Comedian, musician, host of Chris Crofton's Advice King Podcast and former Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton will share his hard-won wisdom with whosoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Facebook and Twitter, and to submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread[at]gmail[dot]com or editor[at]nashvillescene[dot]com.
Dear Advice King,
I just heard that a song needs to play 786 times on a streaming service in order for the artist to receive enough money to buy a cup of coffee. This seems unfair! Is there a better way to support my favorite artists?
Thanks!
—Denise in San Francisco
Oh no. It’s time to bite the hand that doesn’t feed me.™
Hi Denise. I’m a musician. My hit 2018 album Hello It’s Me is on streaming services. I can’t really afford to make the Swedish guy who runs Spotify mad, because I need that cup of coffee he buys me every year. The Swede’s name is Daniel Ek. He is a multibillionaire. That’s right, BILLIONAIRE. Do you know how much money a billion dollars is? I don’t either, but I know that if you have a billion dollars, and you don’t give almost all of it away immediately, you are a fucking monster. If you don’t give almost all of it away immediately, I am forced to conclude that you are interested in playing God.
Do you know how much music Daniel Ek has made? Wanna guess? Did you guess zero? If you did, you are correct. He has made zero music. So why is he in charge of the WHOLE WORLD’S music? Your guess is as good as mine.
I’m going to guess now:
Laziness. The big music labels didn’t want to take the time to figure out how to sell music in a post-Napster world, so they cut a deal. It's a deal that, criminally and forever, devalued my favorite art form. They sold it all. They sold it all without asking — to Daniel Ek — and now there’s no going back.
Artless hands handling art. That’s the crux of the matter. The executive class’s bloody, artless hands, unloading all the world’s music off the metaphorical back of a truck, in the metaphorical middle of the night, in actual Sweden. Then they all run off to Malibu and Monaco — and other places with names that start with “M” — to hide behind abominably expensive hedges, leaving musicians to crowdfund their gas bills, become full-time T-shirt salespeople and “jam in a van” in return for “exposure.” Non-fungible exposure. If Spotify had been around in 1975, Bruce Springsteen would be delivering Postmates in a 1996 Camry right now.
Going forward, music will be made made exclusively by rich kids and ex-Mouseketeers. We can look forward to the worst lyrics ever written from here on out. Rich kids and ex-Mouseketeers don’t have a very, um ... deep well to draw from. That’s the kindest way I could think to say that.
Full disclosure: I use Spotify. I drive a lot for work, and it’s convenient. I don’t have scratched CDs all over the floor of my 1996 Camry anymore, and I can listen to podcasts easily. But, I have a turntable at home. I buy music and merchandise directly from artists at shows, from their websites, and on sites like Bandcamp.com. I subscribe to their Patreons.
If you only use streaming services, and don’t support artists directly, I sure hope you are interested in the inner lives of Mouseketeers ... ’CAUSE THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GONNA GET.
Hoarding wealth, like hoarding anything, is a disorder. Hoarding the wealth generated by other people’s dreams and love (music, art) is a disorder, and a moral failing. I hope Daniel Ek gets a Google Alert about this article during an ayahuasca ceremony, reads it, and barfs even more than he was supposed to.
