Mel's bedtime story

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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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17
Dec

Weekly Round-Up # 6

The latest news on all things Jeeni, music and entertainment. BRITs Rising Star Award, 2022 Announced: Last time on Weekly Round-Up, we spoke about the three female stars nominated for the ‘2022 Rising Star’. Lola Young, Bree Runway and Holly Humberstone were all up for the chance to earn the prestigious honour. Last Thursday, much to her disbelief, 2019 ‘BRIT Rising Star’ winner, Sam Fender personally handed Holly Humberstone her well-deserved trophy during a recording session together. Humberstone couldn’t quite believe her achievement at first and had to be reassured several times by Fender, “That is yours, that is definitely yours, you’ve won it!” he clarified. Holly was still looking around to the surrounding BRITs crew, caught off-guard, “There’s loads of cameras on me, how am I supposed to react?” she laughed. “It just doesn’t feel real. This year has been a wild ride and a year of firsts, and I am so grateful and thankful for everyone who has helped make this happen!” Holly is also the first confirmed performer for the 2022 BRITs awards, taking place at the O2 Arena on Tuesday, the 8th of February. Rising Cases of the Omicron Cases not Currently Risking Future Plans for Live Music: An overshadowing feeling has been hovering over the heads of live music fans lately, which feels all too alike to the same sensation from mid 2020 when our light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel plans were slowly but surely getting postponed one-by-one. Everyone however, not just music fans are keeping their ears to the ground for any information about the newest variant of concern, Omicron. One or two gigs have been cancelled recently so if you're an artist, make sure you check that your gig can still go ahead and for music fans, keep your ears open for news around gigs you're going to. Some good news; The UK’s, Health and Social Care Secretary, Sajid Javid said that “A record 548,039 booster vaccines were administered yesterday as we ramp up our vaccination programme and bolster our defences against the virus.” (Referring to Tuesday, the 14th). However, in the US, experts predict a ‘perfect storm’ this Winter as Omicron, Delta and seasonal flu will create a pandemic trifecta that will overwhelm hospitals. Details are currently unconfirmed about the transmissibility, and severity of symptoms from the Omicron virus and so many are still holding their breath for their future plans such as gigs, festivals and holidays. So far, they are largely untouched, it’s just difficult to say for how long. Top Albums of the Year Lists Released: Each year, every major music publication curates their own summary of the past year of music with a carefully positioned list of the ‘best albums’ the year had to offer. December tends to be a good time to release such lists as this is when releases tend to dry up, slow down and recharge for the new year. In the world of hip-hop, Grisleda’s Mach-Hommy appeared on lists like CRACK, Esquire, Pitchfork, Paste and Fader for his gritty, truth-telling record, ‘Pray For Haiti’. Tyler, The Creator featured on much of the same lists for his 'IGOR' follow-up ‘Call Me If You Get Lost’ as well as hitting number 4 on Rolling Stone’s list. Madlib’s Four Tet-arranged record, ‘Sound Ancestors’ also made a splash on the lists considering its nature as a hip-hop instrumental album. Perhaps unfairly but not surprisingly, Kanye’s ‘Donda’ was certainly a rare occurrence on the lists. ‘Promises’, the mesmerising collaboration with Floating Points and John Coltrane partner, Pharoah Sanders justifyably made a lasting impression with the majority of publications for its ground-breaking achievements in structuring, genre-blurring and pure emotion provoking. Reaching number 1 on Paste and 4 on Pitchfork, the time-altering project certainly got the respect it deserved. Jazmine Sullivan’s ‘Heaux Tales’ made a massive impression on publications, finding its way on the top ten list of Rolling Stone and Fader and becoming the champion top spot of Pitchfork and Vulture’s lists. The album was an RnB empowerment for women, everywhere and resonated with many a music critic this year. These lists often conjoin to form very similar and topical elections for the best of what the year had to offer, however, the lists are such a great tool to pan for gold and find those precious, hidden gems that make their way on the lists. This year, amongst the gems hid albums like ‘Daddy’s Home’ by St. Vincent, Squid’s ‘Bright Green Field’ and ‘Cavalcade’ by black midi, however many more obscure features on these lists are still waiting to be explored fully. Jeeni News: New Artists Join Jeeni’s Mission: This week, we introduced three new, exciting artists; Lennox Campbell (aka Biggz Manifest), Giack Bazz and Khole Baldeo. We can’t wait to see what they do next and what we can do for their blossoming careers! New blogs on Jeeni’s newest artists: Earlier this week, we featured four new Jeeni artists as a part of our Artist Focus blog series; the South-coast soulstress, Amba Tremain, pop-funk trio, Barbudo, indie experimentalist, Giack Bazz and Portsmouth rapper, Baby Panna. We also released reviews of Amba Tremain’s ‘Baby You’re Gold’ single, Giack Bazz’s ‘Childhood Dream’ album and DarkStarGraver’s ‘Gohan’ single. Check out the showcases of these excellent artists: DarkStarGraver: https://jeeni.com/showcase/darkstargraver Giack Bazz: https://jeeni.com/showcase/giack-bazz Lennox Campbell: https://jeeni.com/?s=lennox+campbell Amba Tremain: https://jeeni.com/showcase/amba-tremain Barbudo: https://jeeni.com/showcase/barbudo Baby Panna: https://jeeni.com/showcase/baby-panna Khole Baldeo: https://jeeni.com/?s=khole+baldeo

05
Jun

Why In-Person Connections Matter More Than Ever

by Kelli Richards, Jeeni MD USA People call me a ‘super-connector’; I literally make my living connecting people and opportunities to each other and I have a very broad and deep network that I’ve built over many years of establishing long-term trusted relationships. Many of these relationships were developed the old-fashioned way, by having ‘live’ conversations of substance in person or over the phone over time. That said, we live in a fragmented world where more and more we connect through devices and technology (whether via text messaging on our phones, e-mail over the Internet or via Zoom conference calls online). While these technologies are arguably convenient and time-saving, something has gotten lost in translation. Look around whenever you’re out in public, and the vast majority of people have their faces buried in their smartphones or in their laptops. This applies regardless of age, gender, or any other consideration. One of the saddest (but most prolific) examples is when a couple are out having a meal together but each has their face buried in their own device, and are in their own worlds. At a minimum, this type of behavior certainly seems to push intimacy away and can lead to undesirable outcomes because people have stopped looking at each other and engaging in active conversation. The film producer Brian Grazer has just published his new book entitled “Face to Face: The Art of Human Connection”, and of course I love it. In the book, Brian argues that one of the secrets to a better life lies in establishing personal real-time connection (like we all used to indulge in before we had access to these devices). He argues that burying ourselves in our individual devices destroys an essential facet of the human experience we can only get when we look at someone face-to-face and engage in a real conversation. When we do so, and look into each other’s eyes, we form strong connections and bonds with each other, we understand each other better, we expand our world views, and we create memorable meaningful moments that can lead to a range of possibilities. When we connect and understand each other, we become interested in what matters to one another and that leads to wanting to support and add value to each other’s lives. This is what truly matters folks. No matter how convenient our technology and devices are or become, the bottom line is that trusted relationships rule the world — and that applies both personally and professionally across the board. So, I strongly urge you to reach out and make time to connect with people face-to-face more often. Seek to understand others, pay attention and invest genuine time in getting to know what matters to them so you can figure out how you can add value to them and help them to achieve their goals. Be yourself, more uncensored — drop your masks and be authentic, the kind of person you want others to know and respect. Show up fully as yourself, vulnerable and caring, which encourages others to do the same. And as you do so, watch what happens as your relationships shift and evolve. I’m willing to bet your life will improve and create a ripple effect that impacts the lives of others around you as well. 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

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