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Sheet Music to Napster: Music Distribution Tech

Musical styles evolve like biological species evolve, in response to their environment. Musical ideas flourish -- or die off -- depending on how well their human creators are rewarded. A big factor in the evolution of musical style is us, the listeners; the next sound is cool, some old sounds are lame, Artist X now gets our dollars while Artist Y goes back to working as a waitress. Style marches on. But dollars just help steer the evolution of the machine. It's technology that decides where it can go. And to understand what influence our music technology can have, it helps to know what influences it has had. (Part two of three; here's yesterday's part one if you missed it.)

I'm going to focus on distribution technology, and by "distribution," I mean everything between the artist and my ear. The company that puts CDs on the shelf at Best Buy is an important part, but I'm looking at the whole journey: from the moment the song is done to the moment it's heard (including, notably, audio reproduction).

There have been many examinations of how technology has affected the creative process, from Bach's popularization of the well-tempered scale (exchanging a small harmonic sweetness for huge harmonic flexibility) to Les Paul's electric guitar pickup. But I want to look at how music spreads after its creation.

And of course the whole point of this is to build up to tomorrow's discussion of Napster and peer-to-peer digital music trading in general. Stay tuned :)

My utopian/dystopian personal vision of the not-so-distant future is of two kids on the playground at recess, MP3 players built into wristwatches, trading the latest cool songs via geosynchronous satellite. There are a thousand reasons that might never happen, but technology is not one of them. The tech to make that happen will exist in my lifetime. The questions are whether the law, and the economic structure it creates, will allow it, and also whether our musical culture evolves to the point where such trading is desirable or even relevant.

Let's start off with a cursory look at the last 200 years, and then pick a few examples to check out in more detail. So what was the American music scene like in the 1800s?

Two words for the century's prevailing trend: women, and keyboards. Imported pianos were coming into the States in the years after the Revolutionary War, and in the decades to follow, the pianomaking industry moved onto American soil. One Frenchman wrote in 1788 of the growing American love affair with pianos, "God grant that the Bostonian women may never, like those of France, acquire the malady of perfection in this art! It is never attained but at the expense of the domestic virtues." (Loesser 445; see end for bibliography.)

Not much changed over the next century. Skill at the piano became entrenched as a domestic virtue of its own. By 1820 the music-news periodical Euterpeiad was founded, with its supplementary sheet music being almost entirely for the piano -- and when circulation began to fail it appealed more directly to its target audience by adding the subtitle "Ladies' Gazette" and adding essays like "Scheme for Getting a Husband" and "An Illustrious Female." (467)

The tone of early American composition was set by precisely this fact: that the piano was an instrument played by genteel young girls, who of course were always in search of a husband, and later by proper fiancées, wives, homemakers, mothers -- all the delightful niches that women of the time were expected to fill.

Typical early American compositions intended for the home player were devotional ("Nothing True But Heaven," "Arrayed in Clouds," "Home of My Soul," "Last Hope"), languid and emotional ("The Dying Poet"), puppy-lovey ("Youth, Love and Folly Polka"), and always, always the sentimental ("The Maiden's Prayer"). "Death and religion were frequently the subjects." (468, 500, 505, 506, 544)

In fact, the sappy sentimentalism of the songs crammed down the pianists' throats is almost impossible to overstate. "In ladies' mythology, poets are sweet, gentle creatures -- a little like children or possibly canary birds -- and it is delightfully heart-rending to think of them dying."

The tragic death of the innocent was a daily occurence; Loesser is too funny not to quote in full:

"An average song of the period began by extolling the beloved creature in the first verse, then killing him or her ruthlessly by unspecified disease in the second or third. Sometimes the last stanza was a graveside lament...

"To be so full of feeling that you lose control of yourself, that you tremble or weep or faint or drop dead, was wonderful, was a blessing, a thing to live for, to boast about, to pretend to. Now, nothing is an easier incentive to strong feeling than death, especially the premature death of a loved person. Thus, the cheapest way for an author to arouse 'feeling' was to kill off a child or sweetheart." (499)

Nothing like that ever happens in modern pop music, of course.

"By the middle of the nineteenth century," writes Loesser (419), "the piano infatuation had passed its peak" in Europe, but certainly not in the States. Was it universal? No, only perhaps "eight percent of the nation's youth" (540) played the piano, but this was by far the most common way that popular music spread. Its popularity continued well into the 20th century.

That is the key here -- popular music, music of the people, most of whom did not bother to attend concerts. The CD player of the 1800s was the piano, its CDs were sheet music mailed directly to the home, and its sound system was the mother's or daughter's fingers. That latter fact, that the "digital" reproduction was almost exclusively through female digits, stamped much of an entire century of American pop music with an impossibly sentimental, shallow, sticky, and often maudlin character.

(I hope I don't have to point out that this was surely no fault of the women in question; society crams people into roles and demands that they perform.)

But by the end of the century, for the first time in the history of humanity it was possible to reproduce music without a human being. First came the player piano (which had actually been invented over 50 years before, but never perfected). At the same time came a rapid succession of technologies which could (poorly) reproduce any sound. The CD was no longer sheet music which had to be interpreted; the CD had become the player piano roll and the phonograph record.

As before, reproduction tech influenced the character of the music. Could a player piano reproduce a slow, soft Beethoven movement? It could try, but because the paper rolls allowed for no dynamic subtlety, every key would have been banged out exactly as loud as the next. If anyone tried selling a Beethoven piano roll, they lost their shirts -- evolution in action.

Instead what we got was ragtime -- fast and raucous, danceable, driven by rhythm. Perfect for mechanical reproduction on an out-of-tune upright. The player piano grew in popular from 1905 to 1925, when it reached the pinnacle and, over the next decade, died off.

The early disks brought in their own genre, too. For a brief period in the first decade of the 20th century, opera staged a comeback -- because without electrical microphones, there was almost no other type of music which could be recorded well. In 1902:

"[Italian tenor Enrico Caruso's] voice was perfectly suited to the talking machine; it emerged from the horn with such clarity and power that it seemed to fill the room with music. Unlike sopranos and bass voices, the full range of the tenor fell within the narrow band of sound frequencies picked up by the recording horn...

"Caruso recorded ten songs for his $400. ... As his son recalled later, the sale of records made a small fortune for his father (about $5 million)..." (Millard, 59-60)

But the big change in musical genre came with an even bigger musical reproduction technology, one that slammed into the American consciousness right on the heels of World War One: radio.

The medium of radio was formed (like the internet, but more directly) through the intervention of the government. It's a complex story, but here's the short reason why radio took off so quickly:

"There were too many small companies competing with one another. Experienced businessmen like Edison saw no commercial future in the technology. For once, Eldridge Johnson of Victor agreed with him: 'The radio industry is going to be fighting over patents for years. We are not going to put out a radio.'

"Nobody could have expected the intervention of the United States government, which stepped into the business in the aftermath of World War I and negotiated a peace treaty. The formation of the Radio Corporation of America (RCA) in 1919 pooled the important patents, which were largely in the hands of General Electric, American Telephone and Telegraph (AT&T), and Westinghouse..." (137)

The consolidation of technology created an open standard, and radio took off like no technology before it. In three years the country went from almost no broadcast stations to 200, and 700,000 receivers, and its growth continued to accelerate.

The history of American music in the 1920s is the history of black music coming into the mainstream. Until and through the war, white America's perception of blacks in music was limited to atrocious songs supposedly representing black culture, typically by white performers (who didn't need the blackface to make records, only an exaggerated accent). Typical humorous songs were "I'd Rather Be a Nigger Than a Poor White Man" and "No Coons Can Come Too Black for Me." (98) Some black artists participated in making these, and less offensive, records (but of course got no royalties; Scott Joplin died poor). But mostly, the black America that was sold to white America was a sick parody, performed by and enriching white singers and musicians.

All that began to change in the years 1920-25, and in my opinion, the real success story of radio is this, its role in jazz, the first original American art form.

Erik Barnouw describes the effect of the radio -- a distribution channel which gave away music for free, remind you of anything? -- on the record industry:

"Within months of the start of the broadcasting boom, the bottom dropped out of the phonograph business..."

(Don't worry, there's a happy ending -- apparently the record industry managed to struggle through somehow.)

"...But 'race' records held their own. Millions of people were turning to the radio music box, but evidently the buyers of 'race' records were scarce among them." (129)

Either that, or the radio was stimulating sales of real(ish) black music at the same time it crushed other genres. Were black Americans the only consumers of black music? Not for long. The alternative to radio's "potted palm" music (Muzak) lay in artists like Paul Whiteman, a white man who crowned himself the "king of jazz" and brought black music to white audiences:

"Paul Whiteman was winning wide bookings and beginning to make a fortune, and others followed; now and then they were heard on the air. The radio audience would begin slowly to become familiar with this music, especially through late-evening broadcasts from night clubs. The infiltration was progressing. In due time, in the wake of their music, Negroes would follow.

"But not yet. In 1922, 1923, 1924, 1925, the potted palm ruled supreme." (131)

Here is the key -- and it's something I haven't seen written about. This may be an original theory or it may be completely obvious to everyone else. Radio, by allowing for the first time anonymous distribution of music, crossed color lines. The racist pre-war record companies refused to allow black musicians to sell an honest version of their music. But once that music was on the radio, in the palatable and infectious style brought by Bessie Smith and Earl Hines, even if the intended audience was black, any white listener could tune it in, in the privacy of their home.

Few respectable white people would have the courage to flout public opinion by walking across the tracks to a black record store. But black music was, quite simply, better than the sentimental crap being pushed on white America. And it was the distribution medium, radio, that smashed the color barrier. Over the course of just half a decade, it was the distribution that raised an entire genre of music from absolute obscurity in America to the country's, even the world's, hot new style.

That's my theory. I freely admit I don't have a lot to back it up. If you have a lead on something to help prove or disprove it, please let me know.

Radio and records remained the twin music distribution technologies for half the century. Improved recording tech -- the electrical microphone in the 1920s, ever-more-sensitive mikes and higher-fidelity phonographs, longer-playing records -- made the crooners and the harmonically complex jazz possible. Big bands ruled until Les Paul made it possible for four teenagers with part-time jobs to make the same "bigness" of sound as thirty professional musicians. The in-car radio took music out of the living room and with it some of the forced aura of serious listening.

The latest refinements in distribution tech -- the reproduction portion of the chain -- include the cheap subwoofer, which for the first time make it possible for music with phat bass to be properly heard (by yourself and all your neighbors). And we all know about Napster, Gnutella, and the plain old FTP site, whose effects on musical genre are yet to be felt. More on that tomorrow.

But for a last example of distribution tech, I've got to mention a little-known technology invasion, one described in Peter Manuel's book Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in North India.

Until 1978, protectionist economic policies kept India from absorbing many of the gadgets the West took for granted, including the cassette tape. Once imports were opened up and the middle class began to grow:

"The real cassette boom has happened mostly since 1984 or '85... because the costs of these raw materials has become dirt cheap." (62)

The dominant musical culture into which cassettes were suddenly introduced was that of film music...

"...which has been generated by a handful of corporate cinema directors and superimposed on a mass listening audience. And it is precisely this aspect of Indian popular music that has changed so dramatically with the advent of cassettes, which has allowed diverse smaller producers to usurp the dominance formerly enjoyed by multinationals... and the corporate film industry." (14)

And the result?

"The homogeneity of Indian film music is most evident in the uniform vocal style, as perpetuated by ... especially by Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar. Lata, as claimed, may indeed have sung in eighteen different languages, but she cannot really be said to have sung in more than one style. ... a film-music critic could recently write, 'Today it is difficult to imagine a female voice that is not Lata Mangeshkar's'" (52-53)

Once again, when a new distribution medium is suddenly introduced to an entrenched system, the short-term effect is lost sales, but the long-term effect is the opposite:

"Piracy has been the nemesis of the cassette industry from its inception. Indeed, the same factor that fueled the advent of cassettes -- particularly, the ease of duplication -- have ... bled many legitimate producers to bankruptcy." (78)

"...cassettes led Hindi film music to suffer an even greater proportionate decline in India, while its sales expanded in real terms due to the growth of the market as a whole." (32)

The song form of the ghazal is described as "an Urdu poetic form sung in light-classical style." The distinction between the film ghazal which was popular through the 1970s and the modern ghazal which began to replace it is the subject of much of Manuel's book. And he notes that the technology is responsible for not only that musical form's transformation, but its eventual replacement:

"'Pop' Goes the Ghazal

"The modern ghazal, as we have seen, has emerged and, to some extent, was deliberately created by the cassette industry in order to appeal to a large sector of the pan-regional, Hindi-speaking North Indian bourgeoisie." (96)

"The extent to which the ghazal vogue has been declining since the mid-1980s reflects less a shrinking of its potential or real audience than the emergence of rival cassette-based musical genres." (103)

And what has been the overall effect of small-time musicians and producers, using an easily-copyable medium, usurping the dominance of the corporate film industry?

Answers vary depending on musical form. Parody, for example, has become very popular, assisted by Indian copyright law which is much more tolerant than the U.S.

For religious music, the answer is mixed: devotional cassettes have led to a decline in live performances and "depersonalization." On the other hand,

"Cassettes have become the first and in many cases the only mass medium to represent the extraordinary diversity and richness of India's myriad forms of local religious song and discourse." (129)

But if we look specifically at the growth of "regional music" -- or what I usually hear called "local artists"...

"Cassettes have also greatly diversified and increased the number of performing artists." (157)

Good changes or bad changes, it's indisputable that the introduction of a redistributable music technology dramatically changed the North Indian music scene in just a few years.

I'm going to propose something radical. I'm going to claim that the current system of pop music, funded by centralized capital which loses money on 100 bands to make it all back on one megahit, distributed through relatively closed channels, promoted mainly through essentially-free mass-market play on commercial monopoly airwaves, and fueled by the dollars of 10-to-24 year-olds' disposable income, colors our popular music just as much and just as fundamentally as the social structure of the female pianist colored the pop of the 19th century.

Not only am I unsure of what changes are coming down the road, I don't think I dare predict whether they're going to be changes for the better or worse. But whatever happens over the next decade or two -- unless Microsoft succeeds in converting the Turing machines on our desktops into rented Play-Skool gadgets -- peer-to-peer music trading, legal or otherwise, is going to shake things up big-time.

Those kids on the playground at recess, decades from now -- what kind of music will they have available to trade? If there are no major labels to underwrite recording and promotion costs, will there be any more big, slick, impressive bands touring nationwide? Or will acoustic folk make a comeback? Will local bands be all there is? Will big expensive stadium rock be underwritten by beer and cigarette companies? By Citicorp?

Will the Street Performer Protocol be the only way for the Backstreet Boys' next incarnation to make any money? ("Give us $50,000,000 and we'll release our next album." "Can I pay you not to release it?")

If there's less money in the system, will that mean worse music because there are fewer choices? Or better music, because the people who still do it are those who perform for the love of it?

Will production costs plummet because nobody is able to pay them without centralized capital? (Studio time is a huge cost in making an album, and it all has to be paid before release.) What will that do to production values as the price of the computer portion of studio recording goes to zero? Will pop, in a future without major labels, still be the crunchy, glitzy ear candy that it is today? Or will the glitz have to be replaced by, say, oh, I don't know, lyric, melody, and harmony?

I'd like to say I have answers to any of those questions. But we'll just have to wait and see.

Tomorrow: part three, a criticism of current peer-to-peer music trading and a humble suggestion for a grassroots open standard that could change the face of music for decades to come.

Bibliography:

Loesser, Arthur. Men, Women and Pianos: A Social History. 1954. The definitive story of the piano and its players, from 1654 to 1954. Slightly more anecdotal and entertaining than you'd expect a history book to be. Might be good beach or airplane reading if you really, really love the piano.

Millard, Andre. America on Record: A History of Recorded Sound. 1995. From wax cylinder to vinyl LP to CD. Approachable, often geekily technical, for example, giving Edison props for trying to invent a home movie machine -- a VCR, essentially.

Barlow, William. Voice Over: The Making of Black Radio. 1999. Picks up at WWI; I only read the part about the transition from records to radio and skimmed the rest, but hope to get back to it soon. For the record, Barlow disagrees with me about the role of radio in promoting black artists in the 1920s; see his pp. 22ff. But one of his footnotes led me to...

Barnouw, Erik. A Tower in Babel: A History of Broadcasting in the United States, Volume I -- to 1933. 1966. Includes a thorough look at the spread of black music pre- and post-WWI which I found enlightening.

Manuel, Peter. Cassette Culture. 1993. Cassette-tape technology only hits northern India in the 1980s, and it changes musical culture.

13 of 97 comments (clear)

  1. Smokie the Bear says: by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 3

    Only you can prevent grand copyright theft.

  2. Well done! by Chris+Johnson · · Score: 3
    This _is_ a well researched piece. The only thing I can think of that would expand your set of references is "The Death Of Rhythm And Blues" by Nelson George, and to some extent "Trapped! Michael Jackson and the Crossover Dream", by Dave Marsh. Since I'm very familiar with both of those I'll share what they'd bring to your analysis :)

    Sentimentality in early American music: Blame this on Stephen Foster. He was very literally the Michael Jackson or Disney of his day. It seems that there's always been a market for desexualized sentimentality- whether it is Stephen Foster's songs about dead lovers, Disney with its 'land of 10,000 uncles' (and NO direct sexual relationships or families with actual children- Huey Dewey and Louie did not arise from a duck f**king a duck, but sprang from Walt's forehead, and their biological parents are NEVER to be referred to), or Michael Jackson's songs of mistrust and betrayal (see 'Billie Jean'), it's as if direct sexual relationships are 'too hot to handle' for the pop market. Dead lovers are 'safe', rejection and lamenting is 'safe', blocking out the whole area of family and relationships is 'safe' and so Pop has always tended to reward artists who had a need to repress themselves. (Michael Jackson is, or was, a Jehovah's Witness- this colors his work in pervasive ways).

    So when you say "Nothing like that ever happens in modern pop music, of course" you couldn't be more wrong! The theme of loss or failure to keep a relationship continues right up to Britney Spears- who burst onto the scene with a song in which she apparently sings from the perspective of a girl in love with her abuser! Hit me baby one more time... but... trust me... (and you can tell that no, this is a vain hope- but how sentimental to have such a hope, and to be faithful to one who doesn't deserve that faith...)

    As for black music supplanting 'potted palm' music, this is to some extent simply a matter of the narrowing of pop, very similar to what's happening today. When you can _only_ hear 'potted palm' music, anything else becomes more desirable. The restricting of choice lays the seeds for its own rebellion. Black music became fashionable- was co-opted, assimilated into white music again (I don't mean Elvis- I mean Pat Boone singing white bread versions of Little Richard), and hit continual limits all along the way. For instance, before Michael Jackson, there was no black music on MTV. Period. It took Michael to break the color line there. Then, R&B radio began being steadily assimilated into the Top 40 format- playing more and more of a homogenous mix of black and white artists, until there was no real line between black and white anymore because it was ALL 'pop', ALL 'top 40'. The distinctiveness of black rhythm and blues had affected Pop but been assimilated into it and rendered unrecognizable.

    What the future holds is best illustrated by Electronic music, but not stylistically. The consolidation of radio into a single limited stream causes pressure, a hunger for other choices and other sounds, but instead of other radio choices turning up, with the Internet the result is suddenly a capacity for virtually infinite choices.

    The effect of this on Electronic (which was the first to really make heavy use of the new medium, what with computer geeks liking beepy noises and all) was a wild proliferation of genre beyond all outside comprehension. People will ask, What is drum & bass? What is detroit? What is chill-out? How does ibiza trance differ from acid trance? The distinctions are all-important to insiders but incomprehensible to outsiders. This is because the Internet allows the one monolithic stream of pop culture that was Radio, to be broken into a million tiny streams.

    Radio and pop culture tries to deal with this by literally infiltrating teen culture and stealing cultural ideas- such as 'rage rock', which resulted in the manufacturing of Limp Bizkit as a mainstream pop direction. But the twist is, once a cultural niche is seized and turned into mainstream culture, it is already stagnant- Limp Bizkit ensures that rage rock is already dead to the true teen culture. It's an intrinsic failure- mainstream culture _can't_ be all things at once. It inevitably tries to consolidate, and in doing so it loses relevancy and becomes soulless product- in the sense that it doesn't represent anyone's genuine feelings or concerns or desires.

    As the internet continues to affect music distribution, the most significant thing to look for is total balkanization. This is a good thing! There will never be one single culture outlet that suits everyone. But there will be a thousand different streams to choose from, all of which are a little more removed from pop culture, all of which take a bit of effort to find, but once you find them you discover a whole new world with its own rules and history and definitions for things. Little bits of the thousand streams continually bubble up into mainstream culture like Trance music being used to sell cars, but communications has finally developed to the point that there will never be a single Pop mainstream again.

    It's similar to transportation- after a certain point, people just stopped growing their own food, and now they use transportation to get it (which has its own problems). We are at the point where people will stop looking for a single art and culture source, and will turn to the Internet and easily find forms of art and music that are personal to them, in great profusion. We will witness the decline and fall of Top 40- provided that we continue to bring 'the consumer' not simply repackaged free 'Top 40', but the full range of choices the Internet makes possible.

    It doesn't matter if you can get Britney Spears on Napster. What matters is if you can find some sort of easily listenable music on some random web page, freely listen to it, and go and find more, when it's NOT Britney Spears. For the first time, it's more important to look at what the RIAA is _not_ selling, if you want to know where the future is heading.

  3. The problemn with modern distribution by Have+Blue · · Score: 3
    ::rant mode activated::

    Modern music isn't an art, it's a science (and yes, I believe the two are mutually exclusive categories). Music is a product made by machines in factories. Every so often, the supervisors will check with the QA department, perform a few tweaks here and there, and run off a new batch.

    The supervisors are the record companies, the machines are the [obviously horrendous but popular ] "artists", the QA department is marketing.

    This is only possible due to centralization and control. It is possible to see, down to the last disc or listener, exactly what people are buying, in what quantities, what makes them make that decision, and what they like. Then they just guess what people want and make more of it. No business risks, no controversies, no experimenting, no variety, no worth.

    A less formal and concrete distribution system, especially one with substantial anonymity (like Jamie's description of early radio, or P2P) is a much better medium for an art form. It prevents this reduction to formulaism and gives the artists more freedom to do what THEY want instead of trying to please someone, because the latter is now entirely out of anyone's control. If the music is good, someone will listen to it.

    The technology exists, now the ball is in the audience's court. Napster and current P2P programs have done enormous damage to the potential for a system like this by gettin people hooked on free music. Any system that involves the audience paying will now be rejected, since they know they can get it for free.

    There are two paths we can go to from here:
    • The record companies win. Music is ever more tightly under their control. They keep on producing crap and people keep buying it. This can only go on for so long; sooner or later even the teenage airheads who listen to Britney Spears will realize that pop music has been crap for years, and stop buying it. The record companies will maintain their grip on the music production systems of the world, but with slipping sales. But there's no chance to replace them because any other system gets snapped up into the cartel and dragged down with it (I'm deliberately avoiding things like Gnutella here for the sake of argument). The music industry is over, the global distribution system breaks down. All music is now strictly local and live. Bad ending.
    • Or, the audience grows some ethics and becomes willing and able to pay for what they listen to. Someone invents a system that lets people give artists money for their music, and PEOPLE ACTUALLY USE IT. The supply of new bands for the record companies dries up since there is now a better way to create art and survive with it (not that this will reduce their production, see second half of above scenario). However, this is very unlikely because, as we have seen, people are greedy bastards.
    I don't use Napster because I think it is wrong. I also buy perhaps 1 CD a year, and only if I have extensively previewed it through free (legal) channels to see if it's any good.

  4. Don't forget Fender! by Wansu · · Score: 3

    Big bands ruled until Les Paul made it possible for four teenagers with part-time jobs to make the same "bigness" of sound as thirty professional musicians.

    Leo Fender played a bigger role in this than Les Paul. Fender's 1951 introduction of the Precision Bass was a landmark event. At last, you could HEAR the bass. It's first deployment was in Lionel Hampton's band, in the hands of Monk Montgomery, Wes's brother.

    --
    Wansu, th' chinese sailor
  5. Re:Radio != Napster by jamiemccarthy · · Score: 3
    "Erik Barnouw describes the effect of the radio -- a distribution channel which gave away music for free, remind you of anything? -- on the record industry"

    "Yeah, its one sentence outta the whole shebang, but it goes to prove the level of understanding Jamie has on the whole topic. I'm not going to pretent to have read the whole thing because the first article bugged me and showed how little of understanding he had and I only skimmed this one.

    Radio has to pay for every damn song they play."

    Not at the time they didn't. This was "within months of the start of the broadcasting boom," circa 1920 or 1921. There were no royalties being paid at the time.

    In 1922 the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers began contacting radio stations and demanding royalties, under the 1909 copyright law which said they controlled the right to perform works publicly for a profit. As Barnouw writes, "Broadcasters were, at first, incredulous. Could the song writers be serious? Wasn't radio helping to popularize their music?" (p. 119) The broadcasters protested that they were not playing the music for profit, that it was an act of charity (the exact term is "eleemosynary").

    In 1923 ASCAP sued WEAF in New York and in August won their case; radio stations were indeed for-profit enterprises. That sparked the creation of the National Association of Broadcasters which eventually hammered out the payment deal you allude to.

    But there was no such deal in the early months; records were bought once and played on the air without royalty payment.

    "it sounds like Jamie would like to have his music for free"

    You need to read more and assume less :)

    Jamie McCarthy

    --

    Jamie McCarthy
    jamie.mccarthy.vg

  6. Re:Piano roll was the first? by jamiemccarthy · · Score: 4
    "I thought the music box arrived well before the piano player -- in 1776."

    OK, you got me.

    The first player piano -- which was, actually, more like a piano player -- was invented in 1825 by a Mr. Courcell, who called it the "Cylindrichord." You actually wheeled it up to a piano and it hit the keys. And a pneumatic device called the "pianista" appeared at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876, too.

    I didn't count them either because, well, they weren't popular.

    Good call on the music box, though.

    Jamie McCarthy

    --

    Jamie McCarthy
    jamie.mccarthy.vg

  7. some myths. by Lumpy · · Score: 3

    In today's age, anyone with the desire and less than $5000.00 can create a recording studio in their basement, and digitally master their album.

    Yes, it takes someone with technical savvy.
    Yes, it takes a computer guru and an audio guru.
    but the biggest resounding yes comes from the fact that it can be done, and produce "studio quality" results. Nutral-milk hotel is a great example of a band that recorded in the garage (without technical savvy and horribly overdriven vocals... but that was the desired effect) and made it quite well (ok they aren't ACDC, but they are published and getting radio play far away from their own town)

    You don't need a recording studio. You don't need to sign with a label. You can sound as good or better than the Million dollar bands (not hard actually) and best of all you don't need to sell your soul.

    The current music and film industry has no power anymore.... it's just taking some time for the general public to realize it and start finding the alternatives..

    BTW, I have seen better movies at film festivals over the past 2 years than hollywood has produced in 5.

    --
    Do not look at laser with remaining good eye.
    1. Re:some myths. by VAXman · · Score: 3

      I don't think Jaime's point was how much changes in the face of the technology of the _production_ of music, but because of technology in the _distribution_ of music.

      My favorite example of this historically is Phil Spector whose goal was to make music sound good on teenager's transitor radios - to make little jewels of pop (which was a step back from the 'hi-fi' era of the 1950's). You can watch music change between the LP and the CD eras even though the fundamental recording process was the same (the only part which changed was analog to digital). The change to uninterrupted play, longer tracks, and random accessibility brought real change to how much was composed by the best artists in the height of the CD era.

      With electronic distribution, there are too big changes to music: (1) the possible length of music and (2) the prominence of singles.

      1. Broadband is only at something like 10% of Internet users, so if electronic distribution takes off, you can be sure the suppliers aren't going to leave out the vast majority of computer users. This means that files are going to be limited to a few megabytes each. You can guarantee that anybody who wants a hit is going to shave off any extra fluff of every song to keep it accessible.

      2. When organizing collections of music, it is much easier to deal with individuals tracks instead of albums. Albums for the last thirty five years have been quite distinct from merely a "collection of songs". They have themes, they are unified, and the music could not be conveyed as just songs. But with online delivery, doing albums becomes difficult.

      IMHO, neither of these two changes makes music better...

      An interesting read, about how records change music and how we perceive it, is The Recording Angel by Evan Eisenberg, which should be required reading for anybody involved in the aesthetics of music as far as the Napster debate goes.

  8. A small point.... by bobdehnhardt · · Score: 3

    As before, reproduction tech influenced the character of the music. Could a player piano reproduce a slow, soft Beethoven movement? It could try, but because the paper rolls allowed for no dynamic subtlety, every key would have been banged out exactly as loud as the next.

    True enough, at first. You fail to take into account the reproducing pianos, developed shortly after 1900, which could faithfully reproduce the performance of the person cutting the roll, including dynamic and tempo variations. These rolls and pianos were remarkably faithful to the original performances (especially considering the technology used), and rolls of Rhapsody in Blue cut by George Gershwin have been used in concert as recently as the mid-1980's.

    More info on these pianos can be found here.

  9. Player pianos were better than Jamie suggests. by gorilla · · Score: 4
    As before, reproduction tech influenced the character of the music. Could a player piano reproduce a slow, soft Beethoven movement? It could try, but because the paper rolls allowed for no dynamic subtlety, every key would have been banged out exactly as loud as the next. If anyone tried selling a Beethoven piano roll, they lost their shirts -- evolution in action.

    Actually, the players did have dynamic variation. As before, reproduction tech influenced the character of the music. Could a player piano reproduce a slow, soft Beethoven movement? It could try, but because the paper rolls allowed for no dynamic subtlety, every key would have been banged out exactly as loud as the next. If anyone tried selling a Beethoven piano roll, they lost their shirts -- evolution in action.

    Actually, player pianos did have dynamic variation.

    Originally, rolls came from player organs. These were simple to make, the air was blown at the roll, and where a hole occured, the air blew through, and into the pipes to make the sound. This mechanism was carried into the player pianos, so that the width of the hole indicated how hard the hammers should strike, while the length indicated the sustain. Here is a good article on how it all works, and if you want to order some Beethoven for your player piano, here are some, including the Moonlight sonata, my personal favourite Beethoven piece.

  10. Isn't it ironic by SilentReproach · · Score: 3

    that the development of music and it's style is likened to an evolutionary process. It has been noted by many scholars that the innate ability of humans to enjoy and create music and other arts would seem to have no evolutionary value, yet the attribute exists.

    --
    Religion is the opium of the people. Evolution is the opium of scientists.
  11. Something's broken by CaseStudy · · Score: 3

    I thought I deselected JonKatz...

  12. Re:Radio != Napster by andr0meda · · Score: 3


    Well a lot of people actually DO want their music for free, and much more to go with that. You could find them in Central City Napster at one time, now they are tagged with ip numbers in the wide cyberdesert called Gnutella. And if free music means free speech, free software, free ideas, free art experience, free source codes, free dvd codecs, then yes I think I want it too.

    Whether I support an artist or not should in the end be MY choice, not the coice of some record exec who thinks he`s the king of the world. If things were "free", only one thing changes: the level of control. And quite frankly, many artists, supposedly "protected" by that kind of "control" in reality don`t have a choice either. They are used, often pushed and abused, and in the end simply forgotten. There is no 'art' here.

    --
    With great power comes great electricity bills.