Artist Focus: Giack Bazz - A Royalty Revolutionary

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Artist Focus: Giack Bazz - A Royalty Revolutionary

In just five short years, Giack Bazz has crafted a spectrum of ideas and concepts with his discography that a lot artists don’t get around to in their lifetime. Although Giack has expanded his sound to stylistic corners that he even had to create himself, his sound has typically always been centred around alternative, experimental rock, inspired by the likes of David Bowie, Thom Yorke and Devendra Banhart.

Giack studied songwriting at BIMM London where he honed his already present skills as a singer-songwriter. Jeeni is always on the lookout for exciting, new talent that deserves a wider outreach and so, BIMM alumni, Ella Venvell, Jeeni’s artist liaison specialist remembered Giack as a unique and layered act and introduced him to Jeeni’s mission. As well as working with BIMM students, Jeeni has recently become partners with ACM to be at the source of new talent and help to uplift them in their careers.

Hailing from Modena, Italy, the london-based Giack Bazz began his musical journey in 2016 with the sentimental and heart-aching ‘Childhood Dream'. The stunning debut was a means of processing the wave of emotions that came with the passing of his mother when he was just nine. Giack was also lucky enough to be picked up by his region’s arts council to fund a grand rock opera based off the impressive debut.

By kicking off his musical path with such a challenging and maturely profound project, Giack set up a powerful origin, with which he has used to launch into increasingly fascinating works, the likes of which I have never heard before.

As a fairly straightforward 9-track project, ‘Childhood Dreams’ is so far the only vanilla tracklist in Giack’s discography. Giack went on in 2018 to make a long-redundant 2-disc split with his second album, ‘Giack Bazz Is Not Famous’. This album had a more light-hearted, yet angsty indie rock tone which featured more full band arrangements compared to his first. The disc openers, ‘Beetle’ and ‘Forgotten Media’ are certainly two focal points of the project.

The year after came the Japan inspired ‘Haikufy’ which, despite containing 30 tracks, clocked in at under 20 minutes long. This project is the clearest first sign of Giacks experimental tendencies. Ranging from twinkling, dreamy moments to thrashing noise and yelling, the weird and wonderful ‘Haikufy’ still can’t help but feel cohesive as an experimental project due to clear vision and production. ‘Haikufy’ proved to be a vital stepping stone for Giack’s future as an artist and not just experimentally, as it was here where Giack first initiated his “personal protest against the unfair paying scheme of streaming platforms.”

Giack explained to me that “streams are only paid after the first 31 seconds clock in, the rest of the song is worthless for streaming platforms.” And so, by releasing an album that has densely packed in tracks that meet the bare minimum length to gain royalties from streaming services, Giack exploits a system just as they do. It was this concept that gave birth to Giack’s most recent project which is a kind of sibling to ‘Haikufy’ except, instead of 30 short songs, last year’s ‘Impression A.I.’ contained 366 written, mixed and mastered songs in a 6.5-hour timeframe!

Released under the name ‘The Royalty Instrumentality Project’ as a collaboration with partner and producer, Deborah Verrascina, ‘Impression A.I.’ is an inspiring and righteous protest against the unethical operations of streaming services, “By creating a vast album of short songs, we effectively use their system against them.”

With concepts like this; born of passion, research and justice, Giack makes for such a formidable force in the music industry. With Deobrah’s production to polish Giack’s ambitious projects and equally in-depth, albeit sinister marketing campaigns from manager, Marta Teolato, the team of three are a force to be reckoned with when it comes to music royalty justice. Fortunately, the trio are currently planning a similar protest project, fulled by extensive collaboration. Watch this space.

Giack is performing live at The Beehive, Empson Street on the 21^st of January, tickets are available now: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/the-beehive-underground-sound-tickets-211275650157?aff=GiackBazz

How can Jeeni support artists like Giack Bazz?

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 Giack’s Jeeni showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/giack-bazz

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05
Jun

Exploring the Rivalry and Respect between Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson

by Kelli Richards, Jeeni MD USA Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com A guy named Jeffrey Stillwell has put together a great video essay focused on the so-called “rivalry” between the Beach Boys and the Beatles; and in particular the relationship between Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson. They were most certainly inspired by each other creatively and each wound up bringing out the best in each other as both are quick to confess. When “Pet Sounds” came out, it blew the minds of the Beatles, and that was a big catalyst to what would become “Sgt Pepper” in terms of musical experimentation — both are still such iconic albums that it’s hard to believe it’s been 50 years since each was released. This video biopic also chronicles the relationship and interactions between Paul and Brian over the decades, and ultimately the deep respect they have for each other —and it’s worth investing the 20 minutes to watch it. There’s also a personal tie for me here in a couple of ways. As a teenager, I was hugely influenced by both groups and in particular the Beatles; I became a life-long Beatle-ologist as a result (as a hobby). It also led me to a career in music & music tech (initially wanting to be a record producer having immersed myself in the techniques of production) — first as young A&R exec at EMI/Capitol, and then when I launched and ran Apple’s earliest focus on music and entertainment during my lengthy tenure there (where among my responsibilities, I had to deal with the fall out of the lawsuits between Apple Inc and Apple Records – the Beatles’ company). I also parlayed that early production passion into being a talent producer of award shows and celebrity fundraiser events over several decades. One of the events I was asked to co-produce was called “Adopt-a-Minefield” in conjunction the with the United Nations. Paul’s then-wife, Heather Mills, was heavily involved in the cause, and she organized these annual events (I believe there were five) featuring Paul and his band, and another major artist. I co-produced the event in 2002; Paul had invited Stephen Stills and Brian Wilson to perform with him — and the event was hosted by Jay Leno. The event took place in LA, and was a high-ticket event; I believe it was limited to 500 in attendance. I had some interesting conversations and interaction with Paul that evening, who was determined to ensure all the details to do with the production of the event were flawless and well-thought-out. For the 500 of us in attendance, it was magical to watch Paul and Brian doing a duet on both “God Only Knows”, a favorite of Paul’s, and on “Let It Be”. It’s too bad it wasn’t taped so it could be streamed. There can be no doubt of the creative genius and respect these two have for each other’s music and as individuals. As a final aside, Paul and Brian were born just two days apart in June 1942; geniuses in good company from the very start! (There’s a cute clip in the video essay of Brian calling Paul on his birthday and singing a verse from Paul’s “Birthday” song). Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

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

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

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