Jeeni Blog

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Ariana May - ‘First Love’ Album Review

/ By Doug Phillips
Ariana May - ‘First Love’ Album Review

Ariana May’s first instrumental album is a delicate and stirring collection of piano excellence.  

Ariana May has been a vital Jeeni member for a while now and has developed an incredibly in-depth and fascinating showcase full of art-pop and remarkable talent. Recently, she has uploaded the entirety of her new instrumental album, ‘First Love’ on to Jeeni. Listen now via Ariana’s showcase available here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/arianamay/

As sweet and melodic her voice is, Ariana’s choice of expressing her compositions purely through her piano means that the structures are much more freeing and aren’t constricted to modern pop’s verse, chorus, verse, chorus, chorus forms. Her musicianship flows almost spontaneously; tempo decreases and increases as Ariana sees fit and phrases are fluid in length and timbre. 

The titles are excellent tonal suggestions as they act as a sort of starting point of picturing the imagery that Ariana clearly has in mind during both composing and performing these dramatic and theatrical pieces. Ariana May shows a real knack for cinematographic songwriting as it’s not difficult at all to imagine any one of these pieces as a perfect accompaniment for a location-setting scene in cinema. 

The final track, ‘Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow’ is exceptional, especially considering the tonal balance Ariana creates. A moody left hand mostly mumbles in a depressed, constant rotation of dark notes; meanwhile, the right is desperately trying to sound uplifting and optimistic through bright, ascending melodies and phrases. The two parts feel like two characters that are trying to influence the other to behave more like them at different moments of the piece, showing a vivid internal conflict, hence the ‘Sweet Sorrow’ in the title. The changes between these mindsets are sudden and frantic, a perfect representation of a troubled mind. 

What’s special about these types of projects is that a breakdown or analysis of these compositions could easily be miles from what Ariana had envisioned when writing it, but the freedom given to the listener with a vague title and complete absence of lyrics allows your imagination to fill in gaps and colour in the compositions with meaning and intention that makes most sense to you; it becomes personal. 

Throughout 'First Love', Ariana constantly shows an unprecedented level of emotion and control in her playing through her soft and poignant broken chords and melodies. Check out the entirety of this enchanting record on Jeeni: https://jeeni.com/showcase/arianamay/

06
Jun

My Lockdown A-Z Happiness Manifesto – Why imagination, creativity and gratitude can be a cure for all.

By Sammie Venn Jeeni's Official Writer, Columnist and Blogger. Here at Jeeni.com we celebrate and support all musicians and performers, and poetry has its own dedicated channel for artists and performers to showcase their work and earn 100% of their sales, ticketing, merchandise and donations. Jeeni returned to Crowdcube to raise more funds for helping new talent and has already raised £93K, our target is £100K and we have 27 days to go, so we are likely to overfund, which is just amazing. Thanks again to all our wonderful investors. If you want to see our pitch click HERE. Today we showcase Sammie Venn as a very talented and creative writer. I have always been fascinated by the power of the human imagination: the capability of the brain and its capacity to unlock a unique world for every person on the planet. Our thoughts are as unique as fingerprints, so powering up the hippocampus to unravel the labyrinth of our minds can be even more challenging when we are physically isolated from those we love and care for. Lockdown has given us all time to think, sometimes overthink, and evaluate key priorities. These thoughts are often fear-based and at other times they are fuelled by excitement and possibility. At the beginning of COVID-19 I had a long list of ‘lockdown goals’ that I wanted to achieve. I thought I would be able to use the time efficiently to compartmentalise my life, throw some order at the chaos and come through the other side a more polished version of myself. Of course nothing ever goes according to plan. Therefore it felt like the right time to seize the day and further the knowledge and understanding of the human mind, body and soul. The relevance of which resonates even more after being catapulted into a matrix that can only described as something akin to Aldous Huxley’s ‘Brave New World’.  Hermann Hesse, German-born Swiss poet, painter, novelist and writer wrote:  “I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books. I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” His works explore how an individual searches for authenticity, spirituality and self-knowledge.  Unsurprisingly, he won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1946 and has been a real influence when it comes to deciphering principles relating to what education means to me. Kindness, hand in hand with knowledge, is key in my happiness manifesto. September has always been my favourite time of year, a throwback to academia. However online courses in every arena conceivable have become the new normal. We have been unable to sit in classrooms or studios with our fellow peers, so zoom has become the portal for the education of the masses, including our children. The upside is that teaching has become readily accessible and certainly not restricted to certain times of the year. We can learn in the comfort of our own homes, in our pyjamas, with a cup of tea, glass of wine or even sat in the garden. However education is not just about studying for an end goal, its about embracing all that surrounds us, what our culture has to offer and the lessons that we can learn from that. Music teaches us how to express our emotions, whether that is through song writing, performing, dancing or just singing in the shower. We can develop our understanding of life’s twists and turns on a completely different level. The world of music teaches us not just about love, lust, happiness and passion but also about the bonds we have with our fellow human beings. It also lectures us on history, politics and sociology. Music is a platform that enhances our understanding of the world in a magical way, we remember song lyrics, we remember nursery rhymes, we remember the chants and hymns of our ancestors. We learn to come back to ourselves through the power of sound. My education in lockdown encompassed all these salient points. I reconnected on all levels with my hearts centre and created a lockdown happiness manifesto, which by and large I have managed to stick to. My A-Z goes something like this: Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

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

03
Sep

The Creator of Jeeni.

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.” It is day 5 today and we have raised 98% of our target £100K. 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! There was once a little Quaker boy called Charlton, who got sent off to a nice school in Oxfordshire. Charlton liked videogames very much indeed, and when he turned thirteen he became a fan of one particular game which was called Deus Ex Machina. It was hopelessly life-affirming and it allowed him to influence the plotline and outcome, just like a load of similar games. But it was also the first truly interactive movie, running in real time, with voice actors and a full music soundtrack. It came with a large monochrome poster of the face of a beautiful, innocent, yet alluring lady robot, which the boy hung on his wall. And that thought pleases me, because I was the creator of the game, and my intention was to blow the minds of children just like Charlton. Ten years later, he was no longer a Quaker schoolboy but a stroppy atheist, and he was making a living writing very naughty cartoon strips and highly scurrilous columns for a computer magazine called PC Zone. I hope his career choice was influenced by the naughty cartoon strips and scurrilous columns I was writing for the rival magazines he devoured, but I suspect he already considered me to be an old fart. Back then I believed it was my mission to take the piss out of anyone and everyone in the computer industry, and so did young Charlton. He was calling himself Charlie by then. Charlie Brooker. Today, Charlie Brooker is probably best known as the creator of the Netflix phenomenon Black Mirror. In a brilliant episode, he didn’t just nick my idea of an interactive movie where players influence the plotline and outcome, he went and did it for real. He set his episode in 1984, which was the year of my game’s release, and he hung my old poster on the wall for a touch of authenticity. And yes, he did ask permission. And yes, I was more than happy to give it to him. And no, he didn’t pay me. Brooker’s use of the branching narrative was absolutely seamless, and when the viewer-player-actor makes a choice via a mouse or remote control there is absolutely no buffering involved. And just like in my old game, if the viewer-player-actor refuses to make a choice, then the movie-game-stage makes it for them. In the future, I am sure this technique will become an active tool of the porn and ultra-violence industries, but consumers of mainstream entertainment have become more and more bone idle over the years. In fact vast numbers can’t even be bothered to select the crap entertainment they watch or play, but allow algorithms to select for them. So no, this is not the future of movies, it’s the past. Charlie Brooker didn’t predict this, and neither did I. It was predicted by Ray Bradbury in his 1953 novel Fahrenheit 451, where books have been banned because they encourage people to think, and the 1966 film of that story was one of my greatest influences. In the movie, the writer/director François Truffaut introduces us to a world in which the masses consume pap via personal screens, and believe they have choice in determining the outcome of all sorts of vacuous plotlines. They don’t, of course, and the purpose of such so-called entertainments is to pretend the people have a say in the way things are run, what choices they have, and what garbage they believe in. And here we are, more than half a century later, living in just such a society. And we don’t even need movies to condition the masses, we can use videogames. People who live-stream their gameplay are called streamers. People who watch them playing are called lost souls. Today more people watch streamers play sports simulations than watch live sport. This passive practice is ridiculously popular on streaming sites like Twitch, YouTube and a whole host of others. Even back in 2014, Twitch streams for computer games attracted more traffic than America’s leading cable and satellite network HBO, with professional streamers mashing up high-level play and banal commentary. Now they can extort big money from sponsors, subscriptions, and donations. Last year, passive viewers watched active players for more than 450 billion minutes of streamed content on Twitch alone, as the streamers jiggled and babbled while playing with themselves at FIFA 19, Monster Hunter World and all the rest. One such streamer is a charming young man called Richard Tyler Blevins, who sports attractive neon-tinted hair and goes by the name of Ninja. He has minted around ten million dollars from subscribers who pay to watch him play a game called Fortnight. Let me just make that clear – they are not paying to play Fortnite themselves, they are paying to watch Mr Ninja play. Fortnite involves a hundred players at a time who fight and butcher one other to the death until only one is left alive, all in high-definition video. There are currently 200 million players of the game. The youngest players are aged eight, which should worry their parents, but probably doesn’t because mom and pop are too busy passively watching some other streamer. The average age of a Fortnite player is 13, which is the same age as the schoolboy Charlie Brooker was when my hopelessly life-affirming game helped turn him into a potty-mouthed cynic. At least I know I succeeded in something. Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com