Jeeni Weekly Round-up #2

Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

Jeeni Weekly Round-up #2

/ By Freya Devlin

Jeeni's weekly round-up of music and entertainment news.

One in three music industry jobs were lost during pandemic

In a report by UK Music, it was revealed that one in three music industry jobs have been lost as a result of the coronavirus pandemic. The findings were published annual report, This Is Music 2021. According to the report, there has been a "devastating impact" on the music industry with 69,000 fewer jobs in 2020- a drop of 35%.

Additionally, it was found that the music industry's contribution to the UK economy fell by 46%, from £5.8bn in 2019 to £3.1bn in 2020. Coronavirus enforced shutdowns of venues caused live music revenues in the UK to collapse by around 90 per cent in 2020, leaving many musicians, studio and venue staff without work.

Music streaming market facing competition inquiry

The UK’s competition watchdog is to launch an inquiry into the music streaming market and whether it is competitive and fair. Streaming services such as Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon and Youtube will be looked at by The Competition and Markets Authority (CMA).

CMA chief executive Andrea Coscelli said: “The UK has a love affair with music and is home to many of the world’s most popular artists. We want to do everything we can to ensure that this sector is competitive, thriving and works in the interests of music lovers."

COVID is 'creating a new genre' for live music

Lockdowns have forced musicians to think of new ways to perform their music live. Many performing sets over live streaming to a worldwide audience. We've seen more cinematic experiences done by artists such as The Weeknd with his medley performance of Save Your Tears/In Your Eyes at last November's American Music Awards. Alex Lill, the creative force behind The Weeknd's recent videos and live performances, used a "single-shot tracking style and moved it outside onto the bare streets of Los Angeles, transforming the real-world Covid backdrop into his stage. Complete with fireworks, timed pyrotechnics and high-angle shots, it made the location and its atmosphere an active part of the performance."

International touring DJ Hot Since 82 took to the sky using a hot air balloon as a new venue.

Coldplay recieving backlash over "eco-friendly" world tour

Coldplay has pledged to make their world tour eco-friendly, which will be powered with solar panels and kinetic dance floors. They have also modified effects such as lasers to be more energy-efficient, building their set from more sustainable materials such as bamboo and have pledged to plant a tree for every ticket sold. However, the band have received backlash that they will be continuing to fly by private jet. "And the people that give us backlash for that kind of thing, for flying, they're right. So we don't have any argument against that. Singer Chris Martin told the BBC " "We could stay at home and that may be better. But we want to tour and we want to meet people and connect with people - so try and do it in the cleanest way possible."

Jeeni has always been eco-friendly and is something we are very conscious of as a company. Our audiences enjoy entertainment without the cost and pollution of travel, and all Team Jeeni works from home and meet up online.

In Jeeni News

Jeeni is Hiring! We are currently recruiting for the following roles:

• Role 1: Marketing Assistant
• Role 2: Marketing Executive (Digital Marketing)
• Role 3: Marketing Executive (Public Relations)
• Role 4: Jnr Developer
• Role 5: Jnr Developer
• Role 6: WordPress Specialist
• Role 7: Senior Developer
• Role 8: Senior Developer
• Role 9: Sales Executive
• Role 10: Sales Executive
• Role 11: Partnership Co-ordinator

These are Kickstarter Scheme positions (candidate must be aged between 16-24 and on, or have applied for, Universal Credit.

If you'd like to apply for any of the above roles please send your resume to shena@jeeni.com

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06
Jun

Huawei to Hell

Today, Jeeni returns to Crowdcube to raise more funds for helping new talent. Jeeni founding director Mel Croucher says, “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 to 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 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 Mel’s latest! Trade wars are dangerous. When tariffs are imposed, and when sanctions get slapped on, and when one nation ceases to trade with another nation, then a trade war has a funny habit of turning into a real war. And here we all are, slap bang in the middle of a lulu of a trade war between the world’s two most powerful states. This is a trade war that’s not based on essentials like oil, or wheat, or toilet paper, but a trade war based on the pixies and fairy-dust of software algorithms. One day a peace treaty is waved, next day missiles are launched. Here is what happened in the future. The proxy war between the Donald Trump and Boris Johnson axis against Xi Jinping didn’t affect me much, seeing as I had never owned a Huawei handset. I admit that I did find some comfort in the fact that cellphone zombies became totally bereft at the prospect of not being able to view TikTok on their little Chinese screens. All I could say to those morons was - suck it up guys, you had it coming! In the first few hours of the Huawei denial of service attacks, the bewilderment and confusion of being unable to access social media apps soon turned to anger. This was triggered by the fact that the masses were unable to access social media apps to tell one another that they could not access social media apps. They soon realised they couldn’t remember any contact details of any of their virtual friends, or why they were virtual friends in the first place. Neither could they remember where they were, or where anything else was, or how to find their way around the real world at all. And without the Uber app they found themselves physically marooned within the perimeters of their ignorance. Deliveroo failed to respond the following day, so to avoid starvation, people who had a strong sense of smell managed to find their way to MacDonalds. But the computers were down and riots began when the Cola ran out, as slow-motion customers blamed Covid19 for the fact that China and the USA were having a software spat. That night, the younger, more active elements of society went on the rampage and looted Tescos for pot noodles, which was a total waste of effort because the electric kettles no longer worked, thanks to smart-meter reliance on dodgy apps. Tuesday evening, after martial law and compulsory prayers, the county lines failed to supply recreational drugs to their app-driven client base, and hospitals were targeted to fill the gap in the market. Amusing video clips of the descent into chaos were not shared, not because of any sense of social responsibility but because Instagram was kaput. This added to the howling rage of the mob more than somewhat. Then, not long after the dogs began to disappear, the hunting of the weak began, and there was the smell of woodsmoke and bacon in the air. On a more positive note, a lot of overweight people slimmed down fast and learned new skills like shadow puppetry and crossbow production. And so it was that all those predictions how civilisation would end as the result of electro-magnetic-pulse attacks turned out to be wrong. There was no need to launch missiles, zap communications or fry every electronic circuit in the land. All it took was an old man with an orange face to start a pissing contest. The irony that the old man’s preferred means of communication was Twitter is not lost on me, but then I don’t need Google Maps to tell me that we’re all up shit creek without a paddle. And that, dear reader, is how come we all ended up on the Huawei to Hell.

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.

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

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