My grandfather was killed by a rubbish truck.

Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

My grandfather was killed by a rubbish truck.

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!

One bright Autumn morning, my grandfather was killed by a rubbish truck. He got run over crossing the road on his regular walk to work. He was 84. And I am comforted to know that he loved his work as much as he loved his walk. As for me, I have yet to reach that ripe old age but I am still working most hours, most days. It's not so much that I love my work, more that I don't know what else to do. When I was younger, so much younger than today, I was promised a sci-fi world where all labour would be performed by robots, leaving us humans to enjoy a more meaningful existence. Before my grandfather was born, Karl Marx wrote that in a mechanised society workers would be freed from the monotony of work to “hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, criticise after dinner.” My grandfather certainly never saw such a sci-fi world or Marxist society, and I'm still waiting for it. But the way things are going I may not have to wait much longer for robots to take over the tedium of work.

Judging by their behaviour, I suspect that most telemarketers, receptionists, estate agents and bar tenders were replaced by robots ages ago. And for drivers, machine operators and manual workers, it can only be only a matter of time. The first robot aircraft pilot took to the skies then navigated flawlessly and landed safely way back in 1947. Robots have been successfully conducting complex heart surgery since 2004. Artificial intelligence has already reached the cognitive power of a nine year-old human, in which case it is qualified to run for President of the USA in November. But do we really need political leaders to tell us how best to fill our waking hours? If we can develop all these technological wonders then we should be smart enough to work it out for ourselves.

Our waking hours are dominated by work, whether we are in work or not. Strikers are depicted as troublemakers. Artists are depicted as idle. The poor are depicted as scroungers. The state cajoles the unemployed, the sick and the disabled to get off their arses and work. We are educated with the goal of work in mind, then having worked all our lives we are grudgingly handed back a mingy pension which we paid for in the first place. The idealised worker works in order to pay the childminder, the Deliveroo driver, the dog walker, the baker, the brewer, the app maker, because the idealised worker has no time left for such things. The idealised worker is too busy working to do any of these things for herself.

For huge numbers of us the significance of the old certainties of community, religion, politics, and even family, have all fallen away to be replaced by work. For huge numbers of us work is how we give our lives meaning, while at the same time work has become more precarious, more impersonal, more stressful, and the app-driven gig economy is a perfect example of this. Yet everybody knows that automation is already capable of doing most manual jobs of work, and now artificial intelligence is predicted as achieving the capability of taking over most desk-bound jobs too. Since the pandemic, the entire framework of work is falling apart.

But as a species we are not hardwired to work for a living. We never have been. We were lied to by those who said we must work, either to deserve a mythological afterlife, or protect an artificial realm, or for supposed honour, or someone else's glory, or for tokens of currency that can only be spent at the store owned by the company that issues those tokens in the first place. But of course all of those motivations are a con. And an obvious con at that.

So here's the thing. Now we have cheap reliable technology, let's get all the robots to do as much of the muscle work as they can, and let's get all the artificial intelligences to do as much of the brain work as they can. Then let's redistribute the remaining working hours evenly to we the people, and in return pay ourselves some of that fabricated stuff called money so we can buy good food and decent shelter. By my reckoning six hours a day, three days a week will do nicely to pick up the slack left by the robots. Work needn't be useless. Work includes child-rearing, caring for the elderly and protecting the vulnerable. It also includes growing food, dreaming up new businesses and fixing the tap. And work includes creating music and dance and poetry and streaming it on Jeeni.com. It is self-evident that all valid work is worth the same valid reward. This is not a Marxist idea, or even a socialist proposal. It's the Tories who bang on about work being such a good thing and everyone pulling their weight, and I completely agree with them. Margaret Thatcher, that champion of work culture, said, “The heresies of one period become the orthodoxies of the next.” Yes indeedy, so bring on the robots and the electronic brains. If work is such a good thing then let everyone have a go for a few hours a week for a universal payment. And don't worry about how the payment is distributed, the accounts have all been reckoned by computers for years.

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19
Jan

Artist Focus: Respite

This compelling five-piece formed from an amalgamation of previous bands, mindsets and connections and arose in 2020 as a formidable and commanding alt-rock/pop-punk force known newly as ‘Respite’. Respite joined forces with Jeeni earlier this year and since then, Jeeni has been hard at work trying to elevate, uplift and support this fantastic group by providing an ethical worldwide platform for their hard-hitting and refreshing craft. Respite is: Andrew Vaughan & Euan Macqueen as guitarists, Ross Crawford on the bass, Reiss Mcleod on the drums and Sam Nicholson on the vocals. Hailing from Glasgow, the group once known as ‘Finding Argyle’ committed to a brave yet necessary brand change as their sound and creative habits organically shifted and evolved over the major lockdown in 2020. The group formed as the five-piece they’re known as now back in 2015 as a result of recurring opportunities and coincidences and so, the band’s current synergy took shape as a perfect act of fate. Their days as ‘Finding Argyle’ were decidedly grittier with tracks like ‘Spit’ and ‘Love Like Violence’. Their newer form, ‘Respite’ made a subtle, yet noticeable adjustment in their tone. The lightheartedness was slightly increased as a result of the more melodic and pop-punk inspirations for writing choruses. Vocalist Sam Nicholson is the primary conveyor of their new-found catchiness, held mostly in the anthemic choruses that parade accross most of their spirited songs. The change in vocal style is at times, reminiscent of the much more pop influenced rock style of ‘Deaf Havana’. Although Respite generally embraces slightly less dark style of songwriting and performing, that doesn’t account for exceptions such as the deeply compelling and hard-hitting ‘Chemical Sleep’. The music video for which is simple, yet genius; contained in a cramped, red room, the group’s performance energy is barely contained and fills the space to the brim, matching the mood and vigor of the piece to a tee. Another noticeable and welcome advance in style came from the increased use of synthesis, thanks to guitarist, producer and mastering engineer, Andrew Vaughan. Sam Nicholson put it simply yet aptly that Vaughan is “quite the wunderkind”. On top of mixing and mastering the tracks, Andrew also manages all of the recordings for the group, effectively doing the work of about 6-10 people when compared to a standard studio set-up. Speaking of, the sound achieved from Respite really is that of a fully-fledged studio arrangement. Clear, concise and tight to a fault, the production and overall contribution from Vaughan is nothing other than remarkable. As a Glaswegian act, I was interested in the band’s opinion on how the impressive lineup of Scottish rock groups break the mould when compared to that of English or American rock efforts. After conferring with the other members, Sam told me that “I think there's something about the vocals which usually sets them apart, whether that is just the accent, or the way it hits the ear, it does stand out more often than not.” As obvious as it might sound that the iconic Scottish voice plays a major role in differentiating this specific Celtic brand of the same genre from others, it’s nevertheless a profound point that voices from different tribes will react with the ear in different ways. It implies a fascinating discussion about how different ethnicity's natural voices can induce different subconscious responses in listeners. Sam also voiced a tentative concern with lumping acts into the non-genre of Scottish rock and how it can at times be presumptuous, “I personally sometimes wonder if it's too easy to be lumped into "Scottish Rock" and then you're trapped there. It's a double-edged blade though, because, who wouldn't want their name next to bands like Biffy and Fatherson?” It certainly is an under-considered issue of generalising and connecting Scottish acts purely for being Scottish. It unintentionally strips individuality from these fantastic acts like Respite. Although, as Sam points out, it’s not exactly a bad thing to be mentioned among the greats of Scotland. A double-edged blade indeed. Careful not to mention something the group isn’t ready to divulge just yet, Sam did allude to the future of Respite, “We're currently planning our second EP after a great response to the new tracks, and we're hoping to follow that up with a tour of Scotland, and potentially head down south.” How can Jeeni support artists like Respite? 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 Respite’s Jeeni showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/respite-band/

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.

05
Jun

How to Apply To Play Music Festivals & Events Across the World

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