Where Did All The Bands Go?

Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

Where Did All The Bands Go?

This month, Adam Levine of Maroon 5 caused a ripple when he was chatting to Apple Music's, Zane Lowe. Whilst referring to all the bands about in 2002 when they released their first album, he questioned, "where did all the bands go? I feel like they're a dying breed." After clarifying he meant bands, "in the pop limelight", it still managed to spark a mix of bemusement and outrage from some fellow artists.

Maroon 5's Adam Levine - photo Mauricio Santana

Though his remarks may have smarted somewhat, it can't be denied, he has a point! In the early 00's new bands were a dime a dozen, filling arenas and regularly collecting platinum discs. New TV talent shows such as Pop Idol and X Factor filled Saturday nights with girl groups and boy bands, but the trend is shifting. According to Dorian Lynskey in the Guardian, currently, there are nine groups in the UK Top 100 and only one in the Top 40. Two are the Killers and Fleetwood Mac, with songs 17 and 44 years old respectively, while the others are the last UK pop group standing (Little Mix), two four-man bands (Glass Animals, Kings of Leon), two dance groups (Rudimental, Clean Bandit) and two rap units (D-Block Europe, Bad Boy Chiller Crew). There are duos and trios, but made up of solo artists guesting with each other. In Spotify’s Top 50 most-played songs globally right now, there are only three groups (BTS, the Neighbourhood, and the Internet Money rap collective), and only six of the 42 artists on the latest Radio 1 playlist are bands: Wolf Alice, Haim, Royal Blood, Architects, London Grammar and the Snuts.

Of course, radio and streaming are dominated by pop, rap and dance music but festival lineups don’t point to a golden age of bands, either. Of those that have emerged in the past decade, only half a dozen have headlined either Coachella, Reading/Leeds, Latitude, Download, Wireless or the main two stages at Glastonbury. That’s The 1975, Haim, alt-J, Rudimental, Bastille and Tame Impala, and the last of those is effectively a solo project. Only one band, the Lathums, appeared on the BBC’s annual tastemaking Sound of … longlist this year, which is not unusual: bands haven’t been in the majority since 2013. The album charts are still regularly topped by bands thanks to loyal fanbases who still buy physical formats – such as Mogwai, Architects and Kings of Leon in recent weeks – but not since 2016 has one hung on for a second week. So what happened?

With even the largest, well known bands struggling to get into the Top 20 in the streaming world, could one theory be, solo artists are cheaper and easier to handle for the record labels? Apparently not, according to Dirty Hit label's, Jamie Osborne. His independent label is responsible for among others, Wolf Alice and The 1975, but he is still desperate to find the next band he can sign and develop. However, he's not finding it easy! The problem is, he says, there aren’t that many around. “It’s more likely now that a kid will make music in isolation because of technology. When I first met the 1975, they were all friends meeting in a room to make noise. So much is done in bedrooms these days, so you’re more likely to be by yourself.”

Ben Mortimer, co-president of Polydor Records, says that cost is more of an issue for artists than for labels. “If you’re young and inspired to become a musician, you face a choice. If you go the band route, you need to find bandmates with a similar vision, you need expensive instruments and equipment, and you need to get out on the road to hone your craft. On the other hand, you could download Ableton [production software], shut your bedroom door and get creating straight away. Culture is shaped by technology.” So if the expenses are too high to even start a band, then rehearsal space and travel costs just add to the negatives. Does that mean bands and touring will only be for the rich, middle-class kids?

“Social media has filled the hole, creating individual stars who are seen as more ‘authentic’ than anything the retro talent-show format could offer,” says Hannah Rose Ewens, author of Fangirls, a study of contemporary fandom. "Social media is built for individual self-expression. Platforms such as TikTok, Instagram and Twitter – and even the portrait orientation of a smartphone screen – give an advantage to single voices and faces while making group celebrity less legible.

Hannah Rose Ewens with her book 'Fangirls'

The challenge posed by all pop cultural trends is to work out whether or not it is a permanent structural shift or just another phase. The right group at the right time, whether it is the Strokes or the Spice Girls, can change everything. In the short term, the pandemic has made it impossible for new bands to form and threatens the survival of the regional venue circuit on which they depend, while Brexit has thrown up expensive new obstacles for touring bands. Yet Jamie Oborne remains optimistic. “I’m excited about the wave of creativity that’s going to follow this period that we’ve just lived through,” he says. “I feel this hankering in youth culture for real experience and connection. I’m still quite the romantic when it comes to music. Look at Fontaines DC. I see a picture of them and wish I was in a band. It’s the same thing as walking down the street with your friends and feeling like you’re part of something. Anything’s possible.”

BACK

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.

10
Jun

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.

26
Aug

Jeeni hits another milestone! 85% of £150,000 target on Crowdcube

Jeeni has reached 85% of its £150,000 target on Crowdcube, thanks to over 130 investors who are celebrating their amazing investor rewards. Jeeni is a fast-growing entertainment company that promotes independent musicians and performers ethically and safely, and where artists get to keep 100% of everything they make. over 2,300 brilliant artist showcasesover 2.7 million audience outreachbuilt-in marketing tools for successGRAMMY-Award-Winning supporters We invite you to help us accelerate our success and scale-up for the best benefit of our members and investors. Join our fast-growing family of investors, and grab your rewards as you help us reach our target! Check out our pitch here. https://bit.ly/3BhEeia

Jeeni Blog