Emily White: NPR Intern. Future Parent.

There was a big kerfuffle last year when an NPR intern by the name of Emily White noted she had paid very little money for the music in her collection.

Commence Internet apoplexy.

The response that got the most attention was a long response from David Lowery, best known for his work in Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker, who is probably one of the smartest guys in rock music, not to mention very knowledgeable about the economics of the recording industry. (His presentation at the EMP Pop Conference a couple years back was thoroughly entertaining and enlightening.) It is multiple thousands of words, Lowery’s response, but let me sum it up: Emily was wrong.

At the most basic of levels, I agree with Lowery, though my notions of why Emily was wrong had more to do with ethical considerations than econo-ethical reasons. Meaning, an illegal download is something done without the content creator’s consent. Lowery also suggested that the low rate of return of services such as Spotify and Pandora treat musicians unfairly, a topic he returned to in a slightly overhyped manner a year later.

My purpose here is not to address the idea of whether there is such a thing as "fair trade music." Instead, I want to look forward 10 years to when Emily becomes a parent.

OK, I don't know anything about Emily and her personal life. But even if she doesn't have kids, plenty of her friends will. And the question I want to address here is, what does that mean for kids music?

I think that most kids musicians would feel pretty lucky in that their fans (or, rather, their parents) actually buy CDs. Or iTunes downloads.

They are not looking on illegal downloading sites.

Yet. 

But things are changing quickly.  With services like Spotify and Pandora allowing streaming of music for free (with varying types of controls), even law-abiding folks have ever-increasing opportunities to listen to their favorite music -- or their kids' favorite music -- without having to pay a cent.  That's not to mention services like Bandcamp and Soundcloud which make it easy for musicians to share their music for free.

Not that all of them want.  Justin Roberts has led the charge, kindie-wise, against Spotify.  In an article in the Chicago Tribune a few weeks back, Roberts notes he gets about a half-cent per song -- that'd be 6 cents if Roberts put his latest album Recess on Spotify (it's not -- just the title track).  He notes that "It's frustrating to see something that I spend a year of my life working on and a large amount of money to make be almost completely worthless when it comes out."  And from that perspective, who could blame him?  There are probably only a handful of albums I've ever listened to 150 times or more, which would generate the same net revenue that buying the album for $12 on Amazon would probably provide.

It should be clear that Spotify is not a revenue generator.  It is, at best -- if at all, and it's not clear that it is -- a promotional tool that might generate enough money in a year for Roberts to have dinner out, maybe with his wife, but if so, then not at a very fancy place. 

So he's taking a stand for purchasing albums.  In an interview this summer with Kids Can Groove, Roberts said:

"I think streaming services like Spotify and Pandora are great for music discovery, however, they are quickly becoming a substitute for people actually purchasing recorded music and I find that troubling. As an independent artist with a small but devoted fan base, I rely on people purchasing recordings to pay back the expensive costs of making a professional sounding record. Beyond that, sales of recorded music has been one of my main sources of income as an independent musician.”

The problem as I see it, is Emily White.

Well, not Emily specifically -- I've never met her.   But even if she's the exception now -- and I'm not sure she is -- she won't be the exception ten or even five or even fewer years from now.

The worst-case scenario is this -- music, along with all sorts of other entertainment, becomes increasingly commoditized. There are no more personal relationships with musicians as music becomes just another thing to fill an entertainment gap. And getting music -- entertainment -- for free or via all-you-can-eat entertainment buffets becomes the default mode of consumption, which works out OK if you're Beyonce or Lady Gaga or whoever else can afford to invest a million or two in generating a blockbuster, but not so well for artists in niche fields.  (While I'd like to believe the fanciful scenario of Jennifer Egan's incredible prize-winning novel A Visit from the Goon Squad , I don't see kids music saving the record business.)
 
On top of that, kids' musicians face the additional challenge of recreating their fan base every 5 years or so as fans age out of their target audience.  At least Beyonce and Lady Gaga (and even, it should be noted, fellow Spotify-hater Thom Yorke of Radiohead) have years of fanbases which slowly accrete. 
 
Am I suggesting that every kids musician give up the ghost now?  Are they all doomed?  Well, no, but I think that the kindie world needs to re-think what they're doing.  I'm not saying that kids musicians haven't thought of these issues -- and in many cases, folks will say "Der.  Known that and been doing that for years now."   And I know that what I'm about to say is easy for someone who isn't trying to make a living making music -- believe me, I totally get that.  But here is what I think artists, even and especially kindie artists, will have to do to keep making a living.
 
1) You are not in the record business anymore -- you are in the music business: It may take a little longer, but eventually musicians will not make the majority of their income from selling records.  They will have to make up the difference from streams, from concert revenue, merch sales, and the kindness of strangers.
 
2) You are not in the music business -- you are in the relationship business: How are you going to make money? You're going to convince families that they should let you into their lives.  For a lot of artists, that's going to be through performing live.  For some others, that may be through media for which music is secondary -- books, videos, apps, puppet shows.  And for a handful, it may still be through selling records, either on CD or as bits.  But I think artists will make most of their money through the connection -- intense connections even -- they make, especially in ephemeral, not-to-be-duplicated ways.
 
Why are Kickstarter projects all the rage right now?    It's because people want to connect to and support the work of creators.  In fact, while I the pre-order is the most popular type of reward for music projects, I think there's room to convince fans to contribute for the sheer joy of connection.
 
It is possible that some artists may also make their living through performing for non-paying crowds -- in libraries, for example, or in schools.  But long-term success in the former is going to require that same connection that good artists have had for centuries.  And success in the latter will increasingly put you, the artist, in the role of teacher of a subject.  Can you tell stories that teach kids a specific subject?  Is that what you want to do?  If so, great -- if not, then you need to find a new venue.  (And, while we're on that subject -- yes, you should find the venue.)
 
3) You are in it for the long haul: Finally, I think that it's possible that one of kindie artists' greatest hurdles is inextricably linked to one of kindie music's keys to long-term success.  Kids musicians need to constantly find new audiences as their old ones age out.  But at some point, those audiences become parents.
 
They become, in short, Emily White.  All that time spent dealing with parents as the intermediators suddenly becomes less important as those 28-year-olds remember being 5 years old spinning around at a concert, laughing to a story told on CD, or watching a funny video on YouTube.   I joke about how nobody becomes a parent and says with an awed voice, "They write books for kids?" because that's the situation we're in when it comes to kids music.  What happens 5 years from now when the generation who grew up on Ralph's World's debut album, or Laurie Berkner's Whaddaya Think of That? , or Dan Zanes' Rocket Ship Beach , or Roberts' Great Big Sun  welcomes a child into the world?
 
If that artist is still making music, it's possible that they could recoup the benefit of those parents remembering the joy they felt dancing to Justin Roberts at the Getty Museum on a bright summer Saturday afternoon.  They could even recoup the benefit of grandparents remembering the joy they felt watching their kid dancing to Justin Roberts at the Getty Museum on a bright summer Saturday afternoon.
 
Those moments, moments that artists like Roberts and dozens of others excel at creating, are what will convince parents like Emily White to share their money.

Weekly Summary (10/28/13 - 11/3/13)

Itty-Bitty Review: Back in Blue - Imagination Movers

The Imagination Movers were essentially kindie before kindie became cool.  Created in the early 2000s, the Lousiana-based band independently released 3 albums of kids' pop-rock before being recruited by Disney for their eponymous TV show on Playhouse Disney (now Disney Junior).

Their latest album Back in Blue  is released by Disney and features songs from the third season of the TV show, along with unreleased tracks written for the show.  For the most part, the tracks hew closely to the rock-pop formula that served them so well on the show (and live).  Given their origins as music written for the show, the songs have more of an educational/plot-driven feel (not to mention an ever-so-slightly younger age focus and an average sub-2-minute-per-song length).  But the Movers take pride in writing and playing all their own material, and it's clear they haven't sacrificed their love of the rock of their own youth (you'll have to ask the band whether "On Your Marks" is just an homage to Tom Petty's "Don't Do Me Like That"; you won't need to ask at all what "Gotta Get Your Work Done" is an homage to).

The 26-track, 47-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 3 through 6.  I preferred their previous album, the post-Disney Rock-O-Matic, to this one, as it felt freer, sillier, and less plot-driven, and if you're not familiar with the band or the show, that might be the better entry point.  (I'm pretty that that album was written after this one.)  But if you liked that album and -- especially -- if you're a fan of the show, then you should try this one, too.  Recommended.

Note: I was provided a copy of the album for possible review. 

A Brand New Feature: iOS App Reviews

I've reviewed a handful of iOS apps over the years here, but I've received and played with enough of them, especially over the past year, that I think it's time I pulled them out into a separate page and dedicated some (occasional) time to them. 

So I've set up a brand new page (accessible through the "Discover Kids Music" drop-down menu on the right-hand side of the page) called iOS Apps (Music & More).  As the name suggests, it'll be a lot about music-based apps, but won't be totally limited to that.  They'll all be kid-friendly, though.

Right now, there's just one review -- of the new app from the Pop Ups and Mibblio called Miss Elephant's Gerald -- but I'm aiming for a weekly review.  Read the introduction to find out more, and if you've got an app you'd like to share, you know where to find me.

Review: Kingdom Animalia - The Short Films

When you receive as many kids music albums -- and press releases -- as I do, you tend to discount claims from newcomers to the kindie world that some album brings something new to the kids music.  (The guaranteed surefire best way to get an experienced kids music reviewer to listen to a kids music album with an unpromising attitude? Have them introduce it to the reviewer with the phrase "Finally, a kids music album the whole family can enjoy.")

So given that I was introduced to Canadian band The Short Films via this April article which suggested that there wasn't a lot of complex kids music out there, this could all have gone very poorly.  But before I dismissed them out of hand, I listened to one of the tracks, "Mr. Wolf," and realized that, whatever the band's familiarity with current kindie music notwithstanding, their album Kingdom Animalia (released a couple weeks ago) could very well offer a distinctive sound.

Calling that song a reworking of the Three Little Pigs story only scratches the surface of its oddity -- Tessa Jennison's powerful and distinctive voice struttingly gives a different perspective on the pig-wolf interaction while husband Russell Jennison and drummer Ryan Dugal create an atmospheric background that perfectly matches the slight sense of unease of the lyrics ("So don't misunderstand them / When they ask you in for tea, / 'Cause they always have a crazing / For a wolf between the teeth").

The entire album has a dream-like effect -- "Pegafox" is about a make-believe animal, for example, the body of a red fox with the wings of a red-tailed hawk.  "The Mysterious Okapi" is the kids song we never knew Portishead had written about an animal almost none of us know.   Even songs about relatively common animals like "Cat," which features a vigorous piano accompaniment from Jennison herself, outlines the (accurately) complex feelings we often have with our pets ("I'm a cumbersome burden who sits at your door / Like a cat who won't stay away, / "Who is eating her way through your shoes and into your heart.").  These are Studied Songs for the Very Young, Raffi as interpreted by Fiona Apple.

The 34-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9.  (It's an album not so much for dancing as for listening, so it might not work for every audience.)  Besides the single track linked above, you can listen via Spotify.  For the moment, it's a digital-only release, though plans are in the works to have an accompanying book featuring the distinctive artwork made in conjunction with the album.

I can't say that Kingdom Animalia is completely unique-- heck, there's already one excellent album about animals that doesn't employ pop-rock as its musical foundation -- but it is lovely and, at times, mesmerizing.  If you've read this far, then I think you have a pretty good idea if your family will love love love this album.  There's room for all sorts in the kindie world -- Raffi and more -- and I'd like to welcome The Short Films to this world.  Please make 'em feel at home.  Highly recommended.

Review: Desert Island Disc - Recess Monkey

Rather than complaining about Recess Monkey's incredibly high level of productivity and quality as I have multiple times in the past, I thought I'd try to, you know, straight-up review the Seattle band's tenth (!) album for families, the recently-released Desert Island Disc.

Novel, I know.   (Besides, how am I ever going to top this interview?)

As with many Recess Monkey albums, the band's latest album is nominally a concept album, loosely tied around the theme of being stranded on a desert island, the follow-up to their last album, this summer's Deep Sea Diver .  And as with most Recess Monkey albums, following the theme isn't strictly necessary, as the songs stand up well enough without the scaffolding of a theme to prop up interest in their young listeners.

Indeed, if the songs hold together in any particular way, it's more in their sound.  In the orchestrations (from Jherek Bischoff, brother of drummer Korum Bischoff), toned-down retro-rock, and love songs, this is easily their most Beatles-esque album since their little-heard debut Welcome to Monkey Town .  From the shuffle of "Pearls of Wisdom" to the sweeping strings on "Dessert Island" to the gorgeous love song "Long Gone," there are lots of echoes of the Fab Four's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band  (save for the "Getting a Sunburn," for which the band is probably getting lawyered up in anticipation of the inevitable cease-and-desist copyright letter from the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson).  Maybe it's just all the ukulele -- never a bad thing in my book -- but the mellow sound puts more emphasis on Drew Holloway's songwriting.

I don't necessarily hear the band playing many of these calmer songs in concert (notable exception: "Hide and Seek"), but I could see this desert island disk being a popular choice for snowed-in wintry mornings.  And, yes, I said "love songs" -- "Long Gone" and "Smooth Sailing" are sweet songs, as emotional as anything as the band's recorded, packing a wallop.

The 40-minute album is most appropriate for kids ages 5 through 9.  As noted above, it's not necessarily as danceable or totally goofy as some of their previously albums, though that's a deliberate choice.  You can stream the whole album here.

One would think that it's difficult for a band to turn out as much great music as Recess Monkey has in the past not-even-a-decade.   I could be stranded on a desert island for that entire period of time and be lucky to write a small fraction of the great songs they've produced over that time.  So let's be thankful that the incredibly productive and focused trio continues to produce wonderful music.  Regardless of Desert Island Disc  actually makes it onto your own family's "desert island disks" collection, it's really good. Highly recommended.

Note: I received a copy of this album for possible review.