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Naëve on Music, Performing and Life during 2020

/ By Shena Mitchell
Naëve on Music, Performing and Life during 2020

Having described herself as an outcast in life and the music world we ask Naëve what have been the key challenges and new opportunities and ventures that would have never otherwise have been possible. We asked her to tell us about her experiences over the last year whilst we count down to Jeeni’s online JAM festival. 

Naëve is a project born at the beginning of 2019 as a rebellion against all rules and constrictions that keeps us into our ‘tiny given little boxes’ since birth. As for the film ‘Big  Fish’, my fishbowl started to feel a little too tight, I needed a bigger one for myself. Labelling and categorising everything, has always been something I refused to comply to since I remember. 

I’ve always been an outcast, in life and in the music I write and for this, I haven’t been  always understood. 

Felt horrible for a while but, in time, I got that people use to fear what they do not understand, they fear change and what is new so, I made sure to be clearer and clearer for them in time. To my surprise, more and more people started to get closer.  I decided to keep the influences and ditch the genres, even following an emotional and logical tie to every single one of the genres that I rework in my music.  This brand new fusion sub-genre that I would call ‘Retro Groove’, is based pretty much on writing what comes to mind, binding the genres together and following simple melodic similarities. With what concerns lyrics writing, instrumentals is what inspires me. I believe that music in general, is an identification of feelings, emotions that often differ very distinctively from each other, other times, instead, they layer up so, when I write lyrics, I  first listen carefully to the musical part, until it makes me feel something or leads right back to specific memories. Then I write about that. Because I never pretend to be the Diva that I am not, what you find in my songs is exactly what I would say to you if I ever meet you in person. No filters, no beating around the bush, pretty much "what you see (or hear)  is what you get". 

I am at a point in my life that I genuinely don’t care about what others may think or if I say something in a way, I may offend someone. I’m living my freedom happily and this, I  believe, is why I can write my songs in ways that have never been done before. I’m not the kind of person sugarcoating thoughts or happening, I try to make them feel sweeter and more bearable because, all in all, life is never like the cover of VOGUE. Also, more often than not, real heroes are the ones who are left unsung. I will sing and about them. I will celebrate them. 

Even before my first release, the project caught the attention of several labels. Despite lockdown restrictions, I have already signed a record deal with an international indie label,  been proposed other two record deals and two publishing deals and received very much support from Blogs, pluggers, radios and so on. My fan base has started to grow steadily and I cannot be happier.  

For the ‘big sound’ you can hear in my songs, you might think that a whole orchestra or something of the sort has been recorded in it. Truth is, that I work together with an 

incredibly talented producer (and boy, oh boy if I am picky with producers) that manages  everytime to get in my head and help developing the initial idea according to the inputs,  lines and melodies I give to him. 

For that very reason, I thought to be a good idea to involve a basic big band, usually, because big bands are pretty big so, I needed to recreate that studio sound live but without exceeding the number of players on stage. We are 11. 

One of my unreleased songs has even got us into the Yamaha Boogie & Blues future stars competition finals, that was our very first live gig with this project, then the World shut down, exactly two days before the finals. 

That was scary, a new born project could have collapsed at any time. 

When a project is that new, without the chance of playing live shows, it becomes very  difficult to grow a proper fanbase. 

‘Joy’, my first single release, has been extremely risky to put out. The willingness for people to change is always extremely hard to achieve and I was very concerned about that. 

I’m saying this because ‘Joy’ is a Gospel song, a genre that has always mostly been kept within Church doors. I took a leap of faith and... It worked. Many brothers and sisters from  Evangelic Communities around the World started to show their curiosity and support and it absolutely felt like winning the Euro Million!! 

The idea before ‘Joy’ was something between the lines: ‘Wow, Gospel music is such beautiful uplifting music of hope, let’s bring it to everyone. That was the reason behind this song. 

Thinking about it now, I feel very happy about how everything is progressing, mainly seeing how much interest people are having in my music. 

I decided to continue to write during the lockdown and between them, when was possible and safe to go recording, I decided to continue and work about the messages that I want to pass to my supporters and so ‘L.A.M.E.’ was born. 

Feminism is quite present in my work and more than ever is a concept, a way of life that needs to be supported today. Sometimes, I really believe that there has been a strong regression regarding how women are perceived in society and in the Music Industry. It seems, somehow, that very often women are seen as something that has to be used, not cherished. Thanks also to my upbringing (and to Madonna’s music), I understood that my value is decided by me, not everybody else and nevertheless by men (I don’t hate you, fellas, calm down) and that my life belongs to me and me only, I’m the only one who calls the shots end of story. 

So, L.A.M.E. was born after a date gone wrong. The kind of date that starts well and ends terribly wrong...you know the feeling. That ended wrong because sometimes, when people can’t get what they want, they can be incredibly mean and they aim to target your self-esteem attempting to decrease your value. I didn’t let him. I wrote a song about the whole story.

It’s an empowering song, for all women who have ever felt ‘not enough in their relationships, psychologically manipulated by ‘supposedly’ their better half. Sometimes,  people take advantage of our vulnerability to enforce their beliefs, it never ends well. 

The message that I would give is that you only know your value, don’t let anyone get to you, you are much more than that!! 

You can go out without makeup, without expensive clothes or cars, villas, a tan or a size 6  and a DD cup, because when you smile, all of a sudden the world stops. That is your strength as a woman and your beauty. You decide for your life, your happiness and yourself. 

Being very open-minded, I learned to know people at their true value and not the label been given to them and also, I can’t stand injustice of any kind. I want to channel this empowering message also to the LGBTQ+ Community.  

The reason behind that is that I have always been surrounded by friends from the  Community and some of them are among my best friends ever so, indirectly, I lived their struggle through them on how people are perceived in society.  

Is embarrassing how, still in 2021, we cannot still be understanding enough to leave people the freedom to live a happy life while feeling comfortable and loved in their own skin. 

Then the idea for the video of L.A.M.E. was born. I’ve been lucky enough to cast two incredible actors from the Community that are very successful artists, then the idea to interchange roles and to show that there is not fear in beauty and that doesn’t matter what  ‘form’ you get, your true beauty always shines. Another risky project, that bore the fruits I  was hoping for and here we are.  

The video has been watched more than 6k times within 4 months time (thanks to this platform as well as Youtube and Vevo) and liked/voted more than 3k times so, really glad with the results. 

From the live side, during the lockdown, I had the opportunity to collaborate with Hot Vox in support of War Child UK and I was very honoured to be part of this crowdfunding campaign, as it helped to raise money for children and their families hit by war all over the  World. 

I believe there will be more of these charity events for Naëve once it will be safe again to  play live. 

The collaboration with Hot Vox continued with an online ‘Listening party’ that will be  available to watch from the 21st of April from this link

https://hotvox.co.uk/event/naeve-listening-party/

Plus a funny interview I did for them so, I believe is something you really want to watch.

You know, when life gives you lemons..... 

I started to learn to play other instruments during the lockdown as well and I am quite a  confident player now. 

Also, I will be shortly in the studio for my 3rd official release, so, I will be in ‘planning mode’  for a while plus, a brand new music video and after, the tour.  

The very first tour for Naëve since the project was born so, pretty excited and feeling  blessed for what is coming.

Naëve will also be performing in the JAM festival which is a collaboration between Jeeni, AmplifyX and MultiView Media and will be held at 12 noon Los Angeles time, 8pm London time on Saturday, April 10th 2021. To find out more about the JAM Festival check out our events on Facebook. https://fb.me/e/1etPauFMV

02
Dec

Jeeni Offers Two Ways of Becoming a Jeenius to Suit Your Needs.

Depending on whether you’re an artist or a viewer, Jeeni has introduced more options of signing on, to suit your needs.  For our viewers, we have a huge range of features to make it as easy and ethical as possible to follow and support a massive roster of exciting and upcoming artists. And it’s absolutely free to sign up!   Jeeni allows anyone and everyone to create and share playlists of new artists from hundreds of different channels and genres from Afro to Zydeco. Enjoy uninterrupted, ad-free surfing and discovering with live sessions, exclusive gigs and masterclasses from award winning superstars. Simply make your free account and get going!  Discover fresh, unique artists that you’d otherwise never come across, share your discoveries with friends on social media and spread the word of Jeeni.  If you’re an artist, we offer an extensive and supportive promotion service, with ethics and respect in mind. For just $10 a month, Jeeni artists receive their own dedicated commercial showcase and personal Jeeni email address as well as a direct platform and publicity service to their fans and entire Jeeni audience.   Jeeni also provides a professional artist marketing suite with full analytics and reports so that you can track and manage how you’re received by your audience. Artists also receive automatic eligibility for Jeeni festivals and awards as well as access to Jeeni’s helpdesk service.  And we haven’t even got to the best part yet; Jeeni artists keep 100% of all sales income, 100% of all of their donations and have complete control over their creative rights!   Jeeni is first and foremost about the support and ethical treatment of artists as opposed to streaming services such as Spotify.  Find out more about your Jeeni viewer membership here: https://jeeni.com/setnjsazwems/ Find out more about your Jeeni artist membership here: https://jeeni.com/93oavw85jjhe/ Join Jeeni today and become a Jeenius! 

10
Jun

A Kiss from a Rose – Why the Rose is such a powerful symbol in the arts. By Sammie Venn.

Here at Jeeni.com we celebrate and support all musicians and performers, and poetry has its own dedicated channel for artists and performers to showcase their work and earn 100% of their sales, ticketing, merchandise and donations. Last week Jeeni returned to Crowdcube to raise more funds for helping new talent. We have been very encouraged with the positive response as we reached our target in just 6 days and now overfunding If you want to see our pitch click HERE. Today we showcase Sammie Venn as a very talented and creative writer. The Rose has long been considered a symbol of the divine feminine; when my daughter and I moved to our home in East Sussex a few years ago we bought a “Coeur Rose”, a “Love Rose”, in hope that it would manifest exactly that. Consequently it has never flowered when it should, in fact it has blossomed during the oddest of times, throughout harsh frosty winters as well as scorching hot summers. I even found two perfectly formed flowers one New Year’s eve under a dusting of snow. Suffice to say I see it as a strong and firmly rooted plant that can spring to life in the most adverse conditions, In Tarot a rose is seen as a symbol of balance, it expresses new beginnings, hope and promise. I see our magical plant as something that has stood the test of time. It is full of boundless wisdom and copious richness, whilst her petals answer my prayers the thorns protect the splendour it bestows. So why is the rose such a powerful motif in the arts? It appears as a mark of love, beauty and virtue within every creative genre. It is a recurring theme in ancient literature and features in the greatest love poems of our time. Christina Rossetti, William Blake, J.B. Yeats, Dorothy Parker, Rumi, Charles Bukowski all herald the rose in their prose as nature’s metaphorical flower of Love. Roses have symbolised God at work, the scent has been aligned to that of an angel and the Virgin Mary has also been called the “mystic rose”, “the rose without thorns”. Clearly its power as a plant is multifarious, from religious connotations to passionate exchanges, sincere friendship and spiritual holiness, the rose can mirror any human sentiment. The Ancient Greeks and Romans associated roses with Aphrodite and Venus, the Goddess of Love. However they have also been used to communicate messages without words. It is not just Love that the rose represents but also confidentiality. The Latin term “sub rosa” translates as “under the rose” referring to the notion that something is told in secret. When a confidential matter was debated behind closed doors in Rome, the wild flower was placed outside to indicate that a private matter was being discussed. It is not just literature that celebrates the rose, singer-song writers have immortalised the exquisite flower in their lyrics for centuries. Without doubt it is an iconic plant and holds a plethora of meanings depending on its colour. A crimson flower is for lovers, it signifies enduring and life-long passion. The velvety petals of a lilac bloom represent enchantment and love at first sight. A white rose reflects humility and innocence whilst a yellow bud expresses friendship and joy. Stems with pink flowers can be given to express gratitude, appreciation and admiration whilst those with an orange hue can portray enthusiasm and desire. Every mortal emotion can be aligned to this beautiful woody perennial. There are over 300 species and tens of thousands of cultivars, whether they are trailing, climbing or standing tall as shrubs, the rose comes armed with prickles and thorns making them strangely more beautiful in many ways. Leigh Bardugo in “The Language of Thorns” wrote that “Love speaks in flowers. Truth requires thorns”. This seems like a perfect metaphor for the life we live. From Bette Midler to Janis Joplin, form Poison to Westlife, the rose has featured as a powerful overture in many songs and genres. It has been idolised for both its natural beauty as well as its harsher, darker side.  Seal’s “Kiss from a Rose”  was released in 1994 and again in 1995 when it appeared in the film “Batman Forever”. 25 years later it’s still a song that sends shivers down my spine, I can even hear it loud and clear in my head as I’m writing this article. But it’s the lyrics of Bette Midler that resonate like a thunder bolt to the heart. Harmony is not always achieved when everyone sings the same note. It is what lies between these musical tones that produces accord. The rhythm and rhyme that they ensue creates a melody that dances to its own beat and this verse from Midler’s “The Rose” does exactly that. The lyrics are haunting, rich, joyful, romantic, wild and intoxicating, just like the rose itself. “When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too longAnd you think that love is only for the lucky and the strongJust remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snowsLies the seed, that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose”. Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

06
Jun

Jeeni - the ethical alternative in streaming services, where artists can make a living.

This article by Andy Cush shows why Jeeni is needed more than ever. Jeeni.com is a streaming global platform where musicians and performers keep 100% of their sales, merchandise, tickets, donations and payments. No rip-offs, no fakes, no hype, no ads. Jeeni is the ethical alternative and will provide musicians and performers with a streaming platform where they can really make a living. How Musicians Are Fighting for Streaming Pay During the Pandemic. By Andy Cush With concerts on hold, it’s abundantly clear that most musicians can’t live off streaming income alone. How could the system be fixed? Indie rockers Stolen Jars are not exactly Coldplay or U2, but they’re not a garage band either. They tour regularly and have been covered by NPR and The New York Times. They have a fanbase. They’ve placed one of their off-kilter songs in an iPad commercial. They currently have more than 22,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. Bandleader Cody Fitzgerald estimates he makes about $1,500 to $2,000 every year from streaming services, which is good for about a month’s rent on his New York apartment. That annual streaming income, Fitzgerald is quick to note, is quite high for bands of Stolen Jars’ stature. “Most people are on labels, which means they get, at most, 50 percent of that,” he says. Fitzgerald self-releases Stolen Jars’ albums. He is also the band’s primary songwriter and performs many of the instruments on the recordings himself, all of which entitles him to an unusually large share of the total payments from services like Spotify and Apple Music. Musicians with different label and publishing situations—even those whose music is more popular—may make significantly less. Tasmin Little, a celebrated classical violinist based in the UK, has received honors including a Classic BRIT award and an Order of the British Empire designation from Queen Elizabeth. She has more than 600,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and her recordings are featured on popular playlists like Classical Essentials, which has 1.9 million followers. Little tweeted last month that she was recently paid £12.34, or around $15.50, for six months of streaming on Spotify, a period in which she would have had over 3.5 million total streams, according to her current statistics. When the coronavirus pandemic shut down the possibility of touring for the foreseeable future, cash-strapped musicians lost their most reliable way to make money. Revenue from streaming has always been small for many indie musicians, but now it is one of the few income sources available, along with sales of merch, physical records, and downloads on Bandcamp. According to artists, the pandemic is only exacerbating the inequities of a system that is rigged against the people who make it run. Under these dire circumstances, musicians are organizing through unions and other advocacy groups to fight for larger payments from streaming platforms. One such group is the Union of Musicians and Allied Workers (UMAW), a new organization that counts Fitzgerald as a member of its steering committee, alongside members of bands like Speedy Ortiz and Downtown Boys. Another is the Keep Music Alive alliance, a partnership between the UK’s Musicians Union and songwriters association the Ivors Academy, which joined forces after the pandemic’s onset, aiming to remedy the “woefully insufficient” payments made from streaming services, according to a mission statement. These organizations differ in approach, location, and scale—the Musicians’ Union was formed in the 19th century and represents 30,000 people; UMAW was formed in May and its current membership numbers in the hundreds—but both are responding to the same crisis. “I don’t have any friends who don’t have some kind of financial worries right now,” says Sadie Dupuis, UMAW founding member and guitarist-songwriter of Speedy Ortiz. “For most musicians I know who are touring full-time, the work they have outside of that is all based in the service industry, and they can’t get back into that either.” According to Mark Taylor, communications director of the Ivors Academy, the situation represents nothing less than an existential crisis over the future of music itself. “We really just want to keep music alive,” he says. “It’s good for us, it’s good for our souls, it’s good for the economy, it’s good for culture.” In the UK, the Keep Music Alive campaign is pushing for a government review of the streaming industry, which it hopes will result in additional regulations over the way payments are doled out. The UMAW, as a new organization aimed at a host of issues including streaming, has not yet formalized a set of demands for changes. Both groups acknowledge that the process of fixing streaming will be as complicated as the recognition of its brokenness is simple.How do streaming payments work? Artists receive, on average, a small fraction of a cent for each time one of their songs is streamed on a major platform. A seemingly obvious fix would be for the platforms to simply increase this number. But while these tiny per-stream payments are a useful concept for identifying the problem, they’re not particularly useful for solving it, because they don’t reflect the mechanism by which the platforms actually distribute money. According to a detailed survey of streaming payments by the music industry analytics company Soundcharts, streaming platforms pay out roughly 60 to 70 percent of their annual revenue to “rightsholders,” a group that includes musicians, record labels, songwriters, publishers—anyone who has a financial stake in the sales of a given record. Spotify, the most popular platform in the U.S. and globally, projected a total revenue between roughly $9 and $9.5 billion for 2020 in a recent letter to shareholders, which would make the total rightsholders’ take something like $6 billion for this year. That huge pile of money is then divvied up to artists (and their associated labels and so on) according to their stream counts as a fraction of the total streams on the platform for a given period. A single stream does not entitle a musician to a payment of some fixed amount; it entitles them to a slightly larger piece of the total rightsholders’ pie. To understand why per-stream payments can be an unrepresentative metric, imagine no one streamed anything on Spotify for all of 2020, except for a single person who played, say, 100 gecs’ “Money Machine” a single time. As long as those hypothetical non-listeners didn’t cancel their subscriptions, and money kept rolling in to Spotify, that one play could earn 100 gecs millions of dollars, because it would entitle them to the whole pie. Soundcharts offers another way of looking at it. Each time Spotify introduces a new feature aimed at keeping people listening for longer, like autoplaying similar artists after you finish an album, it sends the average per-stream figure down. That’s not because Spotify is suddenly skimping on payments, but because people are streaming more songs—and when people stream more songs, a single stream is equivalent to a smaller pie slice. That’s fine for established artists whose music is regularly recommended by these listener-retention features, because the dilution in value of a single stream is offset by an increase in streams. But for artists who aren’t being recommended, it means their streams are worth less.How could platforms make payments bigger? Though making streaming services work better for musicians is not as straightforward as demanding a higher payment per stream, there are several ways the system could theoretically be changed to get more money into artists’ pockets. Most obviously, companies like Spotify could increase the 60 to 70 percent share of their revenue that they pay out to rightsholders. But if recent history is any indication, that number is likely to go down before it goes up. Spotify renegotiated its deals with labels in 2017; before that, the payout number was more like 80 percent. At the time, the labels agreed to have their payments cut—thereby reducing musicians’ payments as well—because they believed they needed Spotify in order to ensure their own survival. With streaming accounting for an ever-increasing majority share of the recording industry’s revenue each year, the labels probably won’t be changing their minds about that anytime soon. But even if Spotify and the labels reverted back to the old deals, it doesn’t seem like it would do much for the average musician; it’s not as though indie bands were rolling in dough from streaming back in 2015. Groups advocating for bigger streaming payments could demand that Spotify give up an even larger revenue share—90 percent, say—but it’s hard to imagine Spotify would agree to it. Even the labels, who would have to sign off on such a deal and would be its chief beneficiaries, seem more inclined to accept Spotify’s word that they’re better off making less money so that Spotify can thrive. Another option would be to advocate for the platforms to increase their subscription price. Higher monthly fees means more revenue; more revenue increases the size of the overall pie given out to rightsholders; a bigger pie means bigger slices for all musicians. But while most music fans likely agree that artists deserve more money, asking listeners to pay up themselves is trickier. “It’s interesting, the price of a subscription has stayed static for a number of years,” says Taylor of the Keep Music Alive alliance. “But frankly, given where we are economically right now, and pressure on peoples’ wallets, that’s probably not the route to go down as a campaign.” Instead, Keep Music Alive advocates for overhauling the payment system entirely, toward what’s known as a user-centric model, which would apportion the subscription fee from each user to the artists they actually listened to that month. If I only listen to 100 gecs, my $9.99—minus Spotify’s take—goes directly to 100 gecs and their label. The current system, known as pro rata, gives more financial weight to the preferences of users who stream more songs, whereas user-centric payments would treat the preferences of all users equally. Taylor says the user-centric model is a better reflection of how listeners interact with the artists they love outside of the streaming realm: “We choose to go to gigs, to buy merchandise, and part of that exchange is, ‘I want my money to go to this artist, so they can make a living, and do more of what they do.’ That is a very distinct relationship that currently doesn’t work, really, in streaming.” A user-centric model is appealing in the abstract, and there is reason to believe it could financially benefit some smaller artists in the long run. According to a 2017 study by the Finnish Music Publishers Association, 10 percent of all streaming revenue flows to the top .4 percent of artists under the pro rata system. The study found that a user-centric system would cut the revenue to that top tier nearly in half and increase the overall flow of money to less popular artists. However, some individual small artists ended up receiving less money under a user-centric system in the study’s simulation. The French streaming platform Deezer announced a switch to user-centric payments last year, but for now there is little real-world data showing its effects one way or the other.What about labels? Streaming platforms do not make payments directly to musicians, but rather to labels, distributors, publishers, and copyright collection societies, all of whom take their own cuts before passing the money along. The share of revenue that ends up in a performing artist’s pocket also depends on factors that have more to do with these other parties than the streaming services themselves: chiefly, whether the artists are performing their own compositions or someone else’s, and the size of the splits they’ve negotiated with their label over revenue from their recordings. These factors may help explain why a songwriter with no label like Stolen Jars’ Cody Fitzgerald makes more money from streaming than a signed artist who mostly performs works by other composers like Tasmin Little, despite the greater popularity of Little’s recordings. The label’s cut of an artist’s streaming revenue varies from artist to artist and label to label, and the contracts that govern it aren’t generally made public. But several experts estimate that labels get anywhere from 50 to 85 percent. Fifty-fifty splits are common to indie labels; majors generally take a larger share. The Keep Music Alive campaign broadly presents itself as a critique of the streaming industry, but its specific platform focuses equally on the role of labels. According to Taylor, the 85 percent a major label might take from an artist’s revenue is no longer justified in the streaming era. “A lot of that is a hangup from when they had larger overheads, from when they had to store and ship CDs,” he says. “There was a cost to all of that, which is now largely being reduced. We’re basing this new system on outdated models.”What’s next? For musicians facing an undeniably appealing and increasingly dominant technology that threatens to usurp their livelihood, resistance can seem futile. It would be foolish to pretend that streaming isn’t an amazing service from a listener’s perspective, or that it will go away just because it doesn’t seem fair. Talk to enough musicians and you’ll find plenty who are vocal critics of streaming, but still host their albums on streaming services and are subscribers themselves. “It would be great to strike a new balance, because these streaming services are really helpful in terms of music discovery—I buy more records than I used to, because I can get psyched up on something new without having to go to the listening station at the Virgin Megastore,” says Dupuis. “But the discrepancy between what mega-corporations are pulling in off artists’ music and what we’re pulling in is pretty gross.” An individual musician who’s inclined to protest that discrepancy has limited options. They could pull their catalog from the platforms, but that seems doomed to fail as anything other than an act of symbolism.“Unless there’s a big collective action to do that, that will not do anything,” Fitzgerald says. “If you do it by yourself, it will just make it so you can’t grow your fanbase, so you can’t be a band.” Spotify’s problems with paying musicians may be inextricable from its value proposition to subscribers: $9.99 per month is an incredibly small price to pay for push-button access to nearly the entire history of recorded music. Practically every musician on Earth is vying for their piece of the pie, and there just may not be enough to go around. Spotify understandably wants to make money, and probably deserves something for its development of the technology itself. But even if it conceded to pay 100 percent of its revenue to rightsholders, and somehow managed to continue operating, the payouts under the current system would still be paltry for many musicians. Take Tasmin Little’s $15.50 for six months of streaming. Multiply that by 10—a factor which would far exceed Spotify’s total revenue if it were applied to its entire catalog—and it’s still only $155. Recognizing the futility of the situation doesn’t inure musicians to its indignities, which have continued rolling in as the pandemic pause stretches into an epoch of its own. First, there was the virtual “tip jar” that Spotify rolled out as an optional add-on to artist pages, which allowed listeners to donate money to musicians directly—an apparently well-intentioned gesture that nonetheless served as a tacit admission that streaming revenue could never keep most artists afloat on its own, even as Spotify subscriptions and revenue surged during the early weeks of the outbreak. Then, there was the news that Spotify had paid the wildly popular podcaster Joe Rogan over $100 million for exclusive rights to his show, the latest indicator of a larger priority shift toward podcasts for the company. Ted Gioia, a music historian and jazz pianist, summed up musicians’ frustrations with a tweet: “A musician would need to generate 23 billion streams on Spotify to earn what they’re paying Joe Rogan for his podcast rights… In other words, Spotify values Rogan more than any musician in the history of the world. Sound fair to you?” I emailed Gioia, who has written a celebrated book on music’s power to subvert existing orders, to ask if there’s any way that musicians, and the listeners who love them, can change the streaming system for the better. In a thoughtful and lengthy response, he chastised the record industry for failing to keep up with technological innovations on its own, allowing tech companies like Spotify to swoop in and set the negotiating terms. He pointed out that individual musicians have little to no leverage in their dealings with streaming platforms, despite the fact that their music makes those platforms run. He called the prospect of convincing platforms to pay musicians more a “pipe dream.” Despite all this, he ended his message with a faint note of hope. One way to fix things, he wrote, “would involve musicians taking control of their own destiny,” and walking away from streaming en masse to start something new. “Make no mistake, musicians could run their own streaming and distribution platforms, and reallocate the cash toward the people who create the songs,” he continued. “No, I don’t expect any of these things to happen. I’m just saying they could happen.” Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com