Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

Never too late for Jeeni!

/ By
Never too late for Jeeni!

by Mel Croucher

I was a young man living in Stockholm. It was the summer of 1969 and I was flat broke. I had the clothes I stood up in, a diploma in architecture and a kazoo. I was too shy to be a busker, so I invented pay-on-demand live-streamed entertainment. I became a human jukebox. I got me an abandoned cardboard box just about big enough to hide inside, and I cut a horizontal slot near the top for my media input/output. Below the slot I punched eight holes to act as the graphic user interface. The reason there were eight holes was because I only knew eight songs, and I scrawled the song title alongside each hole. The idea was for passers-by to provide me with digital input commands by sticking their finger through the hole of their choice, and I would give them a short rendition of the selected song on my kazoo. As a token of their appreciation they would reward me with loose change dropped through a small vertical slot labelled Thank You in English and Swedish. It was very hot squatting inside that box.

So here we are, more than half a century later, and the music industry should be in crisis. As a result of the pandemic, artists and musicians have seen their venues close down, festivals cancelled, tours abandoned, and wary audiences slink off to go online. The new normal for live performers should be that they are well and truly buggered. But I am delighted to say the very opposite is true. The new normal has revealed that the traditional models for the entertainment industry were a hoax. All those record labels, agents, managers, ticketers and merchandisers were a bunch of parasites. Half a century later, the new generation doesn't even need a kazoo and cardboard box to squat in for a live performance. They've got smartphones. And they don't need to rely on passers-by to busk at. They've got a global audience, thanks to utilities like Soundcloud, Tidal and Jeeni. Even on Facebook we have the facility for interminable live broadcasts of self-indulgent shite from the box-room. And I'm not just talking about singers and musicians. The same applies to actors, dancers, poets, voiceovers and kazoo virtuosos.

There are more independent artists than ever before who have been able to break into the mainstream without any support from a lousy label, a poncy publisher, a suffocating sponsor, mingy manager or arrogant agent. This is an entertainment revolution, where digital distribution, streaming platforms, social media and online marketing tools have changed the way artists perform their work and reach out to fans. By cutting out all the spongers, an independent artist can suddenly enjoy a number of important advantages. To me, the most important is that they now have 100% complete control over the direction of their music, spoken word and creative work. They also have full control over distribution, marketing, artwork, merchandising, deadlines, gigs, ticketing, prices, schedules - in fact all of those affirmative decisions about their creative vision. But it's not just about control. The new normal means that independent artists can keep 100% of all the profits generated from sales, streams, licencing deals, merchandise, and small change dropped through cardboard slots. The reason they can do this is because without the parasites they own all their own stuff. Independent artists own the master rights to their creative work, which means they also have the freedom to negotiate licensing, streaming and publishing deals, and they don’t have to worry about shyster contracts, expensive lawyers, and signing over their rights.

Of course the parasites are not going to give up without a fight. Book agents, publishers, distributors and publicists are still clinging on, years after it became obvious that nobody really needs them now that anyone can self-publish in the digital age. In the music and entertainment industry the leeches will still argue that they are vital, even though they already know they are dead. They will keep trying to treat artists like idiots and tell them they don't have the money for mastering, or production or touring or merchandise. Which is a lie, because if artists don't have to pay the leeches then they will save the money. Artists will also be told that they have a limited network of fans and contacts, whereas organisations and labels have access to big fat fanbases and red hot connections with professionals, promoters, booking agents and media. This is an even bigger lie, demonstrated by the fact that even a no-hoper musician like me has a Facebook network big enough to fill The Royal Albert Hall, including the bogs, with or without social distancing.

The biggest problem I can foresee in this brave new world of independent entertainment is lack of discipline. Put simply, if creatives were once prepared to rely on a bunch of parasites and leeches, they must now learn to rely on themselves, and that involves actually getting down to some hard work and doing stuff, irrespective of whether or not they have oodles of native talent. Desperation and hunger is an excellent motivator, so I invite the independent artists and performers of the new normal to get hold of their own electronic cardboard box and give it a go. And above all, don't forget to have fun while you're about it.

Mel Croucher is the founder of the UK videogames industry, and writer of the most widely-read, longest-running column in computer journalism. He is the founder director of Jeeni and owns a black T-shirt.

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15
Feb

Artist Focus: Alana Sukul

Stirring together funk, dancehall and electronic ingredients, Alana Sukul is rapidly building momentum with her unique take on modern pop.  Brand new to Jeeni, Alana Sukul has contributed five new tracks to several of our channels due to her music casting such a huge stylistic net. Born and raised in Fulham, Alana is currently studying Popular Performance, Vocals at BIMM, London where she continues to hone her already impressive skills as a vocalist, instrumentalist, producer and songwriter. Only recently, for her more dancehall inspired tracks, has Alana used external talent in the form of a producer to help her capture the tone and intention she has in mind. Aside from that, Alana is a total DIY bedroom pop artist and has done extraordinarily well for herself, particularly with her recent track, ‘Closer’ which currently has over 50,000 listens. Check out Alana’s Jeeni showcase here: https://jeeni.com/showcase/alana-sukul/   The poeticism in Alana’s lyrics is perfect for expressing emotive imagery that plain language simply can’t. ‘Emotions, heavy like water and you let me drown’, this particular line from ‘Healing’ seems reminiscent of the Mexican idiom, ‘blood is thicker than water’ meaning that family bonds are stronger than that of friends or love; the connection between the two adages is especially relevant considering the heart-broken yet regenerative narrative of this stellar track from 2020.  Although it would seem that the double single of the aforementioned ‘Healing’ and ‘IDNYT’ is Alana’s first release, she actually created a since-deleted concept project in college, as Alana puts it herself, “I made my first EP called ‘Genesis’ purely based around the struggle of mental health and how it can take a toll on one person.’   Nobly, Alana decided that the EP could be too honest and beak a project for fans to initially be exposed to, “I decided at 19 to remove the EP since I wanted to become a better inspiration for those who listen to my music and encourage them more lightly”. Ironically however, the ‘Genesis’ project and the creative decision that it inspired still formed her origin as an artist as is inspired her to begin again with a new mindset. This is when Alana began to work on ‘Healing’ and ‘IDNYT’ from her bedroom.  Alana’s broad sense of style is of no surprise when you consider the colourful collection of inspirations that she collected growing up. Motown, soul and hip-hop have influenced a lot of creative choices from Alana, however Caribbean-originated genres literally run through the veins of her more recent singles. Alana grew up with a variety of Caribbean styles thanks to her parents, “dancehall, soca and bashment have greatly influenced me since my parents are from the Caribbean”.  Alana also has an extensive list of artists she looks up to and dreams to collaborate with, “Vocally, my favourite artists nowadays who have impacted me would be Ariana Grande, Jennifer Hudson, Kehlani, H.E.R, Beyoncé and so much more.” Alana specifically credits Korean group, BTS for inspiring more in-depth meaning behind her music and lyrics. The newest track from Alana, ‘Good to you’ is an atmospheric and stunning single and is available on streaming platforms now. Check it out on Jeeni here: https://jeeni.com/good-to-you-alana-sukul/?channel=alana-sukul&rtn=btasc&artist=alana-sukul   How can Jeeni support artists like Alana Sukul?   JEENI is a multi-channel platform for original entertainment on demand. We’re a direct service between creatives and the global audience.  artist biography • 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. 

10
Jun

"YE COMBINATOR" ALREADY EXISTS (SORT OF)

By Cherie Hu Kanye West is back on Twitter for more rants. Water is wet.This time around, though, he’s talking about issues that are hard for the music industry to ignore, in a way that leaves few stones unturned. On September 16 — a frenzied day for music-business Twitter — West tweeted over 100 individual pages (thank you Dani Deahl) of his recording contracts with Island Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella Records, dated between 2005 and 2016. Yesterday, he followed up by laying out a proposal of music-industry “guidelines” that included the removal of blanket licenses, a shift towards one-year, short-term licensing deals and an 80/20 royalty split in the artist’s favor. And today, he proposed forming an artist’s union.Many industry commentators have rightfully pointed out that aside from his contract details, 1) nothing West has pointed out is actually new, 2) some of his guidelines are unrealistic to pull off without collective action and 3) and he may have even put himself at a legal disadvantage by being so transparent with the terms of his own deals. That said, many of West’s critiques around artist equity, transparency and leverage parallel the key pillars behind recent initiatives like The Show Must Be Paused that have put unprecedented pressure on music companies to be more accountable for their actions, or face the consequences.Amidst all this buzz, though, I personally think there’s too much of a focus on how to improve existing recording contracts, and too little imagination of what other models might be possible for growing artists’ careers outside of the incumbent label system.This brings me to the topic I want to focus on today. On September 15, West claimed mid-rant that he spoke with Katie Jacobs — founder and general partner of Moxxie Ventures and board member of Vivendi, Universal Music Group’s parent company — about the possibility of creating “a ‘Y combinator’ for the music industry so artist[s] have the power and transparency to to [sic] be in control of our future … no more shady contracts .. no more life long [sic] deals.” The tweet got excited replies from powerhouses in the tech world like Sam Altman (former president of Y Combinator, now CEO of OpenAI) and Alexis Ohanian (co-founder of Reddit), and the nickname “Ye Combinator” soon emerged from the noise.In case you don’t know already, Y Combinator (YC for short) is a startup accelerator that has funded over 2,000 startups over the past 15 years. Aside from now-ubiquitous tech companies like Stripe, Airbnb, Dropbox and Reddit, YC’s current cohort and alumni include several companies like Twitch, Genius, The Ticket Fairy, Jemi and Gigwell that have direct interests in the music, entertainment and culture industries.YC makes its terms transparent on its website: A $125,000 investment in exchange for 7% of the company, through a post-money simple agreement for future equity (or SAFE). There are two YC cohorts a year, lasting three months each, in which startup members get access to the accelerator’s extensive alumni network, weekly speaker sessions and office hours, vertical-specific founder communities and other benefits. Each cohort also concludes with a flashy Demo Day that consistently draws hundreds of investors in person (and many more online, especially this year).One implicit point that West makes in his “Y Combinator for music” proposal is that record labels don’t fit the bill. Indeed, a common misconception is thatlabels are to artists what accelerators or VC firms are to startups. This comparison makes sense in that both labels and VCs tend to take higher risks with more capital on artists/founders that are relatively unproven in the marketplace, while also embracing a high-volume, portfolio approach to diversifying their risk. But the similarities stop there: A record-label advance is not an equity investment, it gives the label a financial interest in only one specific revenue stream in the artist's entire business (for the most part) and the outcome often makes artists feel less entrepreneurial, not more.That said, West’s idea is far from original, as many versions of “Y Combinator” for music already exist outside the traditional label model.Music accelerators began to emerge in full form in the early- to mid-2010s. Some, like Techstars Music, Abbey Road Red and Project Music, service founders of music-tech startups; others cater more to emerging artists looking to embrace a founder mindset in their careers. I reported on this trend for Music Ally back in 2016, and the playing field has widened significantly since then — ranging from formal, focused accelerator programs to more freeform incubators, residencies and coworking spaces, all serving the increasingly influential artist-entrepreneur archetype.A non-exhaustive list of examples: The Rattle (London, UK and Los Angeles, CA, USA)Zoo Labs (Oakland, CA, USA)Backline Accelerator (Cleveland, OH; Milwaukee, WI; Detroit, MI)REC Philly (Philadelphia, PA, USA)Th3rd Brain Accelerator (Los Angeles, CA, USA; ran until 2018)Assemble Sound Residency (Detroit, MI)Heavy Sound Labs (Los Angeles, CA, USA; part of startup studio Science Inc.) [Note: Some people would categorize songwriting camps, rap camps and independent music distributors like UnitedMasters and Stem as the equivalents of a Y Combinator for music. I disagree with this analysis because 1) startup accelerators need to focus on business models, not just on product development; 2) songwriting camps run by major labels benefit major labels, instead of providing an alternative path to success; 3) distributors are mostly self-serve SaaS platforms, not more focused educational programs.] If you click through these accelerators’ websites, something you may notice is that they are not necessarily catering to the aspiring Kanyes of the world. Instead, many of them have the goal of cultivating self-sufficient, local music communities in cities that might otherwise be overshadowed by major industry hubs like New York, Los Angeles and Nashville. Many of these accelerators also intentionally encourage their artists to use startup terminology — e.g. prototyping, testing, customer development, design thinking — as a tool for crafting a self-directed music career beyond just getting signed to a label and hoping for the best. This lies at the heart of what I see as the main limitation of West’s discussion of “Y Combinator for music,” which was ultimately framed within the relatively more conservative context of improving major-label deals. If you take the concept of “artist as entrepreneur” or “Y Combinator for music” seriously, you can’t approach the problem just from the vantage point of making existing label contracts better; that immediately presupposes a business model that doesn’t have to be etched in stone. Instead, the discussion should be more about changing the entire decision matrix altogether, such that an artist starts to question whether they even want to sign a standard deal in the first place. Anything less falls short of the idea’s imaginative, progressive potential. The financial gulf between music and tech When thinking about what “Y Combinator for music” can look like, one immediate red flag that needs to be addressed is that music and tech are vastly different businesses.Major artists and entertainers can build up enviable business empires by diversifying their brand beyond music into beauty, fashion, alcohol and other verticals. But by many investors’ standards, even this massive amount of wealth ends up being relatively paltry and slow to come by.Let’s look at West as an example. According to Forbes, West’s business interests in music and fashion make him one of the wealthiest celebrities in the world, with a net worth of $1.3 billion. But he only got to this point after grinding nonstop in the music business for nearly 25 years. Similarly, Rihanna has a net worth of $600 million, but she worked tirelessly over the course of the last 15 years to get her career to this point. Beyoncé’s net worth is $400 million, and she’s been in the business for 23 years.Measured against Silicon Valley’s expectations, these growth rates and market caps would be considered meager, even abysmal. For comparison: West name-dropped Airbnb and Dropbox in his tweet about Y Combinator. Airbnb is 12 years old, and is already valued at $18 billion (which is only half of its peak valuation of $31 billion three years ago). Dropbox is 13 years old, and is currently valued at around $8 billion. In other words, Airbnb and Dropbox individually achieved more than 6x the value of Kanye West’s brand in just half the time.This is an apples-to-oranges comparison — and that’s exactly the point. Building a celebrity brand is a fundamentally different business from building a tech platform. In being inextricably tied to human talent, celebrity brands are harder to scale, grow much more slowly and end up being much smaller in size than SaaS and marketplace products of comparable fame. Hence, simply copying and pasting the Y Combinator incentive structure for emerging artists is arguably inappropriate, and runs the risk of even more churn-and-burn on the artist side without laying out clear expectations for a different kind of growth and development.This financial gulf also holds true when you expand your view to music corporations, not just celebrities. The market value of the world’s biggest recorded-music company (Universal Music Group at around $34 billion) is only 1% that of the world’s most valuable tech company (Apple at $1.9 trillion), and nearly 25% lower than that of the world’s biggest music streaming service (Spotify at $44.5 billion).In general, investors still view music as a relatively small niche compared to other entertainment sectors like film and gaming, and especially to other industries outside of entertainment like software services. Major music corporations are trying to compensate for this value gap by holding mutual stakes in streaming platforms; celebrities are also investing in tech startups to have an individual upside in Silicon Valley’s growth. Note that the everyday artist, unless they own stock in Warner Music Group or Spotify, is essentially nowhere to be found in this financialized picture.It’s hard to argue against a more even distribution of wealth between the millions of artists around the world and the handful of media and tech corporations that command eleven-figure valuations off the backs of these artists’ works. Indeed, in his Twitter rant, West addresses this issue in a rather capitalistic way (emphasis and punctuation added): “I am the only person who can speak on this because I made multi billions outside of music — no musicians make billions inside of music — I’m going to change this.”That said, I wish West took more time to address the vast majority of artists — hell, the vast majority of people, period — who will never be billionaires. Among the modern generation of music distributors and music-tech startups, there’s increasing discussion about growing the “middle class” of artists and enabling them to live sustainable, healthy lives off their creative work without feeling like they need to chase outsized growth projections. A truth that West neglects in his public discussion is that if the music industry is to be more equitable, you don’t need to make billions of dollars to be deemed “successful.”In general, the music and tech industries both tend to suffer from the same myopic view of success in entrepreneurship — whereby case studies from the top 1% of the top 1% of companies are treated as the rule, rather than as the exception that they truly are. While celebrities’ growth trajectories are certainly illuminating and informative, an education in music entrepreneurship that paints these stories as the “norm” will automatically set emerging artists up for disappointment.This brings us to one last fundamental question:  What is the end game? While YC has transformed how early-stage startups get their footing, the program also arguably serves the incumbent investment world by grooming startups for the next level of more traditional VC deals (Series A, B, C, etc.). Moreover, the notion of a lucrative “exit strategy” (i.e. a big IPO or acquisition by a larger company) being the primary north star for many startups has only become more intense in a world of accelerators, not less.If we made a Y Combinator for music, what would that “next level” look like for artists? Is it still to “exit” to a traditional label deal, or potentially to arrive at a totally different business structure altogether around an artist's work? Is the goal simply to have more leverage against incumbents in deal negotiations, or to decrease reliance on incumbents as a whole and build a fruitful, independent business on one’s own terms?Interestingly, recent history has suggested that independent music companies who claim to be a “one-stop shop” for the next generation of mainstream, culturally influential artists actually have a hard time keeping them from major labels’ grasp. Amuse couldn’t keep Lil Nas X. UnitedMasters couldn’t keep NLE Choppa. Human Re Sources couldn’t keep Pink Sweat$. In all of these cases, the best opportunity to go to the “next level” was to partner with an incumbent.West’s stance on what this “next level” actually looks like in his perfect world isn’t clear. For one thing, West’s solution for “freeing artists” seems to rely mainly on improving major recording and publishing contracts. That is not a startup accelerator — that’s an arduous political debate that requires decades worth of collective action. Moreover, the fact that he discussed this idea with a Vivendi board member implies that an initial iteration would be additive, not disruptive, to a major label’s business. For instance, a company like UMG would likely invest in a YC-type set up as a self-serving A&R funnel, upstreaming the most promising talent directly from each cohort to a more standard deal (major labels invest in independent distribution businesses for a similar reason).I’d like to think that West’s idea of “setting artists free” can have room for multiple different kinds of careers, not just a slightly better or more efficient version of the dominant model. I’d like to see a Y Combinator for music focus on the more than 40 different revenue streams that artists can potentially make from their work — spanning the likes of direct-to-fan memberships, grants and teaching, not just recording, touring or merch — and on the wide range of company structures and fundraising strategies that can support a profitable, “middle-class” artist business. In the tech world, organizations like Indie.vc and Zebras Unite, and movements such as “Exit to Community,” provide a potential blueprint for how to prioritize sustainability and profitability while exploring alternative financing models for startups such as revenue-based financing and equity crowdfunding. (A lot of these alternative models are already underway in music, but not with the endorsement of someone like Kanye.)Journalist David Sax's recent op-ed for Bloomberg, "It’s Time to Reclaim the Meaning of the Word ‘Entrepreneur,'" rings strongly here: “For too long, we bought into the notion that all we needed to do was create and support the entrepreneurs building the biggest businesses, assuming the trickle-down of money, jobs, and innovation would benefit everyone. But a healthy economy needs a full complement of enterprises: the high-tech, rapidly growing companies and midsize manufacturers; the MBA-educated innovators disrupting markets; and the small businesses run by minorities, immigrants, women, and seniors that make our neighborhoods vibrant. Silicon Valley talks a lot about the ‘ecosystem’ for startups, but we need to remind ourselves that the healthiest ecosystems are diverse. They need microbes and ants — not just elephants.” To borrow Sax’s analogy, West is, in multiple senses, the elephant in the room: A problematic celebrity figure whom many of us are reluctant to talk about, and an ultra-wealthy entertainment magnate who is the exception, not the rule, in the vast ecosystem of artist success. Arguing for artists’ freedom and rights without acknowledging the sheer diversity of career paths in the industry runs the risk of feeling like Tidal’s 2015 press conference — shiny, but tone-deaf. This is all to say: When you hear "Ye Combinator" or "Y Combinator for music," I encourage you to dream harder about what might be possible. In a way, West’s tweetstorms and their resulting debates serve as a litmus test for the kinds of solutions that people in the industry want to have come to life. I invite you to take this test yourself: What end game do you see? ✯

04
Apr

Zeeteah Massiah on Music, Performing and Life during 2020

Zeeteah Massiah is a Number One Billboard Dance Chart star who specialises in Reggae, Jazz and house music. Like many artists, the last year has provided many challenges for Zeeteah, but also a host of 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.  It’s been the craziest year ever, but we’ve made it through thirteen months in and out of lockdown. At the beginning of 2020, I unveiled a brand-new sound and a wicked new band, and I was full of high hopes for the year. I was excited and ready to go. And then Covid hit. It took me three weeks into the first lockdown to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be going on stage again for a long time. I was in a fog for weeks and then I thought: just because I can’t be on stage doesn’t mean I can’t make music. I suddenly had an impulse to record a new version of an old song that I’ve always loved – United We Stand by Brotherhood of Man. It seemed so right for that moment. Paul, my husband and musical partner, understood immediately the sound I was looking for, and we set to work in our studio. Three of my favourite musicians played on the track – remotely, of course – and family and friends in London, Germany and the Caribbean filmed lovely cameos for the video. It was such fun to do, and it got a wonderful response. You can check it out on Jeeni. And then a man called George Floyd died in Minnesota, and we were all plunged into a very different mood. I didn’t realise how painful many of my feelings about race were, and how deeply they were buried, until I started telling Paul, with tears in my eyes, about growing up in London as a young black girl from Barbados. I was constantly made to feel a certain way simply because of the colour of my skin. Here we are in 2021 and, sadly, many things are still the same. At one point I blurted out to Paul, “You don’t know how it feels to be Black”.  He took those words and turned them into a song called You Don’t Know. We recorded it and made the video in July. It’s one of the most heartfelt things I’ve done, and I’ve been amazed by the incredible response it’s had and so grateful for the wonderful feedback. I did manage to squeeze in three London gigs in the gaps between the lockdowns: a reggae gig in Chelsea, and jazz gigs in Hampstead and in the West End. Better than nothing – and in fact, they were all lovely events. When it became clear that there weren’t going to be any more gigs, I decided to start doing live sessions at home with some of my favourite musicians and sharing them on YouTube. And so, the Massiah Sessions were born. We’ve released nine videos so far, in a variety of styles, and there are more to come. I was also invited to add vocals to a new rock album by a dear friend in Germany. Thanks, Günther – it was a blast. In February, I did a livestream with guitarist Marcin Bobkowski for a charity called Educ’aid Africa, run by Isa Bell, which is helping to provide music education to schools in Benin. A recent DNA test revealed that many of my ancestors were from Benin, and so the project had a special meaning for me. It was my first livestream, and I loved it. I’m going to be doing another one on 10 April, and hopefully regularly after that – join us at zeestream.live if you can! And so now here we are, approaching the end of what we pray will be the final lockdown. And soon I’ll be back on stage in front of a live audience doing what I love best. My first live gig of 2021 will be on Thursday 27 May at Crazy Coqs in London’s West End. Maybe see you there? In the meantime, I wish you all the best for what will, hopefully, end up being a much better year. Zeeteah 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