The Democracy of Digital

If you're 30 years old or younger, you don't remember what the entertainment business was like in the pre-digital years. It was vastly different, and in ways it was better, but in many more ways, it wasn't nearly as much fun. Let me try, for once, to be clear.

Digital technology has replaced analog technology. That means when you play music these days, it's not being played back using a spinning vinyl disk or a cassette (or 8-track) tape. Electronic pulses are not being translated by a needle or playback head and thrown out through the speakers. Now it's a collection of one's and zero's, a matrix, if you will, which is translated by a computer program and thrown out through the speakers. This has allowed all kinds of miraculous things to occur. 

When I was a young buck, back in the 1970s, the pinnacle of success was to enter some top-notch recording studio (like Wally Heider's in San Francisco, or the Record Factory in Marin, both long gone) and roll a reel of two-inch 24-track tape. An engineer would sit at a console and twirl dials while the artist(s) in the studio would perform, often in those days one track at a time. The sound that would then emerge from the very expensive studio monitors would make almost anyone sound good. It was paradise, the few times I was in studios like that. It was easy to see how bands would spend months putting an album together -- the studios were often set up so that when you weren't recording, you could hang out in the dimly-lit control room on overstuffed couches and chairs, doing things musicians did back then. I've forgotten what that was now, but it was probably fun and not very healthy.

The downside of that approach -- studio time even back then was $150 an hour for a major studio. You could, if you wanted, find lesser studios in people's garages, basements, or in-law units, but the results were not nearly as good, and the cost was still prohibitive, at $30 to $50 an hour. By the time you finished any kind of serious project, you and your band were out anywhere from $1,000 to $5,000, and then you had to transfer the music from master tape to vinyl or cassette, which was another major expense, and beyond the expertise of most musicians. And then you had to find a way to get the product into stores like Tower Records and the Warehouse (both long gone now).  And if you were not signed to a major record label, that just wasn't going to happen. The music industry kept itself zipped up pretty tight. Independent labels did manage now and then to break through the barriers, but it didn't take long for the majors to spot success and either buy those labels or shut them down. 

Getting yourself exposed on television took an act of God, or record sales of half a million or more. Again, making that happen required a major label deal. And let me be clear about major record label deals -- it sounded good then, but there are hundreds of tales of bands being signed and then shelved to prevent competition with other bands the labels were trying to promote. Or contracts that stipulated creative control by the label, which meant that some coked-up haircut got to decide what music your band could and could not record. Or contracts that said the label will front you money to record an album, but the money from sales of your record goes straight to the label until that upfront money is recouped. And it was unlikely that your band had the wherewithal to hire an accountant capable of watching that transaction in a way that put money in your pocket. Ask John Fogerty -- Credence Clearwater Revival Band's leader and songwriter had to call his mother from the Bahamas to ask for money to get home from a tour, because despite all those monster hits the band had, John came out with nothing thanks to a cunning little contract with Fantasy Records.

Fast forward to 2008. I'm on vacation this week. I'm spend my time in my little home studio, recording my next solo album. Oh, I'm doing all the tracks myself, thank you. I've got sampled drums at my fingertips, many different bass guitar sounds, strings and horns and what have you, plus I can record as many guitar and vocal tracks as I need to. No tape involved,  or expensive recording gear. Just the same computer I use to post this blog, send emails and check newspaper Web sites.

Oh, and I've also created three new music videos, which I've posted on YouTube. Same computer. No big deal.

This is nothing short of miraculous, if you grew up in a time when such creative control was impossible. When I finish with my recording project, I can post it on Myspace and Facebook, getting it into the hands of my friends, who may hopefully then spread the word to their friends, and on and on. It's called viral marketing (you may know it as word of mouth) and it's a very powerful way to market your stuff. And I don't need a single nod from a single record label to be in complete control of my music. And I'm an old guy. The amount of material out there today made by young enthusiastic artists who don't get their dreams squashed by morons in the music business is amazing. The sky is the limit, and the sky these days is digital.