Mel's bedtime story

Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

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.

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06
Jun

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. Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

08
Sep

Martha Eve – Artist Focus

An up and coming artist like Martha is a rare gem. A young woman of 22, making waves in the acoustic scene, Martha Eve already has extensive experience in performing at festivals, including 2000 trees and Victorious Festival. Eve was a hit on the Jeeni sponsored People’s Lounge stage this year, part of the World Music Village sector of Victorious. The Arms Around The Child charity is responsible for the Village, their mission is to show love and care to children who have been diagnosed with HIV and aids. Martha’s newest outing ‘Cold’ is soulful and pure, her voice reminiscent of Scottish talent Nina Nesbitt’s earlier work. However she remains distinctly her own artist; with a heartbreaking chorus, ‘You feel cold to me, like an icy breeze, more bitter by the minute, soon you’ll be finished with me’, ‘Cold’ is a much more mature release than previous songs ‘Silly Mind’ and ‘Honeymoon Phase’. Eve states that ‘Cold’ is her most relatable song and that it is her ‘most honest and sad song’ to date. Born in South East London, Martha grew up in the countryside of nearby Kent, and can usually be found playing live shows in and around Brighton, honing her craft and winning over new fans all the time, with her calm yet sultry vocals that are not dissimilar to Jack Johnson. Martha is what’s becoming known as a ‘lockdown artist’, a creative person who has made the most of the recent pandemic by exploring their craft, and coming out the other end with a host of new ideas. In Martha’s case, although she couldn’t perform as she wanted, she wrote songs instead and is now ready to get releasing her wealth of creativity. Martha says she wrote ‘Cold’ about a lockdown romance, and didn’t expect it to become her first single, but at Jeeni, we’re sure our members will love her soulful and breathy vocals on the ballad. Listen to it HERE. Martha is releasing new music all the time, so make sure you keep an eye on Jeeni.com for an upcoming Jeeni exclusive interview with Martha Eve, where she will tell us all about her latest releases and future gigs. Here at Jeeni, we are so excited to welcome undiscovered artists just like Martha. Our platform breaks down the barrier between fan and artist to create a unique relationship and allows easy interaction. How does Jeeni support artists like Martha Eve? 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. · Join us at Jeeni.com

10
Jun

The Death of Letitia

Jeeni has returned 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. Jeeni raised £100K in 6 days and we're working hard to get more investors on board. 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! Black lives matter. Unless black lives feature in a videogame, in which case they don't matter a toss. I still remember the feeling of hope and despair when I played Daley Thompson's Decathlon for the first time. That was way back in the Olympic year of 1984, and it was a primitive sports simulation from Ocean software for a little home computer called the 48k Sinclair ZX Spectrum. Daley Thompson was an Olympic gold medal winner from Notting Hill. He had a fine body, and a great moustache, and according to his skin he was the son of his assassinated Nigerian dad. Anyway, I fired up the game and there on my glowing colour monitor was the pixilated figure of Daley, the great black athlete, running along a red cinder track. The thing was, the programmers had made him white. No, I couldn't believe it either. A huge crowd of spectators also appeared in the gameplay, and every one of them was as white as a Ku Klux Klan convention in a chalk pit. It's not as if no black characters ever appeared in videogames. Almost all the assassins, hoodlums, terrorists, monsters and mobsters were black, and their purpose was to be killed off willy nilly. Apart from Michael Jackson. He was the hero in a Sega videogame called Moonwalker and his role was to rescue kidnapped children and take them home. So there was nothing creepy about that, was there. Mind you, wee Michael was mostly as white in the game as he was in real life. For a real black and white issue from the early twenty-first century, I have revisited Ethnic Cleansing, developed by Resistance Records for PC desktop machines. That's the one where the white player gets sent off on a quest to murder blacks. It is equal opportunity racism, because you also score points for killing Latinos and Jews. And speaking of equal opportunities let's hear it for the computer character Letitia who appears in an update of Deus Ex, which is set in a cyberpunk future. Letitia lives on a rubbish dump, she is as horny as she is simple, and she speaks minstrel drivel in the sort of deep-South accent last heard in a Mel Brooks parody. You couldn't make it up. Except that's exactly what they did. And shame on you Mary DeMarle for writing it, Amanda Strawn for acting it, and Square Enix for publishing it. In the USA, over 70% of all African Americans play video games, but they make up less than 3% of game developers, which tells me quite a lot about the state of the play over there. This side of the pond, things are much better, where we have over 10% of people working in game development of a BAME demographic. That's a higher percentage than their number in the national working population, and way higher than in UK publishing, tv and music. This is good news, but it's where the good news ends. Last time I visited a major gaming studio in pre-lockdown, I did see several black faces. One was on security at street level, one was behind the reception desk, two were behind the counter in the canteen, and one was swilling out the bogs. The number of black and minority ethnic decision-makers in the UK computer gaming industry is shockingly low. As a result, race has lagged way behind gender and sexuality when it comes to stereotypes in gaming. Mainstream game designers tend not to question a norm, and they rarely rock the boat by refusing to carry out a questionable storyboard handed down to them by predominantly white hands from above. Most game designers I come across have less creative imagination than Rufus my Irish Setter, not to mention a much poorer sense of loyalty and the inability to lick their own genitalia. Video games have always followed movies in characterisation, and they are painfully stiff with stereotypes. Historically, lazy, myopic creatives have allocated blacks four roles - the violent black, the servile black, the sidekick black and the comedy black. I am removing sports games and music games from my list, since they exhibit no imagination whatsoever, but simply copy real people from the real world, unless you happen to be Daley Thompson or Michael Jackson, of course. The blame for all this lies squarely with the course leaders who purport to teach video game creation in universities and colleges. I have never met a creative course leader who is darker skinned than me, and I'm a sort of mottled puce. They may well instruct their students to bung in a character of the negro persuasion as if to fill some sort of racial minority quota, a bit like when those tv adverts suddenly started to feature blacks doing non-traditional things. Like working in building societies, and driving new cars. The change is coming through the independent video game creators, the so-called home-brew developers, and the change had begun in the UK way before the Black Lives Matter movement gathered such momentum. Creative change always comes from the mavericks and rarely from the corporates. As for the people who play the games, next time you come across a racial stereotype you know what to do. Take a knee. To the groin of the writer, programmer and publisher. The Death of Letitia, from Deus Ex: Human Revolution Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

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