Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

26,426 views of Jeeni Blogs since we launched Crowdcube

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26,426 views of Jeeni Blogs since we launched Crowdcube

With 5 days to go on Crowdcube we are reflecting on what we could have done better and how we could have improved our campaign, as well as on our successes. Even though we "bust a gut" working 7 days a week for 5 months, we always want to reflect and improve where we can. Both Mel and I are academic in terms of looking at all the options and possibilities and like to analyse our work, and most days we take time to look at how things could be improved. We are not critical of each other, just honest and reflective in an open and supportive way. Jeeni, the social music platform that brings artists closer to their fans and shares revenue ethically, has successfully raised over £340K on Crowdcube across three rounds. If you want to see our pitch click HERE.

As part of the campaign we launched Jeeni.blog which has been a huge success and we have had over 26,426 active views, and my LinkedIn has over 12,000 followers. LinkedIn has become my preferred social media and we have genuinely started moving away from Twitter and Instagram. I find it much more professional, interesting and informative. So as part of our learning we are going to learn how LinkedIn can best support Jeeni going forward.

Our Facebook Group Independent Musicians and Performers has also been a huge success with over 2,500 new and active members with organic growth, and over 1,300 posts, comments and reactions with no advertising spend, engaging with over 30,000 unsigned artists with a zero cost of acquisition.

Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

19
Jan

Artist Focus: Respite

This compelling five-piece formed from an amalgamation of previous bands, mindsets and connections and arose in 2020 as a formidable and commanding alt-rock/pop-punk force known newly as ‘Respite’.   Respite joined forces with Jeeni earlier this year and since then, Jeeni has been hard at work trying to elevate, uplift and support this fantastic group by providing an ethical worldwide platform for their hard-hitting and refreshing craft. Respite is: Andrew Vaughan & Euan Macqueen as guitarists, Ross Crawford on the bass, Reiss Mcleod on the drums and Sam Nicholson on the vocals.  Hailing from Glasgow, the group once known as ‘Finding Argyle’ committed to a brave yet necessary brand change as their sound and creative habits organically shifted and evolved over the major lockdown in 2020. The group formed as the five-piece they’re known as now back in 2015 as a result of recurring opportunities and coincidences and so, the band’s current synergy took shape as a perfect act of fate.  Their days as ‘Finding Argyle’ were decidedly grittier with tracks like ‘Spit’ and ‘Love Like Violence’. Their newer form, ‘Respite’ made a subtle, yet noticeable adjustment in their tone. The lightheartedness was slightly increased as a result of the more melodic and pop-punk inspirations for writing choruses. Vocalist Sam Nicholson is the primary conveyor of their new-found catchiness, held mostly in the anthemic choruses that parade accross most of their spirited songs. The change in vocal style is at times, reminiscent of the much more pop influenced rock style of ‘Deaf Havana’.  Although Respite generally embraces slightly less dark style of songwriting and performing, that doesn’t account for exceptions such as the deeply compelling and hard-hitting ‘Chemical Sleep’.  The music video for which is simple, yet genius; contained in a cramped, red room, the group’s performance energy is barely contained and fills the space to the brim, matching the mood and vigor of the piece to a tee.  Another noticeable and welcome advance in style came from the increased use of synthesis, thanks to guitarist, producer and mastering engineer, Andrew Vaughan. Sam Nicholson put it simply yet aptly that Vaughan is “quite the wunderkind”. On top of mixing and mastering the tracks, Andrew also manages all of the recordings for the group, effectively doing the work of about 6-10 people when compared to a standard studio set-up.   Speaking of, the sound achieved from Respite really is that of a fully-fledged studio arrangement. Clear, concise and tight to a fault, the production and overall contribution from Vaughan is nothing other than remarkable.  As a Glaswegian act, I was interested in the band’s opinion on how the impressive lineup of Scottish rock groups break the mould when compared to that of English or American rock efforts. After conferring with the other members, Sam told me that “I think there's something about the vocals which usually sets them apart, whether that is just the accent, or the way it hits the ear, it does stand out more often than not.” As obvious as it might sound that the iconic Scottish voice plays a major role in differentiating this specific Celtic brand of the same genre from others, it’s nevertheless a profound point that voices from different tribes will react with the ear in different ways. It implies a fascinating discussion about how different ethnicity's natural voices can induce different subconscious responses in listeners. Sam also voiced a tentative concern with lumping acts into the non-genre of Scottish rock and how it can at times be presumptuous, “I personally sometimes wonder if it's too easy to be lumped into "Scottish Rock" and then you're trapped there. It's a double-edged blade though, because, who wouldn't want their name next to bands like Biffy and Fatherson?” It certainly is an under-considered issue of generalising and connecting Scottish acts purely for being Scottish. It unintentionally strips individuality from these fantastic acts like Respite. Although, as Sam points out, it’s not exactly a bad thing to be mentioned among the greats of Scotland. A double-edged blade indeed.  Careful not to mention something the group isn’t ready to divulge just yet, Sam did allude to the future of Respite, “We're currently planning our second EP after a great response to the new tracks, and we're hoping to follow that up with a tour of Scotland, and potentially head down south.”  How can Jeeni support artists like Respite?   JEENI is a multi-channel platform for original entertainment on demand. We’re a direct service between creatives and the global audience.   • We give creatives, independent artists and performers a showcase for their talent and services. And they keep 100% of everything they make.  • We empower our audience and reward them every step of the way.  • We promise to treat our members ethically, fairly, honestly and with respect.  • Access to artist liaison and a supportive marketing team.  Check out Respite’s Jeeni showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/respite-band/ 

03
Sep

Mel's World

Today, Jeeni has returned to Crowdcube to raise more funds for helping new talent. Jeeni founding director Mel Croucher says, “I admit we're ahead of our original schedule, but there's still so much more to do. We need to scale our online platform globally now and build our mass artist showcases. Then we can hit all our targets, and give our new artists the recognition they deserve.” If you want to see our pitch click HERE. Mel has been writing the best-loved column in top-selling tech magazines for over 30 years. Now he's agreed to share his work with all our members. He's a video games pioneer and musician, and to to find out more about Mel check out his Wikipedia page. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mel_Croucher. Here's one of Mel's latest! This place is neither a home nor a prison. It is some sort of institution. It drips a pallid 1980s atmosphere, and it makes me both afraid and excited. I am completely lost in a badly-lit labyrinth of corridors. It feels like I am being toyed with, and I want to leave. Of course I know the rules by now, and the most important rule of all is that I must keep my social distance of an arms-length and avoid physical contact with any other lost souls who wander these passages. They are creepy. They look more like ghosts than real people. Their eyes are disturbing. Sometimes they stare ahead vacantly, sometimes their staring gazes flick to the left and then to the right in a zombie rhythm. I cannot see their noses or their mouths, because they are covered by coloured masks. My own mouth is not covered at all. My own mouth gapes wide open. I think I feel hungry. I think I am searching for food. Perhaps I will find a piece of fruit, or maybe one of those pills I am encouraged to consume. As I turn a corner, I nearly collide with one of the ghostly figures. But I keep calm. I do not panic. I simply turn away and move as fast as I can. Which is not very fast at all. I can sense another presence around the next corner. The passages are only wide enough for one soul to pass at a time. I feel rather hopeless. I feel quite trapped. I think there is a distinct possibility that very soon I will lose my life. I think I need to build a wall before my time runs out. I know how to build a wall, I have had plenty of practice. The bottom rows of bricks slot into place without much trouble. But the more I seem to succeed, the more difficult my masonic task becomes. The stupid smaller bricks take on a will of their own, and the larger bricks feel clumsy in my hands. My wall is becoming a mess. There are big gaps in the structure where an enemy might get through. There are little gaps in the structure where a virus can penetrate. I think I'd better get out of here. I think I'd better find me a new space, one with some ladders to climb up and ledges to crawl along. Perhaps if I navigate these ladders and ledges, I can find my way out. And will you look up there! High above the ladders, almost out of sight, there is a young woman in a purple frock. She is in obvious distress. She calls out to me. Her flame-red hair cascades around her face, and then blows backwards. Which is bizarre, because there is no wind to speak of. Now she screams out, the same word over and over again. The word is help. Her cry is too theatrical. She has a big nose, like Princess Diana, or Pete Townshend. I am not very interested in her. I am much more interested in the beer. It believe that the beer is stored in big wooden barrels, stacked up in strategic places, and seemingly too heavy to be manhandled. But I am able to pick up any barrel I like, magically, without a problem, because I am unnaturally strong. And I am very, very hairy, from tip to toe. If I was once Pacman, now I am the mighty Kong. It has been many years since the viral invaders arrived from the Far East. The Space Invaders. At first the effects of their invasion were only faintly amusing, but then they grew rather attractive, and strangely exciting, and eventually they became quite addictive, even all-consuming. But as with all invasions, their glamour grew dull and they eventually lost their grip on power and faded into folk-memory. Recently, my domestic patterns have been disrupted, just like everyone else's. I have been procrastinating. I have been clearing out the cupboard under the stairs. Which is how I came across this old crate that has been gathering dust for longer than I can remember. Near the top of the crate there was a sleeping collection of very old videogame cassettes, many of which I had published myself. And beneath those old games there were some vintage machines in their original boxes. Once I'd worked out which of their black power supplies went into which of their grubby little holes, they sprang back into life to display crude blocky graphics on their silly little screens. It's been decades since I played Pacman, or Tetris, or Donkey Kong. And the last time I played Space Invaders, silly haircuts were compulsory and Margaret Thatcher was driving around in a tank. When this shitstorm is over, and when I am able to go free-range again, I wonder how long it will take me to forget about all the ghosts in all the corridors from all those bygone times. As for the flame-haired damsel in distress, I remember her name clearly. Her name was Pauline Daniella Verducci Lady Louise. She was less than an inch tall. She was a drip. The beer was virtual. It still is. Jeeni Creator, Mel Croucher - badly in need of a haircut Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

06
Jun

Never too late for Jeeni!

by Mel Croucher I was a young man living in Stockholm. It was the summer of 1969 and I was flat broke. I had the clothes I stood up in, a diploma in architecture and a kazoo. I was too shy to be a busker, so I invented pay-on-demand live-streamed entertainment. I became a human jukebox. I got me an abandoned cardboard box just about big enough to hide inside, and I cut a horizontal slot near the top for my media input/output. Below the slot I punched eight holes to act as the graphic user interface. The reason there were eight holes was because I only knew eight songs, and I scrawled the song title alongside each hole. The idea was for passers-by to provide me with digital input commands by sticking their finger through the hole of their choice, and I would give them a short rendition of the selected song on my kazoo. As a token of their appreciation they would reward me with loose change dropped through a small vertical slot labelled Thank You in English and Swedish. It was very hot squatting inside that box. So here we are, more than half a century later, and the music industry should be in crisis. As a result of the pandemic, artists and musicians have seen their venues close down, festivals cancelled, tours abandoned, and wary audiences slink off to go online. The new normal for live performers should be that they are well and truly buggered. But I am delighted to say the very opposite is true. The new normal has revealed that the traditional models for the entertainment industry were a hoax. All those record labels, agents, managers, ticketers and merchandisers were a bunch of parasites. Half a century later, the new generation doesn't even need a kazoo and cardboard box to squat in for a live performance. They've got smartphones. And they don't need to rely on passers-by to busk at. They've got a global audience, thanks to utilities like Soundcloud, Tidal and Jeeni. Even on Facebook we have the facility for interminable live broadcasts of self-indulgent shite from the box-room. And I'm not just talking about singers and musicians. The same applies to actors, dancers, poets, voiceovers and kazoo virtuosos. There are more independent artists than ever before who have been able to break into the mainstream without any support from a lousy label, a poncy publisher, a suffocating sponsor, mingy manager or arrogant agent. This is an entertainment revolution, where digital distribution, streaming platforms, social media and online marketing tools have changed the way artists perform their work and reach out to fans. By cutting out all the spongers, an independent artist can suddenly enjoy a number of important advantages. To me, the most important is that they now have 100% complete control over the direction of their music, spoken word and creative work. They also have full control over distribution, marketing, artwork, merchandising, deadlines, gigs, ticketing, prices, schedules - in fact all of those affirmative decisions about their creative vision. But it's not just about control. The new normal means that independent artists can keep 100% of all the profits generated from sales, streams, licencing deals, merchandise, and small change dropped through cardboard slots. The reason they can do this is because without the parasites they own all their own stuff. Independent artists own the master rights to their creative work, which means they also have the freedom to negotiate licensing, streaming and publishing deals, and they don’t have to worry about shyster contracts, expensive lawyers, and signing over their rights. Of course the parasites are not going to give up without a fight. Book agents, publishers, distributors and publicists are still clinging on, years after it became obvious that nobody really needs them now that anyone can self-publish in the digital age. In the music and entertainment industry the leeches will still argue that they are vital, even though they already know they are dead. They will keep trying to treat artists like idiots and tell them they don't have the money for mastering, or production or touring or merchandise. Which is a lie, because if artists don't have to pay the leeches then they will save the money. Artists will also be told that they have a limited network of fans and contacts, whereas organisations and labels have access to big fat fanbases and red hot connections with professionals, promoters, booking agents and media. This is an even bigger lie, demonstrated by the fact that even a no-hoper musician like me has a Facebook network big enough to fill The Royal Albert Hall, including the bogs, with or without social distancing. The biggest problem I can foresee in this brave new world of independent entertainment is lack of discipline. Put simply, if creatives were once prepared to rely on a bunch of parasites and leeches, they must now learn to rely on themselves, and that involves actually getting down to some hard work and doing stuff, irrespective of whether or not they have oodles of native talent. Desperation and hunger is an excellent motivator, so I invite the independent artists and performers of the new normal to get hold of their own electronic cardboard box and give it a go. And above all, don't forget to have fun while you're about it. Mel Croucher is the founder of the UK videogames industry, and writer of the most widely-read, longest-running column in computer journalism. He is the founder director of Jeeni and owns a black T-shirt. Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com