I had an unexpected conversation last night with a young woman. We were talking about local music and ways to create a thriving scene. I started talking about how my core ethos is that music should be accessible and she cut me off with “Why should businesses care about accessibility?”
I told her point blank that there isn’t necessarily any reason they should. I told her that I understand the business perspective – the need to leverage art and bands that will get people in the door and buying their products or services. But, as an artist, I feel very strongly that music should be accessible – creating it, consuming it, and sharing it.
I told her that we, as a community and society, should foster real diversity in music and art – instead of just having the same few bands rotating in and out of venues or the same handful of artists featured in galleries.
Business vs. music
I’m not sure she quite got it – or maybe she just doesn’t feel it in her bones, like I do. It was clear that she is incredibly intelligent and incredibly business oriented. I admired her pragmatism, but also felt a little sad and disappointed by it (and, on reflection, I think maybe I felt like I had disappointed her in some ways by not being as business oriented).
I couldn’t help but feel that, in some ways, as we continued talking about local music, we were talking past each other. At one point, she seemed a bit perplexed by the fact I didn’t want to turn my band into a revenue source – and seemed to be trying to reassure me when she asked if it made me happy and responded with “Well, that’s the important thing,” when I said “Yes.”
But the reasons why I believe this, and how it relates to our culture and communities, are worth expanding on (and I promise it all ties together in the end). So let me begin with a bit of background…
Chapters
- Investing my salary in my band
- Investing in a music scene I can enjoy
- Marketing rocks, but capitalism sucks
- Exponential growth is exhausting
- Social media = transactional life
- Art vs. Capitalism
- Artists vs. Sellouts
- Does Utah pay artists fairly?
- Investing in art and music is priceless
- Why small bands have big ROI value
- Balancing authenticity with business
- What will your legacy be?
Investing my salary in my band
I’ve done pretty well for myself over the years, financially speaking. And you know what I’ve done with most of my money? Well, first, I saved a lot of it. Which has been the gift that keeps on giving over these last several years of economic ups and downs.
But secondly, I invest a lot in my band. I buy gear, I haul us around to shows, I record albums, I spare no expense. Hell, if I made even more, I would pay the band members just for showing up to practice.
Investing in a music scene I can enjoy
But it doesn’t stop there. I’ve invested in the music scene in numerous ways, as well. I’ve made high-quality band merch that, in the past, I’ve just given away (in this economy, I unfortunately have to sell it at cost, sorry y’all). I attend as many shows as I can, buy as much merch as I can, and never turn away a chance to play alongside other bands and hype them up.
And I don’t regret a moment any of the money I’ve spent. I don’t regret for a moment investing heavily in my band and music despite the fact that I’ve made a conscious choice not to monetize it (much).
Despite the fact that this is sometimes a bit of a sacrifice, I try to stick to that ethos as much as I can. And there is a big reason for that.
Marketing rocks, but capitalism sucks
I’ve been a content marketer, more or less, for 15 years. And I’ve done a pretty good job at content development and content marketing. In marketing, there is a continual eye on growth and performance. And, not mincing words here, it is hard. It requires a lot of organizational skills, data analysis skills, people skills, word and math literacy, the ability to quickly pivot and change, and the ability to run multiple projects and ideas simultaneously. But I enjoy that kind of stuff. It keeps my mind engaged. And I especially enjoy when you see pieces fall into place, when you see things connect with audiences, when you gain an insight and learn something you didn’t know before. I live for those moments.
Perhaps even more importantly, I believe, that, at its best, marketing connects people to purpose. It helps people. It provides solutions that people are looking for. That’s my jam!
Exponential growth is exhausting
However, this capitalistic pursuit of exponential growth more and more often sees people less as people and more as a resource to be exploited and extracted – and that kind of mindset has become increasingly embedded into our culture and lives.
It’s bad enough that capitalism’s exhaustingly relentless focus on exponential growth drives business and industry to attempt to grow continuously – despite the fact that this simply isn’t possible. It’s bad enough that we have to continually outperform ourselves and others at work.
Social media has made everything transactional
Nowadays, thanks in part to social media, more and more of our conversations, our ideas, and our lives have taken on this same focus. Discourse has become transactional, thought has become transactional, what we do with our lives has become transactional – as we present them and tweak them for the people who follow us on social media. And more and more, if those things don’t get enough engagement or virality, we feel a sense of disappointment and lack of worth – and we change ourselves even more.
Perhaps it’s naive of me, but it’s because of the ultimately transactional and capitalistic nature of our lives that I’ve always fought against myself when it comes to turning my band into another revenue source. Why would I want to bring all of that baggage into a place that is supposed to be a refuge, a place of self-expression, a source of joy?
Art vs. Capitalism: Why I don’t treat music like a product
In my view, this increasingly capitalistic and transactional world we find ourselves in is vehemently at odds with what art is or should be.
Art should be about self-expression. It should be made for the joy of making it (and sharing it, if one so desires). Once you start tweaking or changing things to appeal to others, make money, or hit better KPIs, it’s not art anymore. It’s a product. And that bothers me a lot. Because art is not a product – though the two are increasingly conflated these days.
For better or worse, I never wanted to bring that kind of mindset or ethos into Open Door Policy. I have never wanted to make a living as an artist. Truthfully, I don’t know how you can – as a content creator, sure, but as an artist? I just don’t see how that realistically works given what I mentioned above.
Are artists who make a living off art sellouts? No.
That said, I do want to make it clear that I am criticizing our entire paradigm – the entire world we exist in. I am not criticizing individual artists or bands who do make their art their living. And I hope you will forgive me if I have inadvertently called your artwork a product or called you a content creator.
What you do is often a thankless grind, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for any artists who make it their livelihood. And I will say this right now: You haven’t sold out. You are riding an impossible line between living and dying, sharing important ideas vs. sharing things geared toward mass consumption. I appreciate you and hope you achieve everything you set out to do.
Do Utah bands and artists get paid fairly? Not really.
In fact, as contradictory as it may sound – given my own ethos toward music and art – I generally think artists get paid way too little for their work. Especially here in Utah.
Consumers and businesses across the board think too little of art and artists. They think it should all be sold at the same price as mass-produced decoration. They forget about the years of practice, hours of work, and mountain of expensive tools and resources that are behind each piece of art (including songs).
In such an environment, artists ultimately lowball their own work and price it far lower than they should. The problem is especially pronounced for musicians though, who are expected to play for exposure – despite the work that has gone into the songs of even brand new bands who have never played a show.
Art improves our world. Paying artists well is a priceless investment.
And maybe that’s where I diverge from this young woman and others with a more business and capitalist oriented mindset. Because I do think artists should get paid. And I do think they should be paid well. But not because they have a huge fanbase or pull in a large crowd.
I think, whether they’re small or big, new or established, artists should get paid well because they have spent years honing their craft to share ideas worth contemplating – essentially, they have already spent years investing time and money into us. The least we can do is invest in them, in kind.
And investing in them is an investment in our community, culture, and country as well. Because art asks people to reflect and see things from different angles. It prods us to ask if there’s a better way to do things. It acts as a refuge – allowing us to connect to beauty, joy, sorrow, anger, justice, or hope when we need it.
All these things connect us to each other and encourage us to build a better world for everyone.
Why small bands have big ROI value
And, here’s the thing: Art does bring people together. And savvy businesses can capitalize on that – especially a savvy bar or restaurant.
Typically speaking, for bars and restaurants, the people who go there for the drinks, food, and people are going to keep going there for the drinks, food, and people. And those big bands? Well, if you keep rotating between the same handful of acts, you’re going to hit a saturation point. They only have so many fans to go around.
So, ultimately, at some point, you’re not really drawing out new people. Which is fine, if you’re not focused on growth. But if you’re trying to grow and increase profits, then you want to be drawing people who might never come out to your establishment.
This is where the brand new bands with 10 fans or a loyal following of 30 friends and family come in. By getting out of your usual target audience and hosting smaller bands and artists, especially in lineups of three or four, you can get 100+ brand new people through your door on any given night. And if you’re repeating that formula weekly with new and different artists, catering to different genres and styles, that’s potentially 400 new people in your venue every month.
And these hardcore fans will gladly pay a small fee (think $5) to support their friend or family member. And 9 times out of 10, they will enjoy a drink or fries – since they’re there anyways. And not only can you keep them coming back with similarly themed music nights, especially if they feel like part of a growing community, but if you get their phone number or email with ticket registrations, you can target them with similar events, food specials, or happy-hour drinks. And, if they already had a good experience at your venue once, the chances of them coming back out are good.
And if you’re really, really smart, you can pretty easily track the ROI on all of this and tweak it where you need to increase performance. But you are missing out on huge swathes of potential customers by not making your space an accessible place for new artists and small-time bands.
Because the truth is, these artists have communities. And by building a bridge to, and between, these communities, you are building a larger, more cohesive community for yourself.
Balancing authenticity with business
You know what’s funny? On the one side, I feel like I disappointed this young woman for not being more business-minded (which may just be a projection of my own insecurities). On the other side though, I’ve occasionally disappointed my own bandmates for being too business-minded (such as when I forgo doing our punk songs at a kids festival or business event).
One of them might believe that we should not change our sound for others – and, gosh dang it, if we disrupt some sensitivities during a show, that’s ART! And while I certainly agree with that in principle, I would argue that we’re not actually changing our sound for others. We can share different sides of ourselves depending on the situation and context – while still remaining authentic to who we are.
So, should bands curate a different sound for different crowds? Or is that “selling out,” too? You can make your own judgements, but it’s a “no” to me! Just be yourself, whatever you do!
What’s your legacy? Money? Authenticity? Community?
I suppose if there’s one thing I strive for in this world (aside from being self-contradictory), it’s being authentic. And to that end, I would simply ask all of us, including business owners with dreams of growth and profit: What kind of world do you want to build? What kind of world do you want to leave behind as a legacy?
Because the infinitely increasingly transactional world we are building is incredibly exhausting to me. I imagine it must be for all of us. I understand we all need to do things for the money (though I absolutely reject the notion that this is the way things must be).
However, I hope, for those with the privilege to do so, you’ll provide yourself and your finances some space to invest in things that are immeasurable.
Because, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that unshackling art from money is liberating. Unshackling community from performative gestures is freeing. And unshackling ourselves from transactional relationships brings peace and joy.
