chang, Hilary Hahn, or Anne-Sophie Mutter, pianists Yuja Wang or Evgeny Kissin, or Simon Rattle, long-term conductor of the pre-eminent Berlin Philharmonic. But names of “stars” do not come easily to mind these days. How did this happen? The demise of popular TV outlets and the ever-increasing competition from other media are some of the reasons. Some say that current performers tend not to be as idiosyncratic as the
old guard. For example, musicians today are much more respectful of the printed text, and the original-instruments movement has made everyone more conservative and historically conscious—a sort of musical “politically correct” stance, according to Steven Blier, co–music director of the New York Festival of Song. This movement showcases musical instruments (or replicas) and techniques of earlier eras. The music is stylistically as well as technically similar to the music played in the era—often the Baroque period—in which the musical work was originally introduced.
But there are other things at work here: Publicists and press agents who create opportunities for some and cut off opportunities for others; being in the “in” group in this extremely tight-knit and competitive world. Unfortunately, the latter example is a recurring theme among musicians and conductors, and they do not really know any way out. Christoph Eschenbach is a magical musician but has not the profile of Muti or Abbado or Bernstein. Why not?
What They'll Never Tell You About the Music Business Page 54
