Meet The Curators Behind Spotify Playlists - the A and R Dictatorship

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Meet The Curators Behind Spotify Playlists - the A and R Dictatorship

Landing on an official curated Spotify playlist is for many artists a holy grail. To provide some insight, we hear from a Spotify editor about how they find the songs which eventually make the cut. Spotify seems to be the opposite of Jeeni, where the process is democratic and those artists that start trending are based on real votes, and whilst technology has moved on they are still in the dark ages where their music is still decided and dictated by A&R agents. And unlike Jeeni.com, with Spotify if they don't like the look of you, then you're not coming in!

Guest post from Spotify for Artists by Khalilia Douze

A Spotify editor explains how they discover songs to include in their curated lists.

Being added to a Spotify playlist remains the dream for most emerging artists, as it exposes their work to some of the most-clicked on playlists in the world. But for many musicians and their teams, the behind-the-scenes process still feels shrouded in mystery. While there’s no formula for scoring a coveted slot on Pollen or RapCaviar, there is rhyme and reason to how the massive team of editors curate tracks. We spoke with one Spotify staffer, who helps oversee R&B playlists such as the genre flagship Are & Be, The Newness, Soul Coffee, Soul Lounge the Black Lives Matter playlist and more, to learn about their process and tips on how musicians can stand out when pitching unreleased music through Spotify for Artists.

Spotify for Artists: What strategies do you use to curate playlists?

The strategy is based on the playlist itself. Each has its own hypothesis, theme, or audience that we’re thinking about. If it’s one of the genre-specific playlists, like Are & Be, that’s the home for the current, biggest songs in that space. The Newness is new releases or developing artists. Chilled R&B, Soul Coffee, those playlists have a mix of current and some legacy and catalog artists. It really all depends on what the goal of the specific playlist is.

What are you listening for when you’re curating?

I’m listening for lyrics. I’m listening for melody. A lot depends on the playlist itself, and sometimes that’s the filter that I have. When I’m listening, [I’m like] Oh, this song would do good in this playlist or, This song could fit here for this moment. A lot of it is based on the audience. You have the specific genres, but then there’s a lot of cases where those lines are blurred. The instrumentation and the beat can determine an audience, so [we think about] where we believe the audience is for that particular song.

Does song length play a role in how you’re curating?

It depends on the playlist. Soul Coffee is more of a relaxing [vibe]. In our minds, that’s one of those where you would just get up in the morning and that’s what you throw on while you’re getting ready, eating breakfast, or reading a book on Sunday. I know that the people will just have it on, so that playlist has a longer time spent listening as opposed to the flagship, Are & Be, and The Newness. For The Newness, when people are listening to that or one where it’s developing artists and new releases, that’s more about discovery. People may not spend a lot of time listening to that playlist—it’s about skimming and seeing what’s out.

Can you walk me through how you use the submission tool to discover music?

Labels pitch to us every week. We’re able to get their submissions through there, but they also communicate with our Artist Label Partnership team. We’ll talk to them [about] what their plan is for their priorities.

There’s a ton of music—it’s countless. That’s pretty much the majority of Mondays and Tuesdays, listening to the pitches that come in for that week. It goes to our whole team. We listen to everything. The rest of the week is updating the playlists and finding the space for them, reviewing what songs are already in the playlist, looking at the performance, and things like that.

When it comes to tags in the submission form, what advice do you have?

People should be as specific as possible and fill out every single thing to make sure it goes to the right people. Different editors might have different filters to differentiate. I’m listening for if it’s a cool song first and foremost, but past my opinion of it, do I know if there’s a home for it? It’s about being able to find it and [seeing] where it can fit. I’ve seen entries where it would literally just be the artist name and their title—that’s how it gets lost in the abyss. We’re not omnipotent, so we don’t know what we don’t know.

Are there any rules about how many times an artist can be playlisted?

No. Every curator is different and has [their] own philosophy on what songs are in a playlist. There’s no concrete rule.

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05
Jun

Live Life Fully and Mindfully — Things Change Quickly

by Kelli Richards Jeeni MD USA Most of us coast along in life day-to-day, and we don’t always think and act mindfully in the moment. There are many reasons why it’s important to practice doing so most of the time, but perhaps the biggest one is that things change quickly in life — and often unexpectedly. When you’re mindful, you have fewer regrets when they do. Here are a couple of examples that have happened to me recently. Many of you are aware that I’ve been in the music/tech space as a veteran for most of my career, since the dawn of the digital music revolution. I’m proud not only of having been a pioneer steeped in co-creating many of the key milestones that have impacted the evolution along the way, BUT also in having shared those experiences with a cadre of cherished colleagues alongside — many of them for over 25 years now. One off those fellow visionaries was Jay Frank. Jay was instrumental in envisioning the future of streaming driven by user-influenced playlists years before that took off. Feel free to review more about Jay in this obituary on Billboard. He was only 47 when he passed of cancer; he hadn’t told many of us about it — and his loss was a real shock. He certainly accomplished a lot in his years on the planet and left a lasting and palpable legacy. I hadn’t been in as active touch with him during the past couple of years, which I regret, but he knew how much I respected him. I’m proud to be on the advisory council of Harvest Summit, an annual ‘field trip’ gathering of successful high achievers from different industries who come together in wine country to embrace innovation. Each year we feature a powerful keynote speaker to wrap up the event, and at this year’s event just a few weeks ago in mid-October we were fortunate enough to have Bernard Tyson join us. Bernard was the beloved CEO of Kaiser Permanente, the huge healthcare system, and he was responsible for creating some of Kaiser’s most progressive and innovative efforts during his nearly three decades with the company. He was someone who made a real impact & a lasting legacy. At Harvest Summit he was inspiring and infectious. And when I approached him afterwards, we had a brief chat and he was very warm and gracious. Just a few weeks later, Bernard passed suddenly at 60. His wife is a colleague of mine, and I’d heard about how wonderful he was for quite some time. I was so pleased I had the opportunity to connect with him and got to experience his presence firsthand. Finally, I’m enamored of wine country and Sonoma County at large; so much so that I intend to re-locate there in the coming years. I’ve built a large community of people I care about greatly in that region. Two years ago, over 5000 homes were lost to the devastating Tubbs Fire there. The week after I was at Harvest Summit in mid-October — right in that same location — the unthinkable happened in that the Kincade Fire took off like crazy with flames fanned by strong Santa Ana-like winds in that same general region causing widespread evacuation, power outages and unrest in that same region for over a week. Some homes were lost again, but owing to the brave firefighters who were determined to save lives and properties (and with some support from winds dying down), the fire was brought under control at last. This has all reinforced for me just how important it is to be prepared for natural disasters — I’ll be putting together an emergency “go bag/kit” shortly as a result. I guess in summary, the common thread here is that’s important to be present and mindful in all our interactions with others, and not take anyone or anything for granted. Because life is truly fragile, and what we’re privileged to enjoy today could be taken away without warning tomorrow. Be here now. 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

23
Feb

A Legendary NME Journo, his New Book and Other Tales

About to release his third book, a novel entitled 'The Unstable Boys', legendary NME journo Nick Kent, is interviewed by his stable-mate, Kevin EG Perry about his new book and other tales from his extraordinary career. The Unstable Boys - Nick Kent's new novel Nick Kent started writing for NME in 1972, which was a good year to be a rock’n’roll writer. And no writer in Britain was more rock’n’roll than Kent, who was soon as notorious for wearing a perpetually ripped pair of leather trousers and dating Chrissie Hynde as he was for writing novelistic profiles of enigmatic figures such as Syd Barrett and Lou Reed. Even now, almost half a century on, stories of Kent’s escapades and expenses-claims get passed down like lore at NME. There’s a good one about the time he flew to LA to profile Jethro Tull in 1975 and somehow wound up on a bender with Iggy Pop. Holed up in the Continental Hyatt House hotel on Sunset Boulevard, they hit upon the cunning wheeze of telling visiting drug dealers that they could help themselves to whatever they wanted from the luxury shops in the lobby and charge it to Kent’s room – leaving poor old Jethro Tull to pick up the tab. Truly, a grift for the ages. NIck Kent - Legendary NME Journalist Kent published the best of his collected rock writing in 1994 as The Dark Stuff and followed that essential tome in 2010 with his ‘70s memoir Apathy For The Devil. He’s just published his third book – his first novel – The Unstable Boys, which concerns the unhinged frontman of a mostly-forgotten ‘60s band appearing on the doorstop of his biggest fan after many years in obscurity. Over a video call from his home in Paris, Kent – 69 and just as louche as ever – discussed the book’s origins and held court about a life spent at the unforgiving coalface of rock’n’roll. On his no-fucks-given style Things weren’t looking good for NME when Kent first slouched through its doors in ‘72. Sales were so bad that the editors had been given just 12 issues to save the magazine. They hired Kent and other new writers such as Charles Shaar Murray and Ian MacDonald from the alternative press. The magazine then saw a huge jump in sales – but not for the reason Kent wanted to believe. “The assistant editor Nick Logan called me into his office at the end of the year and said, ‘Well, we’ve got great news – we’re outselling the Melody Maker’, which was a big deal at the time,’” remembers Kent. “He said: ‘In fact, we’re the biggest selling music weekly in the world!’ Pats on the back all round! I was standing there thinking he was gonna say: ‘It’s all you, Murray and MacDonald, you wonderful, beautiful people!’ “Not at all. He said: ‘We’ve done a survey of new readers to ask them why they buy the thing. They don’t buy it for the articles. They don’t read the articles, except for the quotes. They might look for a David Bowie quote, but they’re not interested in what the writers are writing. The only thing they actually read is the gossip column on the last page.’ What they really wanted to know was: What did Bowie’s latest haircut look like? And were Led Zeppelin playing a gig near where they lived? “After I picked my wounded ego up off the floor, I came to the very quick conclusion that I was writing for an audience with an extremely short attention span. I realised I had to go to extremes, because I would not be ignored! 300,000 people were buying the NME and the idiots weren’t reading it! That affected the way I wrote. You’ve got to grab them with the first sentence and say: ‘The action starts here’ you cannot not read this.’ I’m living proof that going to extremes gets results. The problem is that they may not be the exact results that you set out to attain.” Access all areas Kent went to extremes on the page and off it, where he found that the road of excess led not to the palace of wisdom but to a debilitating heroin addiction. His best work included an epic feature about the tortured genius of Brian Wilson, which ran to 10,000 words and was published across three issues of NME. He was also granted unprecedented access to a Rolling Stones tour and wrote memorably about the strange, distant atmosphere backstage and the darkness lurking in Jagger and Richards’ “numb, burned-out cool”. “There’s this whole idea that the writers of that time were the reason why the NME was so successful,” he says, “and that’s partly true, but the main reason was that we had more access back then to Bowie, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and the other big names of the ‘70s. There was a kind of give-and-take there, and I was lucky enough to get into that.” That time he was a Sex Pistol Kent first met punk impresario Malcolm McLaren in December 1973, when he went to France to interview the New York Dolls and found McLaren among their entourage. The pair became close and regularly dined together – along with their partners, Vivienne Westwood and Hynde – at what the writer describes “the only Indian restaurant in Clapham South”. When McLaren sacked guitarist Wally Nightingale from an early line-up of The Sex Pistols because he didn’t think he fit the band’s look, he asked Kent to replace him. Kent spent three months playing with guitarist Steve Jones and drummer Paul Cook, but says he never quite matched the Sex Pistol temperament. “What I learned from playing with The Sex Pistols was that there’s a big difference between a middle-class guitar player and a working-class guitar player,” says Kent. “For a working-class guitar player, it’s all about repetition. It’s like that Johnny Ramone thing of playing the same chords over and over again. If you’re a guy like me, I’ll play a three chord riff like ‘Louie Louie’ for a minute but then I’ll get bored and throw something a bit jazzy in, and immediately that’s like going into Radiohead-land! My Sex Pistols experience taught me that I’m a middle-class guitar player.” On the rocker who reminds him Trump Kent’s new novel The Unstable Boys centres around the titular band’s grotesque, narcissistic frontman, known as ‘The Boy’. Given his abrasive personality traits, it’s no surprise that The Boy idolises Donald Trump – and Kent says he noticed plenty of parallels between the former President and some of the more self-absorbed rock stars he’s encountered over the years. “The rock star that really reminded me of Trump is Axl Rose,” says Kent. “I went out to America in 1991 at the height of Guns N’ Roses mania. They were the biggest group in America at that time. At almost every gig they played there would be a riot. Axl would usually be late, and then he’d come on stage and spend 10 minutes putting down whatever celebrity had said something in the press about him. I saw him once put down Warren Beatty because Warren Beatty had dated his girlfriend. “We got 10 minutes of: ‘What an arsehole!’ He was using the stage as a forum for his own narcissistic shit fits, just like Trump. At least Axl Rose could perform and could sing well, whereas Trump has neither talent. He doesn’t have any talent! He’s the ultimate huckster.” And the horror story behind The Unstable Boys In The Unstable Boys, things take a turn for the worse when ‘The Boy’ turns up at the home of a wealthy crime writer who also happens to be his band’s biggest fan. Kent says he was inspired by a real tale involving the British rock’n’roller Vince Taylor, who sang the 1959 hit ‘Brand New Cadillac’. “He was one of the best early British rock singers – one of the only ones, actually,” says Kent. “He’s probably best-known now because he became the inspiration for Ziggy Stardust. Bowie had met him in the ‘60s and became fascinated by him. By the ‘70s, Taylor had gone from bad to worse and he was basically penniless. He would just turn up on the doorsteps of people that he imagined were fans of his. He turned up on the doorstep of his fan club president in Switzerland and of course the guy invited him in – this was his hero! Things didn’t go well. Before long his wife left him, his dog disappeared and his pub burnt down." Kent adds that he’s been working on the novel in some form or another since his wife Laurence first told him Taylor’s story back in 1990, so he’s delighted to finally see the story in print three decades on. “When I’d finished it, for about two or three hours afterwards I felt really, really good,” says Kent. “High in a way that eclipsed all the drug highs I’ve ever had.” – Nick Kent’s The Unstable Boys is out now via Constable www.jeeni.com www.nme.com

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