Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

A Year In Provence - ‘Bleeding’ Single Review

/ By Doug Phillips
A Year In Provence - ‘Bleeding’ Single Review

The latest of just two electric singles from this emerging Kent rock force, ‘Bleeding’ shows a passion and level of musicianship that can’t be faked. 

As is a recurring development for blossoming artists, the pandemic produced the current, streamlined ‘A Year In Provence’ line-up. All hailing from Kent, AYIP currently consists of: Matt Porter controlling the melodies with his powerful vocals, the bass, handled assertively by Adam Bacon, James Ferner providing groove-essential rhythm guitar and backing vocals, Dan Wing for the commanding lead guitar and Jack Smith’s drumming, rhythmically guiding the entire ensemble through their rock-pop callbacks. 

Brand new to Jeeni, AYIP have contributed both of their excellent tracks to their Jeeni showcase, adding even more substance to the rock channel. Check out their young, yet exhilarating showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/a-year-in-provence/

‘Bleeding’ takes its time, structurally, and interestingly doesn’t typically call back to previous sections, at least not in their initial forms. This single opens with full, proud classic pop-rock guitar chords that ring out mostly in the offbeats, certainly in lieu of Weezer’s ‘Say It Ain’t So’ albeit with a more present energy in the verses.  

As the other parts join, the attention and care taken to the mix is made obvious. Crystal clear vocals show no sign of struggling to be heard over the washy cymbals, or three layers of guitar, not an easy feat for a band so early in their discography. No parts eat into other areas and are individually made clear and present. 

This single is constantly moving and progresses organically much like a live performance, as you can hear the members grow in energy; the alternative to which is to harvest previously recorded parts and use identical pieces of audio in several, different places which, although is sometimes a logistical necessity in a studio, often results in an unplaceable feeling of “sameyness” and a lack of effort, something that cannot be heard at all in ‘Bleeding’. 

As is also a theme with Jeeni’s budding new artists, A Year In Provence have made certain promises with their singles, and something about the five-piece inspires hope about fulfilling such promises. Check out their showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/a-year-in-provence/

How can Jeeni support artists like A Year In Provence?  

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. 

05
Jun

Black equality - in and out of music.

by Cherie Hu. I normally open up these articles with a standard “Happy [day of the week]!” greeting, but that feels inappropriate today.I was going to publish a “normal” newsletter earlier this week featuring my latest music-tech articles, but found it necessary to take a backseat in service of much more important conversations happening around the world. I wanted to share some thoughts on the conversations and realizations I’ve had with people in music this week about the responsibilities that we have, both as individuals and as a collective industry, to do better.Respect to everyone who took time off on Blackout Tuesday. I don’t intend on publishing my opinion on how the day went, because I don’t see that as my role and frankly have a lot more researching and listening to do to better understand all the issues at hand.I personally decided to continue working on Tuesday, but with a focus on gathering data and evidence that could point to concrete areas where the music industry could improve with respect to Black equality. I elaborate on them below with some additional context.The issues that are top of mind for me focus on two actions that all of us can start doing right now in service of Black equality, both in and out of music: Following the money (economics), and tracking what you see (visibility).  1. Only 8% of corporate music execs are Black. Lack of racial diversity in the music industry’s corporate and executive ranks is something that many of us feel intuitively. But we actually know surprisingly little, in terms of being able to point to concrete numbers.So, on Tuesday, I got to work. I wrote down the names of all the board members and C-Suite executives across the top three record labels (Universal Music Group, Warner Music Group and Sony Music Entertainment) and their biggest imprints, as well as the top two concert promoters (Live Nation and AEG).There are 61 board members on my list. 53 of them are white, and only five of them — or 8% of the total — are Black: Jon Platt (Chairman/CEO, Sony/ATV Music Publishing)Nadia Rawlinson (Chief Human Resources Officer, Live Nation)Maverick Carter (Board Member, Live Nation)Jeffrey Harleston (General Counsel and EVP of Business & Legal Affairs, Universal Music Group)Kevin McDowell (EVP & Chief Administrative Officer, AEG). If we expand our scope to include President and Executive Vice President (EVP) roles as well, the percentage does improve slightly. The total number of executives on my expanded list with President/EVP roles increases to 121 people. 92 of them are white, while 22 (around 18% of the total) are Black. All the additional Black execs on this list work at label imprints, specifically RCA Records, Epic Records, Motown Records, Island Records and Atlantic Records. Contrast this to what we see in the public-facing artist landscape: The USC’s Annenberg Inclusion Initiative found earlier this year that underrepresented races and ethnicities actually over-index on the list of top-charting performers compared to the general U.S. population (56.1% versus 39.6%, respectively). The relative absence of Black leadership in the upper echelons of an industry like mainstream music that profits off of developing Black culture and talent is clearly a problem. A similar problem pervades the music industry: We can’t just put Black executives into “urban” roles.As in politics or any other part of business, it’s difficult to effect change around these problems without measurable benchmarks. So consider this a call for music-industry companies to start seriously measuring, and openly sharing, the state of their own racial equity.Trade body UK Music published a diversity report in 2018 covering both ethnicity and sex, which I remember sparked a lot of helpful conversations on a global level. The RIAA has yet to publish any aggregate diversity statistics about its own constituents in the U.S. This needs to change as soon as possible — which requires collective acknowledgement from major music companies that their internal whiteness is a serious issue that needs to be publicly addressed and resolved.Music companies should also take a tip from Google’s Diversity Report and measure not just the absolute number of Black employees, but also hiring and attrition rates across demographic groups.  2. The flow of money is moral, not just financial. It’s often said in politics, and must also be said in business: Budgets are moral documents.You can’t talk about anti-racism and Black inequality in music without talking about how the money flows. But don’t listen to me. Listen to the conversations that Black artists and music-industry professionals are having about what steps need to be taken after Blackout Tuesday — almost all of which involve improving economic equity and opportunity.Every Black person you meet in the industry, and probably many non-Black people as well, will likely have a story about an emerging Black artist they know who got thrown into disproportionately unfavorable contracts, and who had limited access to resources like lawyers, business managers and general industry education that could help them better evaluate deals.Going beyond anecdotes and actually gathering evidence of this rampant phenomenon is difficult, because it requires navigating a complicated web of NDAs and political relationships. But it’s also the first place people are turning in their demands for change.Nothing brings the issue of economic equity to light more than the surreal timing of Warner Music Group’s IPO, which launched the day after Blackout Tuesday.I’m not calling out Warner Music specifically as the biggest culprit in the industry, nor am I saying that an IPO is inherently racist. I’m thinking about more systemic issues in how this money will flow. All of the major label’s $1.9 billion IPO money will go to Blavatnik, an older white man who donated $1 million to President Trump’s inauguration campaign, and to a handful of individual, mostly white Warner Music executives who already had shares in the company. None of it will go to Warner Music on the organizational level, and so none of it will go to the artists whose back catalogs make the label such an attractive investment to Wall Street in the first place.Birdman Zoe, who manages the likes of Taz Taylor and Nick Mira, recommended that WMG shares be included in artist deals, not just a cash advance. Many others have recommended this in private conversations with me as well.In general, Black people's call for a serious, internal reflection on how much revenue from Black artists’ catalogs the labels are keeping for themselves should not be ignored. Also, as Sabri Ben-Achour puts it in a recent episode of Marketplace: “The stock market reflects the corporate economy of the future, not the real economy of today.” Hence why a billion-dollar IPO launching the day after a series of discussions about improving economic equity for Black artists feels so strange. It’s all connected.  3. We need to take equity in online events more seriously. Livestreaming as a format and paradigm is now top-of-mind for the music industry as the live-events sector continues to face an uncertain future. In general, video, not lean-back audio, is now the leading indicator of music culture. So we need to take the equity of what we see in these videos seriously.One area where I know many of you reading this can have an immediate impact is making virtual festival lineups more diverse.Several of the highest-profile virtual EDM festival lineups from the past few months — including Room Service Festival, SiriusXM’s Virtual DisDance and the first edition of Digital Mirage — were only 5% to 8% Black, and around 70% to 80% white. (The gender split for these three festivals also skewed 84% to 95% male.)It hasn’t all been doom and gloom, as there have been many examples of diverse lineups as well — from Bandsintown’s net.werk festival, which was curated by Dani Deahl and featured primarily women and people of color, to Global Citizen’s televised One World: Together At Home event, whose lineup was 35% celebrities of color and roughly split down the middle on gender.Overall, you would expect virtual festival and showcase lineups to be more equitable than IRL events, given that promoters have access to a much wider pool of talent without the logistical burden of having to fly everyone to the same physical location. But recent events have shown that this increased equity is not and will not be guaranteed, unless everyone involved draws a line, speaks out and pledges to do better.Artists with enough leverage need to be selective and turn down opportunities on lineups that are not diverse. And of course, promoters need to put in the work to diversify their curation and talent search in the first place.There also needs to be more collective action and accountability. The PRS Foundation’s Keychange initiative successfully brought together over 250 international music companies — including labels, festivals, conferences, symphony orchestras and more — to pledge towards achieving or maintaining a 50/50 gender balance in their programming, staff and/or artist rosters by 2022. A similar rally needs to happen for racial equality as well, especially for Black people in a time where so many Black artists are shaping popular culture.I don't have an answer for what the benchmark should be, but the fact that one doesn't exist or is not being measured is in itself an issue. Again, measuring and improving surface-level visibility certainly isn’t the only thing necessary for systemic change. But anything less feels insufficient. *** Here at Jeeni HQ, we think that Cheri is a brilliant writer and clearly knows her stuff so we will be curating her work for all our members. #jeeni #unsigned #musicians #performers #cheriehu #water&music #blacklivesmatter

12
Mar

Live Virtual Gigs in the Gaming Metaverse

In November last year, a live virtual gig took place in the gaming Metaverse of world platforms. Rapper Lil Nas X took to the stage in Roblox, and performed in a free-to-view event, which broke all previous records to become one of the the most viewed concerts of all time, pulling in a worldwide record-breaking audience of over 35-million visits. Lil Nas X's Virtual Gig - Credit: Still Roblox is a platform of over 50-million user designed video games. The concert was their first, but they have also partnered with music label Monstercat and delivered an album release party for Ava Max. Could this collective gaming audience be the music world's perfect audience of the future? Taking inspiration from Lil Was X's videos and songs, various stages were created for in-game virtual performances using PBR rendering, lighting, shadowing and facial recognition technologies available on the Roblox platfom. Speaking ahead of his performance, Jon Vlassopulos, global head of music at Roblox, said: “We’re thrilled to partner with Columbia Records to bring Lil Nas X fans and the Roblox community together in an entirely new way.“This concert with Lil Nas X will transport players and their friends into the metaverse, and bring to life the future of what immersive, social experiences can look like.” The experience is a long way from the first pixelated forms of performers or being able to control Michael Jackson in the 1990's 'Moonwalker' whilst he rescues children to the sound of his hit 'Smooth Criminal'. However, the online gaming world became a far greater player when Grand Theft Auto realised the potential of licensed music. They allowed players to access perfectly curated radio stations whilst creating chaos and mayhem in the streets of Miami. Michael Jackson in the Moonwalker video game Roblox are not the only gaming platform to take on the music gig. Fortnite allowed Travis Scott to host a gig from a stage in the water off the resort of Sweaty Sands. People attended the concert from wherever they were in the game, as their personally created avatar, whilst they continued to fire at the people around them. Travis Scott's Virtual Gig in Fortnite The following concert was brief, just a 10-minute pop of Scott's hits, with incredible visual pyrotechnics. The world of Fortnite transformed kaleidoscopically around Scott and the artist came right up to the viewers, giving the sense of being able to reach out and touch him. One moment, fire poured from his body; the next, his face melted to reveal a robotic skull. According to developer Epic Games, more than 28m people watched the show. Gaming Metaverse platforms like Roblox, Minecraft and Fortnite are being chosen for these live virtual gigs because their worlds are moving into something beyond gaming. The platforms are used by kids wanting to hang out with their mates and socialise, a virtual environment which has become so relevant and meaningful to the users during the pandemic lockdowns.

10
Jun

Mel's bedtime story

Once upon a time, I created a platform called jeeni.com which is where independent artists perform their music in front of new fans, and get rewarded for their efforts. On a Saturday night we ran a live global music festival featuring 18 acts from both sides of the Atlantic. The oldest performer was over 70, the youngest was under 10. They were brilliant, each in their own way. We broadcast over social media and websites. There were no adverts, there were no fakes, there was no hype. It didn't cost us a penny to run. Everyone had a ball. We are part of a revolutionary process that is killing a corrupt and rotting music industry which has held both audience and performer to ransom since the 1890s. So if you will indulge me, I'd like to tell you how, and why ... I'm an old hoarder, I hoard old music recordings, and when I say old I mean really old. Upstairs, in what was once a studio but has turned into an Irish Setter leisure lounge, there are several hundred wax cylinders from the 1890s. Each cylinder is a unique recording from an age before duplication was possible. If Miss Florrie Forde wanted to sell a hundred copies of Hold Your Hand Out You Naughty Boy to her adoring public, then she had to keep lubricated and trill the bloody thing into a brass horn a hundred times and record it onto wax in real time. But to me the beauty of these cylinders is not that each one is a unique recording, but that each one is mercifully short, rotating at 120 revolutions a minute and lasting a meagre two minutes, because that's all a wax cylinder can hold. And so the two minute pop single was born. At the start of the twentieth century discs replaced cylinders, but not a lot changed. I have another room full of shellac discs that spin at 78 revolutions a minute. When it came to pop singles from artists bringing joy to the world throughout the first half of the twentieth century, they had just under three minutes to do it in. And if they were any good, just under three minutes was plenty. I feel personally to blame for what happened next, because in the hour of my birth in 1948, the microgroove vinyl disc hit the market, spinning at what my Irish chums call dirty tree and a turd revolutions per minute. I have an entire wall of vinyl albums, with their glorious covers and sleeve notes. And yes, they are arranged in alphabetical order by artist and date-order of release. Their storage capacity is approximately twenty-five minutes a side, which is usually twenty-two minutes too long. And on the opposite wall is where all my CDs sulk, each one capable of storing seventy-four minutes of audio, and not one of them played since the turn of this century. Why? Because a hacker called SoloH went and ripped the source code of something called the Fraunhofer MP3 encoder and spread it all over the internet for free. Thanks to SoloH, I can not only digitise my entire collection of recorded music without any restrictions on playing time, I can access the entire library of everything that has ever been recorded, for ever. My phone weighs exactly the same as my 78rpm copy of Little Richard's single Tutti Frutti, which runs for two minutes 28 seconds of total perfection. My phone holds 21,417 tracks in MP3 format, some of them complete symphonies, which are pretty good, some of them prog-rock drum solos, as used by Viet Cong torturers to break the spirit of the enemy. My desktop hard drive and cloud-accounts contain too many tracks to keep track of. I declare that my motivation for amassing this ludicrous collection of music was that one day it would bring me comfort in my old age, when my body and brain become enfeebled and I feel the need to keep hold of past pleasures while dying. As it turns out, I started playing my collection early, during lockdown, and wished I was dead by the end of day three. The singles were great, but the albums were mostly insufferable. Which is when I realised that the music album is stone dead, and the nightmare of a lifetime of audio padding is finally over. Then the real truth hit me. The recorded music industry is dead too. Thanks to COVID19 there has been an explosion of new creativity. Everyone is now a record producer, anyone can run a broadcast music channel, and that's exactly what everyone and anyone seems to be doing, including me. The spongers and leeches and shysters have been exposed as completely unnecessary, as have most of the agents, publicists and managers. They are no longer able to milk performers in our new world of social distancing, because they have lost their power. It's the remote audience that now has the power, and this audience wants instant gratification, not a load of overhyped, overwrought, overlong, flimflam. Jeeni.com is my final project in a very long career. I'm giving my artists three minutes per track to nail it, because that's what my old hoard tells me is right. And I hope you agree that in order to shine, three minutes is all that anyone should ever need.