FIVE BRITISH/IRISH BANDS SET FOR LONGEVITY AND LEGEND

National Album Day UK 2024 has a theme of ‘great British groups’ (did Oasis time everything perfectly for this reunion?). In this post, I focus on the new crop of great British (and Irish) bands that have crossed The Rubicon - the point at which it is for them to decide how the rest of their career goes and no one else. Hopefully.

https://unsplash.com/@reganography Image by Samuel Regan-Asante

There is nothing better than a band in the ascendant - an unstoppable upward trajectory - on a roll. In the streaming era, with attention spans frayed, content flowing thick and fast everywhere and now AI looming to replace ‘real’ music, it’s more satisfying than ever to see bands and artists grow. For me this is especially true in the rock world. And since ‘indie is the new rock’ this applies to indie as well. It’s hard to speak in genre terms these days. I suppose ‘music with guitars, bass and drums’ might be the most accurate way to say it. 

Having discussed and dissected the art of longevity and survival in the music business a fair bit now, I’m especially pleased to see that bands can grow in stature in the way they always did, despite the ongoing pressure and a rather daunting checklist of ‘must achieves’, including:

1. Make some really good songs.

2. Find an audience.

3. Get some representation: manager, publisher, label, lawyer.

4. Build a fanbase.

5. Impress industry gatekeepers.

6. Make a decent debut album. 

7. Focus on the music YOU want to make.

8. Change creative course as necessary.

9. Improve your stagecraft.

10. Become commercially viable.

11. Stay together…and stay sane.

The potential for longevity checklist goes on. It isn’t easy running the record industry gauntlet. And that’s just on the way up. Through the downs (and there will be downs) bands will have to overcome all manner of adversity and setbacks, enough to draw up another checklist, for another article. 

It isn’t plain sailing from here, however. Even bands who cross The Rubicon will always be hungry and never satisfied, because it is creative longevity they seek really. They want to make a dent in the culture and a ding in the universe. They want their music to keep on getting better. They want to leave a legacy, and even become legend. That’s partly why bands like Radiohead and Arctic Monkeys are so revered. Not only have they achieved all of the above, but they did it on their own terms - that’s just the way it had to be. 

The second, third and fourth legs of the journey of a band are in many ways harder than the initial rise to ‘the top’. So in a sense, here is a potted ‘situation analysis’ for some of those bands with the potential to become household names, not just ‘popular’ but perhaps even known to your mum and dad, son or daughter or that friend who's not so much into music as you are. You dear reader will probably know these bands of course. But if not - remind yourself of these rare talents who just might go the distance.

Nothing But Thieves

Formed in 2012 in Southend-on-Sea, this English rock band has a classic five-piece line up with two lead guitar players (although they also play samplers and keyboards). The line-up is lead vocalist and guitarist Conor Mason, guitarist Joe Langridge-Brown, guitarist and keyboardist Dominic Craik, bassist Philip Blake, and drummer James Price. In 2014, they signed to RCA Records and have now released four albums with the UK major, the most recent, Dead Club City, getting to number one on the UK album charts. 

The band’s debut album wasn’t a critical success but has aged into a modern classic, containing a few genuine anthems. Singer Conor Mason has an unusual appeal combined with a signature voice with fantastic, operatic range, and the band is a growing force live (their 2024 Glastonbury set was storming). All round, they come across as a sort-of modern incarnation of Led Zeppelin and that’s saying something. The fourth album is a watershed for really good bands and Dead Club City paves the way for this one to go from very good to undeniably great. The band hasn’t had any hits and doesn’t need any. They have a sizable loyal fanbase. RCA records seems to have gotten it right with Nothing But Thieves, making the band a priority without over-hyping them. If anything, they are still underrated. They are about to embark on an US tour - probably an attempt to break there. Whether it succeeds or not, the band has everything needed for longevity, including most importantly, time. 

Fontaines D.C.

The Dublin (as in D.C.) band consists of Grian Chatten (vocals), Conor Curley (guitar), Conor Deegan III (bass), Tom Coll (drums) and Carlos O'Connell (guitar). I’ve heard ‘Fontaines’ described as “the best band in the world” twice in the space of one week by people on the radio, such is the band’s ascendancy curve. If Q Magazine still existed, and still handed out that award, Fontaines would be a dead cert winner for 2024. Since no such thing exists we might perhaps rephrase the accolade to “the hottest band around right now”. Quite rightly in my humble opinion. The band’s fourth album Romance took them to a new label, XL, after three albums with Partisan Records (who must have been gutted to lose them, but still have IDLES and an impressive roster). 

For Fontaines, the game has been ‘upped’ with a new producer and a set of really good songs (and a new anthem in ‘Favourite’) drawn from a wider genre palette. The band has also realised that ‘styling’ is a factor and they have come out with this record literally looking more the part (shout out to wearing Thin Lizzy T shirts lads). Given the band is essentially a sum of their influences, their sound is both derivative but somehow fresh - an exact requirement for potential longevity. Frontman and lyricist Grian Chatten has a way with words and an edgy stage presence. Live, the band is exciting but has work to do to become truly impressive at the same time. If anything, 2024 will require Fontaines to stay grounded and focused on their craft, as there is a danger of them becoming over-hyped. But right now the stars are aligning, with each subsequent of their (four) albums hitting a creative, critical and commercial ‘next level’ feel. Romance isn’t a masterpiece but is close enough, signalling the band has one in them. So, if longevous bands have their best work ahead of them, greatness beckons for Fontaines D.C. and praise be the bandwagon keeps on rolling. Their success has even paved a way for a crop of new Dublin guitar bands, including New Dad, Gurriers, so in some ways a legacy is stamped already. 

Wolf Alice

Wolf Alice are a rock band from London. Formed in 2010 as a duo, singer Ellie Rowsell and guitarist Joff Oddie ‘upgraded’ the band to a classic four piece, adding bassist Theo Ellis and drummer Joel Amey. As Chrissie Hynde might say: “is there anything better than a four piece rock & roll band?”. This rhetorical question from one of rock & roll’s greatest frontwomen won’t be lost on Ellie Rowsell. It’s clear the band are enjoying their ride towards greatness thus far, and working very hard at it. 

The stakes have been raised by Wolf Alice - a position they’ve chosen for themselves it seems. Their fourth album is very highly anticipated - in other words comes with dangerously high expectations - especially since they ‘switched up’ from an indie (Dirty Hit) to a major label, Columbia Records. Third album Blue Weekend was superb and topping it won’t be easy. Wolf Alice will have to either make a masterpiece, or ‘do a Kid A’ - something left of field but impressive - although I can only assume Columbia is very much expecting the former, not the latter. A strong fourth record would see the band poised for the very top, with Emily Eavis probably having their phone number at the ready for the big call up. That’s if Glastonbury still wants rock bands as headliners!

Like both Nothing But Thieves and Fontaines D.C., Wolf Alice have yet to catch on in the U.S.A., again probably something entering Columbia’s thought process. As said, the stakes are raised, but the band seems up for it - everything is set for that perfect music industry scenario: “next level success”. Next, longevity and legend status. Just don’t blow it folks. 

Sam Fender

I’m adding SF to the list even though he is of course, technically, a solo artist. However, Fender has a core band of loyal sidemen - his close mates. Even if they won’t ever become household names, they are to Sam what the E Street Band is to Bruce, with whom he is of course, compared. Is he worthy? The music industry shorthand must always make such comparisons but in this case, who would argue? He is the Springsteen of South Shields, The North, even the whole of Britain. Sam has already won over Glastonbury (calling card for future headline slot very much placed on the Eavis desk) and even receives advice from Sting. Sam Fender is a superstar already, although there is a question mark over whether he wants to be. That will have his major label reps in occasional night sweats. No pressure then, Sam. 

Two (UK number one) albums in, the expectations are for a great third record, preferably with another theme along the lines of bona fide hit Seventeen Going Under. And even if breaking the USA shouldn’t be a priority or a necessity, it feels like no other artist is rendering troubadour rock & roll quite like Sam Fender, even if that has been territory forever occupied by American artists (male and female). The last time Brits invaded American cultural territory so effectively might have been The Rolling Stones and they have stuck around you might say. SF has it all. Great songs, real deal working class roots, fantastic stage presence, classic album credentials. He is yet another potentially great artist under the wing of a major label (did you think major labels were just TikTok addicts these days?). Perhaps the more telling question is whether the modern music industry - and specifically Polydor Records - can accommodate and nurture such a talent into global stardom. We should all keep our fingers firmly crossed. 

Another Sky

Time for me to go out on a limb. Another Sky is a London based rock band composed of Catrin Vincent (vocals), Max Doohan (Drums), Naomi Le Dune (bass), and Jack Gilbert on drums. The band is two albums in (on Fiction, again within a major label structure this time Universal). 

This band has, in many ways, renewed my love of rock music. Think Talk Talk, U2, early Coldplay even - to bring crude music industry comparisons into it - and you’ll be getting warm. Another Sky might be derivative, but Catrin Vincent has a unique voice (a “once in a generation voice” according to one review) while the band plays really, really well. Their first two albums (and E.P. in-between) sound fantastic. Beach Day is especially impressive. They are old school in every sense, while their youth imbibes the music with the energy of early U2 and Radiohead records. 

Those first two albums didn’t chart, and so the band is yet to have any kind of real break. And yet their commitment to their art seems complete, they are destined to achieve some level of sustainable success, surely? Who would be an A&R man for rock bands in this day & age? Breaking a band with progressive rock leanings is not for the faint of heart, but then see above (Wolf Alice). The band just postponed a forthcoming UK tour, so I’m praying everything is okay and they can hold it together and work their way through the checklist. One thing with longevity is you’ve got to stay on the bus - the music industry is an ‘in it to win it’ business. 

You’ll no doubt have your own list of favourites. Indeed, one of the best things about the ‘band’ scene right now is that there is no shortage of great bands with lots of potential. The return of guitar bands intrigues me. Wunderhorse, Been Stellar, New Dad, Mercury Prize winners English Teacher, buzzed up The Last Dinner Party and Wet Leg - they are all really good, already. The last British band to become a household name is probably Arctic Monkeys and they arrived almost 20 years ago. Whether the bands mentioned here will reach anything close to Sheffield’s finest is unlikely. The music industry is a harder environment for bands to thrive in than it used to be. Labels can take less risk by signing a bedroom pop solo artist with a social media following. Bands have to share the paltry spoils from streaming four or five ways, making commercial viability harder by a multiple. As for hit records, bands can’t even get a look in on the charts these days.

But The Wombats, The Courteeners, The Kooks…who would have backed those bands for the long and fruitful success they have? They made their way down the checklist and into the second act, even if your mum and dad have never heard of them. 

Good luck to all of them.

The Queen & Sony Music deal sets a new high for rock royalties - what’s the upside?

One of the many books I have previously owned about Queen featured a profile of each member of the band. The UK publication (I’ll date it to the early 80s) remarkably listed each member of the band’s annual ‘wages’, at £100,000 each. Now £100k might have been a handsome salary in the 80s, though no doubt the figure was more nominal for tax related reasons. But compare it to Queen Productions annual revenues (circa £40m for the past few Companies House filings) and you can see how far Queen the band has come as a business. 

Now Sony Music is spending £1 billion to acquire a substantial proportion of Queen Productions copyrights. Sony ATV publishing previously administered Queen, but Sony has never participated in the recorded music rights. Queen famously spent their entire recording career with EMI (the song “Let Me Entertain You” from Queen’s 1977 album, Jazz, about the music business, famously name checks the company: “With a lecture, down at EMI, we’ll show you where it’s at”). But after Terra Firma acquired EMI, Queen Productions took their recording rights elsewhere - to Universal. Not long after that came the first major Queen renaissance of the 21st century.

There was a long period (most of the 90s and a fair chunk of the 2000’s) when nobody really cared much for Queen’s music. It took a steady succession of re-releases (the first initiative by UMG was to release remastered versions of all of Queen’s albums in the “super-deluxe” CD jewel case), massive legacy tours, documentaries, a blockbuster movie, major syncs and social media phenomena (do not underestimate the power of those Freddie meems) to elevate Queen from outside the top 200 and into the top 40 most streamed bands in the world.

In the past few years that has dropped off a little from 27th in the world at the beginning of 2021. But that is only relative to those other huge artists on Spotify, most of them current, active global superstars. Queen’s monthly listeners are, still, steadily ascending on the streaming platform. By the end of 2021, Queen were notching up 47.3m Spotify monthly listeners, but today’s figure is 52.4m. 

Queen Productions earnings also hit a peak a few years ago in 2018 at £73 million. So is £1 billion the right price? Especially since the deal excludes North American recording master rights (which remain with Disney). 

Queen is an ‘uncorrelated’ earnings monster. All of the above mentioned phenomena has helped to grow Freddie Mercury’s legend and weave Queen’s music into the fabric of western culture across generations. For Gen Z and millennials, it’s the hit songs that remain irresistible (remember those Bohemian Rhapsody reaction videos on YouTube?). Boomers continue to absorb Queen without a drop of boredom. How could we ever get bored of songs like Don’t Stop Me Now or Somebody To Love?

The intriguing question, given that this is the biggest rights acquisition deal yet, is what upsides might lie ahead to reignite the band’s catalogue further? Sony Music is well positioned to exploit Queen’s repertoire better than anyone. Firstly, there is the Japanese connection (the band was huge in Japan but their revival in that market has been modest). Secondly, it could be argued that Sony pioneered the song economy in many ways through its work with Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” (though don’t expect the same with Queen’s effort “Thank God It’s Christmas” even if that song is underrated). Sony could well bring Queen more into the world of video games through its influence there too. 

Part fun and part deadly serious (in character with the band in other words), here are 10 other ideas, some obvious and some not.  

1. Queen the hologram tour. It had to be The Sun newspaper’s Bizarre column (The Sun loved a good Freddie Mercury story) to tip the wink of a Queen Productions patent application already in play for “immersive 3D virtual, augmented, and mixed reality experiences”. After the success of ABBA Voyage and the forthcoming Kiss extravaganza, this simply has to happen at some point - though the current iteration with May, Taylor and Adam Lambert probably has to run its natural course first.

2. Queen The Musical 2.0. There is already a long-running (since 2002), enormously successful “jukebox” music call We Will Rock You. Written by Ben Elton, it was a triumph of popularity over critical opinion. It could do with a refresh. Times have changed considerably and so has Queen’s standing, as well as the theatre sector’s capability to deliver high concept musical productions. Brian May once said of Queen that “I don’t think we end up being less musical because we get involved in the theatrics”. A more inclusive and modern interpretation of the Queen story wrapped up in theatrics can’t lose. And, successful musicals can make a lot more money than tours. 

3. The real Freddie Mercury biopic. The 2018 Bohemian Rhapsody movie was a major success, but every fan knows how compromised and glossed-over it was compared to the film that was previously in the works. Sacha Baron Cohen wanted to play Mercury desperately but that won’t happen now. I would cast the Netflix series Narcos actor Diego Luna, before he gets too old. Let’s have the biopic Freddie deserves. 

4. AI-enhanced concert footage/films. This is the age of bumper live tours like never before. While the hologram tour is in the works, consider that Freddie Mercury was the world’s greatest rock & roll frontman, ever. After Live Aid in 1985 (where Freddie’s performance became not only pop culture legend but the subject of numerous academic papers) Queen’s concerts were widely filmed. A “Moonage Daydream” style film seems possible but with Freddie the subject, its appeal could be even more powerful.

5. Queen & Robbie Williams. Don’t laugh. Adam Lambert wasn’t exactly anyone’s obvious choice for a singer that would have worked on such a commercially successful scale. And Paul Rogers you have probably forgotten about despite his success as Queen’s singer 2004-2009. Robbie might not have Freddie’s vocal range but he does have his own brand of acutely British eccentric showmanship. If he knuckled down to it, it could work. The USA isn’t interested in Queen (so no worries about those US recording rights) or Robbie, but Brits and swathes of others around the world would lap it up. And we could get not one but two rollicking renditions of “Let Me Entertain You”.

6. Queen Reconstructed talent show. Tribute bands have done well out of the catalogue resurgence, and Queen has more tribute bands than any other rock group. Imagine a nationwide talent show where each member was recruited and then a brand new Queen tribute band is created from it. Over the opening and first four episodes the members are recruited and the series then follows their process of rehearsal and hitting the road. Would be fun for all generations of Queen fans.

7. “New” lost recordings with proper, endorsed AI. Again, it is inevitable that it will be attempted. I suspect that 2022’s emotional single release ‘Face It Alone’ used an assisted AI on Freddie’s voice (if so, it was incredibly well done). There isn’t an archive anything like Bowie or Prince, but you feel there must be lost tapes that might provide the stems to a handful of new recordings - enough to kindle the flames for yet another Queen catalogue resurgence? Can’t hurt.

8. Queen The Community. A Queen fan community and archive seems like an overdue idea, especially for the exploitation of image and naming rights. The current Queen online store is a pretty basic D2C shop, with very little by way of experiences, no rare materials or exclusives and no storytelling. Retreats, conferences, products and experiences for the rabid fanbase could become the exemplary experience for a legacy band. Def Leppard, Neil Young and others have paved the way. Working with Pophouse might be on the cards here.

9. Queen neo-classical remasters. In a world of lean back, focus and study “functional” music, why not bring a touch of class to background listening with Max Richter or Ólafur Arnalds (or, Hans Zimmer) placed in charge of an Abbey Road new recordings project to set the neo-classical world alight. And then, tour it, of course. 

10. Dragon Attack. About one in 10 Queen fans (surely a valid statistic) know that ‘Dragon Attack’ is one of, if not the best Queen song, ever. Like most catalogue legends enjoying a digital renaissance, Queen’s streaming numbers are loaded towards the band’s ‘Greatest Hits’. Yet each and every one of Queen’s studio albums will have a section of the Queen army rooting for it as their best (okay perhaps not 1982’s Hot Space, but all of the others). The UMG remastered series contained two ‘Deep Cuts’ compilations, but so much more could be done with Queen’s eccentric and outrageously eclectic, album tracks. Put Dragon Attack into a blockbuster game or the right scene in a movie and watch it blow. 

If commerce follows culture, then I would imagine there is much more upside to come from Queen’s creations. One front page article in The Sun in the 1980s had Freddie Mercury claiming “I’m rolling in money”. If only he would have lived on to see the true monetary value of what he and his band created. It might even be beyond Freddie’s imagination.

The Illusion of Vinyl

Be honest, when was the last time you put on a vinyl record and did nothing else but kick back on the sofa and listen? I mean genuinely nothing else. The experience is illusive. But if we want to value music more we should make it a reality, just like in the 60s and 70s.

70s turntable, by Mick Clarke

Vinyl seems to keep growing and growing. It fascinates me that younger people are getting into vinyl, despite the obvious ecological concerns. But then why should next generations be denied vinyl’s tactile, sensory pleasures just because they are young and therefore have to save the environment?

I place strict(ish) limits on vinyl purchases, for reasons of space, budget and yes, eco-guilt. Even so, my ‘collection’ (part of those limits it to avoid using that word) grows largely because I have an obligation to respect those albums that really stand out to me. And I feel like it’s the least I can do for the artists who lovingly make the recordings. Blood, sweat, tears and…vinyl.

But I do think that our current, renewed love for vinyl is complex. Many of the ideas I have about vinyl (ideas that drive a motivation for buying the format at the current average price of £26 per title compared with virtually free on Spotify) are essentially fantasy. 

I imagine a utopian scenario whereby I can be at home, with no distractions and no one else around, so the volume can be suitably high. I imagine having a spare 40 mins or perhaps even an hour - enough for a proper listening session. I imagine choosing a suitable title - a recent purchase, a new release or perhaps a classic, and then commencing the ritual: taking the record out of the sleeve, dropping the needle etc. Just put the record on, kick back on the sofa and just listen. The reality is entirely different of course. The number of times I get to enjoy listening in this way are…well almost never. 

The distractions are endless. Enemy no. 1 is of course, you guessed it, The Phone. Although I have only a few apps with notifications on, the all-demanding phone just lies there knowing it will be picked up and pecked at before too long - certainly within the space of 40 minutes. It is the vessel and repository for endless messages related to work, family affairs and friend contact. And a bottomless pit of news, reviews and social media guff. 

Second only to The Phone is…the house itself. Like anyone else’s house (I assume) it provides/requires a constant stream of essential small tasks, from emptying the dishwasher (or worse, putting it on so it can swoosh away while I’m trying to listen to a record) doing the recycling etc. or thinking about what’s in the fridge, just in case something is missing for dinner later.

Then there is the competition for this precious window of down time. Why not take this quiet time to catch up with some quality reading? Take the dog for another walk and enjoy nature?

It’s a guilt trip, sometimes, playing vinyl records, or attempting to. With listening time so scarce, it is inevitable that our vinyl collections far outweigh the time we spend playing them. Is the joy more conspicuous perhaps? Having that stock of records on the shelf as decoration - a show of identity or just the promise of a more relaxed, culturally enriched, less distracted future? Is this why many people - especially younger buyers - have vinyl collections despite not actually owning a turntable?

Then again, there is nothing quite so elegant as vinyl, certainly not from the perspective of music formats. I recently enjoyed Stephan Kunze’s ‘zensounds’ blog about listening more slowly, in which he says:

“Do you realize that some of these artefacts are extremely beautiful? People spend much time and effort on designing sleeves, choosing materials and even hand-crafting limited vinyl, CD or tape runs in special boxes, putting together liner notes and credits. I always loved reading through booklets while listening to music”.

Indeed, one look at the library of vinyl record covers designed by Hipgnosis (the design agency not the music catalogue fund) makes you realise just how much of a cultural powerhouse the format once was.

The whole vinyl ritual seems worth buying into even if it’s really more illusion than reality. Perhaps the answer is more discipline. Put the phone in the other room, or turn it off. Put routine listening sessions into the calendar - just once a week would be a start. The rare times I have achieved true vinyl-to-sofa sessions in recent times have been so immensely enjoyable, I can’t think of anything more beneficial to anyone who calls themselves a music fan. 

Long may the format’s commercial and cultural resurgence continue, but I hope we can do it justice by placing enough priority on our time to really enjoy vinyl as we used to. And if you have a collection but no turntable, then start saving up now and buy one good enough to do the format justice. As Corinne Bailey Rae’s first hit suggested: “Girl (/boy/non-binary person), put your records on. Tell me your favourite song. You go ahead, let your hair down”.

It’s good advice.

60s Crosley, by Mick Clarke

The precarious life of the modern troubadour

When will the singer-songwriter thrive again? 

There was a time when things looked up for the troubadour in the age of digital music. Earnings are so paltry from streaming that 3-6 piece rock bands have become virtually unviable. A lot of those drum-string duo’s knock around, but I always think they should get a guitarist, or a bassist, or ratchet things up to a trio at least!

But what if you can make a record all by yourself? Surely then, you can make a sustainable leaving from even a modicum of success? 

Not likely. 

Many troubadours follow a tradition of playing most instruments on their records, just as Macca did for his post-Beatles debut solo album in 1970. It was a sort-of home made record. Apart from some vocal contributions from Linda, McCartneyis a one-man show, with Sir Paul doing everything, maybe just because he could, or perhaps out of necessity. At that time, he was probably skint, the Beatles’ business deals and finances being what they were. But then McCartney was a no. 1 album, and the rest is history. 

I mulled this when browsing the sleeve notes of English singer-songwriter Marika Hackman’s album Big Sigh. Marika was my latest guest on The Art of Longevity. She wrote and produced the record but is credited with vocals, guitar, piano, drums, percussion, synths, bass and sarangi. I didn’t even know what that last one was, until my editor chimed in:

“FYI a sarangi is an Indian stringed instrument used quite heavily in a lot of traditional Punjabi music as well as other northern parts of the country. It's a very emotive instrument”.

Thanks Harminder Dhanjal! (a brilliant editor he is too). 

Big Sigh wasn’t done on the cheap, however. It has horn players, a string section, and well known producer Charlie Andrew on engineering duties. A supporting cast of a dozen other key players. It shows. The arrangements are superb. Every listen reveals something new. Keep listening and your favourite songs will shuffle around changing places like a game of musical chairs. That’s Big Sigh. A record such as this, in 2024, can reach a fleeting and lofty height of number 67 on the UK chart. 

So what’s wrong with the system here?

“Everything gets put on the little guy. Why has it become about artists and fans rather than labels driving the commerce? There should be a mutual respect between artist and fan, do they really want to see me on a selfie cam sending out a faceless message?”

This was a revelation to me, because a lot of industry actors (me included) have claimed that artists should indeed go their own way and run their own SMEs. As Nerina Pallot* said on the podcast back in Season 4: “get the fuck out of the way of me and my fans” (she was speaking mostly about record labels, not other industry actors).

But is that fair? Some artists want to make and perform music, leaving the commerce and marketing to others - labels and distributors. Just, you know, cut them a better deal while you are at it. 

Publishing advances, tour support, record label advances, tour fees. These can be a lifeline for real deal, developing artists. But once those stop, it’s down to them and only them. Consider, then - for the vast majority of established singer-songwriters - it’s essentially one person i.e. the troubadour, funding and paying everybody else. 

With great talent comes too much responsibility. On The Art of Longevity we’ve had John Grant, Alela Diane, Laura Veirs, Ed Harcourt, Ron Sexsmith and many more fine singer-songwriters opening up about their restricted finances and frustration at not being able to take a full band on tour. There’s only so much a multi-talented, multi-album, multi award-winning troubadour can do. 

As Marika also says:

“It’s hard to break that ceiling to that next level - where it can run by itself - you need people to invest in you over the longer term, not just for one tour. As artists we need to value ourselves more. We need to stop showing the industry that we are worthless. There can’t be an industry without us”. 

Something has to change. The music industry needs to transform itself from a system into an ecosystem. Instead of the beast of big tech and big business feeding off of the artists efforts, can they be persuaded towards a more sustainable way of putting food on the table for all.

The troubadour is more than an entertainer at the banquet.

---

Nerina Pallot footnote. So, after two decades as a ‘modestly successful’ (i.e. financially struggling but brilliant) singer-songwriter, Nerina Pallot brought her classic 2005 album ‘Fires’ to the grand stage of London’s Palladium last evening (April 13). It was a triumph. The 2,100 capacity Palladium was packed to the rafters and the show (full band plus 10-piece orchestra) was an epic wonder. Every one of her fans would have known how much Nerina fretted about ticket sales, whether anyone would come etc. But a fun fact was that the merch stall queues were snaking through the Palladium corridors. When Nerina (a one woman musical SME if ever there was one) thanked her “Head of Retail” (I think that means the person who works on her merch stand) the cheering and applause was equal to any of the musicians on the stage. Bravo.

When will the singer-songwriter thrive again? 

It can and must be done.

My ears are not oysters; an essay about music listening in 2024

I’m going to just check something - hold on a moment please. Okay, so I just went into my Spotify library to check how many new albums, released in 2024, I have yet to actually play. More than 20 already and it’s only April. If I have not listened to those albums by now, chances are I never will. This is why I occasionally delete everything downloaded in my Spotify library - the equivalent of clearing the clutter. Every time, I find it incredibly hard to be so brutal - all those neglected, unplayed albums. 

Why am I saying this?

By way of a prelude to the most controversial idea I’ve ever had; I intend to listen to less music from now on.

Two things triggered this decision, although it’s been brewing for a while. Firstly this piece by Mil Hoornaert on stopping listening to music altogether. That’s obviously bad advice and far too extreme and impractical for me but it did make me think. It encouraged me to re-evaluate my current relationship with music and how it has become…unhealthy. I could certainly do without songs going ‘round in my head when I wake up in the morning. 

Then, on Friday, I sat down to review the week's new album releases as I always do. And the glut of new records was overwhelming. Each and every week seems to bring half-a-dozen albums I want to hear. It doesn’t make sense to buy them all on vinyl, even though this is the only way to guarantee a proper listen. I will barely have the opportunity to sample them all on streaming. I’m still catching up on new releases so far this year. They are piling up on me like unread books, unworn new clothes and new recipes I’ll never get to cook. It’s anxiety inducing. Hence my prelude…time to spring clean. 

On top of all this, consider:

1. I’d really love to discover a new album by a new artist, yet the choice is so dizzying, I’m not sure who to choose or where to begin? I’ve made an appointment with the Fabiana Palladino debut record (since it has taken over a decade to make and sounds like Prince, apparently). I just hope I can keep it.

2. My guilty pleasure, the rock band Feeder, just went and made things worse by releasing Black/Red, a DOUBLE album (I mean, what were they thinking!).

3. I cannot stop listening to the new Everything Everything album. This is a good thing, but reduces the time available for all my other ‘listening goals’.

And another thing, for every guest that joins me on The Art of Longevity, I listen to the entire back catalogue at least once. I understand that’s a professional obligation. The interesting thing about it though, is that it is a real pleasure. In the environment we’re talking about here, the firehose of endless music, it’s most unlikely I will discover a new artist and then pursue a completist approach to their back catalogue. There isn’t time. The flip side of that coin is new music by my favourite old artists…should one bother when you can spend guaranteed quality time with their classics? Again, it’s a dilemma. 

That’s not to mention all the movies I would like to see and books I’d like more time to read. I can never, ever, become a gamer, clearly. And I should’t forget too that it’s good to sometimes not fill my head with something. 

In my 20s, I was a film obsessive. I kept a notebook with lists of all the films I wanted to see. It became maddening, because seeing them all was impossible (for one thing, I’ve never understood what the film industry does with all those good films…where do they go to?). In the end I abandoned the notebook and let my completist needs go. These days, I only watch movies occasionally, and as a result, I choose carefully and mostly enjoy every film I watch. 

In my 30s I read obsessively, especially related to anything music - album and gig reviews, business stuff and artist interviews. It became so much it overwhelmed me, filling my head with mostly useless information. So I had to stop, mostly to stay sane but also to enjoy paying more attention to what I did choose to read. 

That’s where I’ve got to with music. I want to savour it, not filter it. My ears are not oysters.  

Self-imposed scarcity is now a necessity. As spring gets into full bloom, it means morning dog walks without shutting myself off with headphones. It means taking my meals without background music (maybe even outside, in nature). It means working without the background music (Oh no, what do I do about BBC 6 Music?). It means choosing BBC Radio 4 or World Service in the car, instead of habitually firing up Spotify before I even start the car. Essentially it means not having a constant soundtrack to my life. It will mean letting many more new records pass me by and that’s the hardest part. Plus the under-appreciated catalogue, the blind spots by classic artists (a lot of them) but most of all, new releases by new artists.

It almost certainly means no playlists, no streaming radio and no alternative mixes and ‘mood music’, because that is truly drinking from a firehose that is getting wider and wider, before AI has even got started. 

Changes in the music industry seem to reflect my own micro concerns. Record companies have been worried about competition from the never ending supply of DIY artists but now they are even more concerned about AI generated music, which will truly fill every possible pipe with almost acceptable functional music. Even if a lot of it really is garbage, tech platforms will not hesitate to push the button, so get ready…it’s coming. Already as a result of new deals between the majors and streaming platforms, thousands of “bad tracks” are being removed. It seems like putting a windbreak up to stop a tidal wave though.

None of that is my problem. I only ever play music from real humans. Not only real humans but real artists - the people I respect the most on this Earth. 

There may be other options. Perhaps we should approach albums more like movies - a mostly single event experience. But that doesn’t optimise music’s best quality - the heady mix of familiarity and discovery of something new with each listen. Also, it wouldn’t help remunerate artists in the already dysfunctional economic model that brings us all this music. Or, we could treat an album like a game and just play it on heavy rotation over and over for say, a month, and then move on to the next. That means essentially focussing on 12 albums per year. 

The solution is somewhere in-between; accepting that most new album plays will in fact be a sampling session, but then picking out a choice few titles that will come to be annual, or maybe even lifelong favourites. 

Truth is, I don’t know what this new listening landscape will be like. But it will free up more quiet time, to watch a few more movies again (maybe some of those films about music, perhaps). Even time to…talk to other people! Somehow of course, time has to be set aside to play those all-time favorite records, before I actually, like, die. 

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By the way, that Fabiana Palladino album is excellent. I ended up putting it on while writing this, darn it. Seems I am not yet quite ready to be cured.

ENHANCING THE ALBUM: CLASSIC ALBUM SUNDAYS

I had the pleasure of attending a recent Classic Album Sundays event (on a Monday) and enjoyed it a lot. Here is a short review in the spirit of my current theme of what it takes to make a classic album. In this case, one made in 1974!

Do we really ever listen to records the way we used to? Despite the ever-rising popularity of vinyl and the resilience of the album format, I doubt there is a corresponding rise in ‘focused listening’ at home - the idea of putting the record on, sitting back on the sofa and just - listening. 

There are a few ‘experience brands’ out there that make an event out of doing just that but away from home. I’ve written about Pitchblack Playback before, here I’m going to talk about Classic Album Sundays. It was founded by DJ Colleen ‘Cosmo’ Murphy way back in 2010 in a North London pub, with the intention of promoting enjoyment of true listening as the age of digital music began to take hold. According to the website, Classic Album Sundays “tells the stories behind the albums that have shaped our culture.”

It does so incredibly well. I’ve been to a few of these events over the years but just recently I attended a session on one of my all-time favourite albums, Supertramp’s 1974 masterpiece Crime Of The Century. A lush staging at the Elgar Rooms (on an otherwise dormant evening at London’s Royal Albert Hall) was the perfect setting for a jovial, relaxed but informative chat between host Colleen and the album’s producer Ken Scott (a legend in the world of sound design). 

The two had clearly done this routine a few times before. The best thing though, was anticipating hearing a classic album through a pair of incredibly high end KEF speakers. No surround sound or fancy spatial mixes (though sometimes those events are cool as well). Instead, Colleen rocks up to a turntable and simply drops the needle on the vinyl (and again to turn the record over to side two). 

If you do not know the album you are missing out. Crime Of The Century is an epic journey of a record, despite being only eight songs long. It achieves a similar feel to, say, Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of The Moon and indeed explores the same themes - isolation, detachment, mental health - very much the darker side of human existence from the perspective of youth. 

My favourite insight here was of the unusual sound effects for the album which were recorded live from real locations - a London School and Paddington Station among them (the announcement included station stops where both Roger Hodgson and Rick lived at the time). The track Hide In Your Shell contained a professional musical saw player. When asked what he was proud of about his work on the album, Scott was simple and clear. “Depth. These days with spatial audio and all that, you can easily achieve depth - but back then it was much harder. But I wanted to get the depth even with a stereo recording”. Well, he certainly achieved it, as we witnessed through those awesome loudspeakers.

Classic Album Sundays makes you realise the amount of work that goes into making an album (all the records are de facto, classics) by both accident and design. The little insights fascinate. Scott spent his first two days on the record just trying to get the right drum sound. The band’s gear was “well worn, having been on the road a lot”. As such, that old kit was part of the album’s DNA. 

These events are a way of getting insider stories about the artists too. Supertramp’s joint leaders and songwriters Roger Hodgson and Rick Davies had a famous falling out that led the band to irrevocable break up. But in those earlier days, they blended beautifully. Scott compared the two to Lennon (Davies) and McCartney (Hodgson, “a partnership, they were together but separate at the same time”). They were that good. Most of all it reminds you to listen, both as a fan, an appreciator of the art form, and, as a mindful activity - a sort of antidote to the usual distractions you get at home. 

I came away from the evening having made a renewed vow to make regular appointments to listen to my favourite records all over again, mostly in the comfort and convenience of my own home but perhaps occasionally out in a social setting and special environment. Spotify is doing a classic album series featuring editors talking shop about their favourites, but it would be much better for the brand or other streaming services to lean in more fully and sponsor events like this. Well worth the modest ticket price and an alternative to a live show.

Colleen Murphy interviews Ken Scott

Classic Album Sundays is on the internet too

Post Pitchfork - five ways for music journalism to survive

Since the news of Pitchfork “folding” into GQ magazine in early January, a few people have asked me what I think about it. I’ve read a few of the eulogies and share the sad sentiment of most of them, but I’m generally more optimistic about the role and future of music writers. Sort of. Here, I’m summing up five ways in which music writing can survive (and by that, I mean thrive) and I mention a few of my own favourite music editorial brands.

Photo by Simon Noh on Unsplash

We cannot put the genie back in the bottle when it comes to the commercial viability of music magazines. Pitchfork was really the last music media ‘empire’. It grew from a humble blog into a multi-revenue music media business, eventually succumbing to an acquisition by an unlikely mothership in Conde Naste, at a time when that company desperately needed ‘digital first’ media properties.

No other music media brand has succeeded on any significant scale since. 

The short version of the story is that Pitchfork had its day. Its heyday lasted well over a decade - not a bad run, even compared with legendary music media brands of the golden age of music journalism, like Rolling Stone or NME. Pitchfork’s digital presence made it more than just an editorial brand, however. It became a destination for music lovers, aficionados and obsessives, and eventually outgrew its original “white male hipster” tone of voice to become more inclusive and diverse.

And then got a bit too big for its boots. In some cases it became a concern for artists that had been “built on Pitchfork” (with famous 8.something review scores) but who could also be then subsequently marked down, or snubbed altogether. Mind you, the point of music media coverage is that it cannot keep on writing about every artist, but be a curated source of discerning taste and discovery - and perhaps more importantly - a way of enjoying a deeper connection to music and artists. But those infamous review scores (still a central feature of Pitchfork even now) matter much less in today’s music economy. As reviews waned in relevance, all of Pitchfork’s various income streams probably just withered away gradually. 

So now, can “niche” media thrive? In music’s case, it looks unlikely, some examples of music brands I like: She Shreds, a ‘magazine’ built around the growing community of female guitarists, is a great concept, but seems to have struggled to find a solid format. At one time, it was a physical magazine but is now essentially a blog with a focus more on YouTube videos (“She Shreds TV”) than the written word. Loud & Quiet seems to have sustained a physical format magazine through a subscription model and merch store - wryly with a strapline ‘moderately successful’. Its “Midnight Chats” podcast seems to have become established as a long-term show. 

This first way to succeed then, is to move away from the written word as the central focus, to video or audio (podcast) first. At least that way, there is distribution, by way of the usual giant social media and streaming platforms. 

Goldflake Paint, The Quietus and many more - all had moments of relevance (on a much smaller scale than Pitchfork) but could not find viability beyond being blogs with Patreon style funding and a bit of ad revenue (though The Quietus successfully diversified into artist management). 

Personally I love So Young. It is a UK-based ‘zine’ built around the resurgence of guitar bands. On a modest scale, it has built a community, subscriber base, (another) cool merch brand, and has branched out into a small label and live music booking agency. If it does well with the artists it represents, and those artists continue to value it and pay back those favours, it could grow into something relevant. It is the commercialisation of a cultural scene. Viable, albeit on a smaller scale. An so here is the second way - quickly build your media brand or zine into a ‘real business’ - talent management or a record label, for example. 

So Young Magazine issue 47 cover

Meanwhile, post Pitchfork, what constitutes dream press for an artist? I recently posed this question to Martin Courtney of New Jersey indie ‘stalwarts’ Real Estate and his answer was revealing: “I guess a spread in the New Yorker - something that reached a new and interesting audience for us”.

Well, Sir Lucian Grange is already ahead of the curve on that one. In which case the future of music journalism is perhaps, to be subsumed into broader literary and lifestyle titles. Just like Pitchfork and GQ. And so this is the third way: music writing incorporated within larger media brands, from The New Yorker to Waitrose Weekend magazine (or my favourite, McSweeney’s The Believer music issue). I saw something recently on social media about the imminent relaunch of Q Magazine. Perhaps it should actually be launched as the editorial sub-brand within Amazon Music, Apple Music or even as part of a news media empire (if there are any left). 

Meanwhile, film writing seems to have all the same issues as music, but has a few more innovative solutions. After a decade in existence, the music buff app Letterboxd seems to be gaining traction among young audiences beyond aficionados. So this is a fourth way - to mix up pro journalism with UGC and fan community content i.e. go the way of the app. I even tried something similar to this myself with The Song Sommelier (where you are reading this) - having music super fans write and curate alongside professional journalists. It’s still a thing, potentially. 

Commercial viability and income streams remain a challenge for all four routes. 

But I mentioned a fifth as well I think?

Well, while music journalism suffers chronic illness, you might have noticed that the ‘music business’ is rampant, with major labels making millions of dollars a day. A few years ago Warner Music acquired a media brand (Uproxx). [N.B. just a few days after I wrote this, WMG announced it was effectively jettisoning Uproxx and “owned and operated” media, so I guess this final option is indeed the way to go, as an alternative, read on]. UMG owns the UMusic Media Network, describing it as “a comprehensive media and data offering to uniquely connect brands and partners with exclusive media from world’s largest music company and most iconic and influential artists”.

Even if, like me, you cannot quite figure out what that means, the point is that labels and artists need music press. Artists love to get press - it may be less effective than a playlist add or TikTok viral moment, but it is validation, affirmation, depth. But rather than ‘own’ somewhat compromised media brands, why don’t labels use all their streaming catalogue money to invest in the music media outlets out there? Buy their ads, sponsor some paid content, invest (again UMG recently invested in indie radio network NTS in  a low key but important way). While music press should enjoy editorial independence, look around. How much established news coverage and features in national premium news is “paid content”?  

So music journalism is able to survive in different forms. It feels like it is possible to create new platforms for music discussion, discovery and enjoyment - perhaps just not in the form of branded multi-feature music magazines.

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The Art of Longevity podcast Season 9 preview with Real Estate, is out released in early February 2024.

SUCCESS AND LONGEVITY IN MUSIC: BUILDING QUIET LEGEND

It’s not a new debate, but like you, I often wonder about who might be tomorrow’s music legends? Which of today’s artists can stand on the shoulders of giants…will London’s Wolf Alice blossom into something as big and as important as Radiohead? Could Dublin’s Fontaines D.C. become modern heirs to U2? Might Jorja Smith be as big as Adele? Is Gerry Cinnamon a new kind of Bobby Dylan? Is Sam Fender a potential successor to Springsteen?

You might think all these examples are unlikely, maybe rightly. The fact is, both the music business and modern culture have changed too much for any band or artist to hold ambitions to be “the best in the world” (even if that industry award still exists somewhere). The top slots are taken. And, those slots are held for far, far longer. Taylor Swift isn’t going anywhere. Indeed, those top slots don’t really even exist anymore, such is the crowded world we live in, in which every artist competes on three levels:

1. Themselves.

2. Their contemporaries, and;

3. All the world’s existing content!

This idea of competition among artists is deeply fascinating to me. After all, the ‘music industry’ is designed to make artists compete with one another. The charts - still a central obsession for major label marketers, is a league table - a pure competition. Getting onto a playlist is a competition. TikTok virality sits outside these as a phenomenon, but the fact that everyone would like the benefits from it but so very few achieve it, makes that a competition also. To an artist it can feel like every song they put out is simply an entry ticket into yet another competition where the prize is some kind of established music industry marker. 

The thing with competitions is that the vast majority of entrants are set up to fail. So, if you don’t make the charts, or get on a playlist with your latest release, or get an award nomination this year, you have de facto, ‘failed’. Certainly you will have disappointed your label reps who will now find it that much harder to pitch you both externally and internally. 

Setting goals in this environment seems futile and yet any artist needs to understand their own definition of success. How will you know what you create is good enough?

The competitive music industry can make many artists feel like they are not as good as they actually are. My suggestion is to focus on building your own Quiet Legend. That’s what the guests on The Art of Longevity Season 8 have all done. 

Merseyside’s Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark never quite got to the heights of Depeche Mode or Tears For Fears in their heyday, nor did they achieve the lofty status of their own icons Kraftwerk. But look what they have created. They have iconic hits, one of the best electronic pop albums of the 80s and more recently, a run of albums that complete a varied, ambitious and distinctive catalogue. And now a fine new album, Bauhaus Staircase, may see the band achieve some new heights. No wonder they are enjoying their careers as much as ever after 45 years. 

Part of the next generation of indie bands coming up in the streaming era, Montreal’s Half Moon Run are achieving another kind of quiet legend. How does a band with no hits to speak of, albums that don’t chart and a virtually unrecognisable name (Half Moon who?) make a viable living after a decade in the game? Being brilliant appears to be the answer, mostly. Work as hard on your songs and performance as Half Moon Run does, and enough fans will follow you to the ends of the earth. But now, they have made a classic album - Salt is the best thing I’ve heard in ages. A classic album is an important stop on the quiet legend trail. 

Toronto’s Metric arrived in turn-of-20th Century New York City to join a hot scene of indie-rock that included White Stripes, The Strokes, Interpol and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Emily Haines said something very interesting to me about this. She said that the ‘invisibility is important to the idea [of not having a hit record] in that it is foundational”. 

Zach Condon of Beirut is both amused and bemused by the band’s relative success on streaming platforms, not recognising most of the other songs and bands he is juxtaposed with on those playlists. But then his whole career has not been one of following the music industry conventional forms. Instead, Beirut has always found an alternative route. 

Whether you have the hit, get on the charts and the playlist, or go viral with a song, you must ensure those events are foundational - that you build upon them. Otherwise, it’s ephemeral. Here today, gone tomorrow. Possibly even detrimental. 

Want to have longevity and success in music? A quiet legend should be your goal. 

The good news is, a blueprint is available. Here is your checklist’:

1. Forget about being very good - get great live. Practice your songs, your performance, sound, setlist, stories, your craft and leave your conscious self as soon as you take the stage. Your live shows are what lingers in the memory of your fans. Live performance matters more than anything else. 

2. Remember your roots - that’s where your fanbase and your legend starts - a sense of place. Where you grew up, moved to and made your mark, where you first got traction. These places are first to work, work, work and lay foundations for your legend. 

3. Strive for a classic. Make at least one classic album and your legend is, almost, secured. What is a classic? It’s harder to measure it these days, but you will know once you are asked to play it live back-to-back and enough people buy the tickets to sell out a venue of any size. 

4. Be useful. Your music lifts people, it is therapy for some people. It will cheer them up, protect them from harm and give them strength and power. Just by connecting with people on this level, you're going beyond ‘entertainment’ and into art. And artists become legends when entertainers do not.

5. Forget about fame. You don’t have to become a household name. Solange and SZA are not household names anyway and try asking your neighbours if they know who Post Malone is. Nobody knows the music industry’s biggest artists any more. Those people who are interested in what you do - they are your people. Nurture your fan base - they love you and root for you, they will bring friends and family to shows, they will be your street team if you ask nicely.

6. Take your time. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither is legend. It’s one project after the other, one tour after the other, one step at a time. Forget about attachments to industry markers - these may come and go, they go up, they go down - but your quiet legend keeps on growing.

7. Channel your influences with respect not reverence - ‘alter the DNA’ of what they made before and meld those influences old and new, into music that is uniquely you. Legend is singular, but you may climb on those shoulders.

8. Keep your eyes & ears wide open - there’s nothing like riding the crest of a wave. NYC alternative indie scene in the early 2000s, the South London jazz scene of the 2020s, the post-punk guitar resurgence - ride it but add something to it - make the wave higher and longer. Find the wave that you can make a contribution to and make a difference to that scene or genre. That’s where you can create a legacy even early on in your career.

The most viable commercial strategy for any artist in today’s music business is to build their own fan community. Get anyone in the middle to either help you or get the fuck out of the way. Build the community - My Morning Jacket has One Big Family. The National has its army of Sad Dads. Why waste your time and resources on anybody else except those who are interested and want to be part of the world you are creating.

And there is your manifesto for quiet legend!

NATIONAL ALBUM DAY 2023: Alice In Chains 1992 stone cold classic ‘Dirt’

There’s nothing like music to take you back. Some 30 years ago (at the start of my professional career) I was what you might call an angry young man. Music has always imbibed me with a kind of fuel and at that particular time it was the music of Alice In Chains, which was fuelling my anger rather nicely. 

Back in 1992 I was on some major IT systems project for an energy company, in the employ of Andersen Consulting, the behemoth now known as Accenture. I was sharing a flat with a studious American called Floyd and a conscientious, ambitious young lady called Heidi, neither of whom could make head nor tail of me or my anger issues. 

To Floyd & Heidi, that project was the place to be, the pinnacle of professional assignments. To me it sucked. So much so, I would start my days with a loud blast of Alice In Chains’ ‘Dirt’ (I’m talking LOUD and before 8 am too). I must have been the flatmate from hell. Belated apologies Floyd & Heidi wherever you are. Although Heidi, I will ever forgive you for showing me a spreadsheet with a list of names on whose jobs were on the chopping block. Like I said, it sucked. 

For those unfamiliar, Dirt is a stone cold classic. It is unforgiving, relentless, driving, bleak, but at the same time as melodic as rock gets. It was my album of the year (I used to keep a top 20 list) and over time has become my de facto “album of the 90s”. 

So for National Album Day 2023 with its 90s theme, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do to pop along to my local record shop, Roan Records Teddington and buy the remastered reissue. Listening session is now highly anticipated. Although these days I am no longer so angry (and not so young either). 

Here are some highlights from Dirt:

1. Would. The most thrilling, hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck metal song, ever. I first heard it on the Tommy Vance Friday Rock Show and when I did, I knew it was totally different to anything else I’d ever heard, and I grew up on rock & metal. 

2. Jerry Cantrell. The band’s songwriter, lead guitarist and co-lead/harmony vocalist. Cantrell's guitar playing often uses the wah-wah and follows off-kilter time signatures but most of all - he uses down-tuned open stringed chords that put him in the club with Tony Iommi and other great rock players. And, he is melodious. He’s a genius. 

3. Layne Staley’s lead vocals. Layne had what is called in the music trade ‘a signature voice’. One that screamed pain, melancholy, anger and yet soared. His harmonising with guitarist/vocalist Jerry Cantrell made Alice In Chains sound utterly unique. The fact that the band found a way to replace him (after his death in 2002) is a miracle. 

4. Rooster. Possibly the best rock song ever about Vietnam, Cantrell wrote it for his war veteran Dad. It virtually takes you deep into the hell of the jungle. It actually feels dangerous to listen to. 

5. Them Bones. When I first bought my copy of Dirt and put it on the CD player, Them Bones frightened me. I wasn’t sure if I was equal to the record if that makes sense. I thought it was going to be too hardcore for me. Yet I grew to love it - all two and a half angry urgent minutes of it. As an opener, it is one hell of a statement. 

6. Dave Jerden’s production and Brian Carlstrom’s sound engineering. I’m not technical and can’t say my ears are finely tuned, but I think the very best rock records always owe something to the studio teams. In this case, the sludgey, dirgey and heavy chords and riffs don’t completely drown the record, they are equal in the mix with the vocals and rhythm section. It’s actually a very balanced listen that makes it accessible. 

7. Rain When I Die. Jerry Cantrell writes some monster riffs, and this one is an absolute beast. It’s King Kong and Godzilla. 

8. Down In A Hole. A superb, bleak-as-anything ballad that shifts the album’s pace - takes things down a notch. Brilliant. 

9. Angry Chair. A spooky and dark thing that comes from the “scary verse to soaring chorus” song school, it should be on anyone’s half-decent Halloween movie soundtrack playlist. 

10. The album's cover art. The cover features a young woman half-buried in a cracked desert landscape. It is photographed by Rocky Schenck, who created the image along with the album's art director, Mary Maurer. It’s scary and depicts the album’s contents very well indeed. Even in the CD era, it is a classic ‘metal’ album cover. 

Dirt’s legend has grown steadily over three decades. Michael Christopher of PopMatters wrote "the record wasn't celebratory by any means – but you'll be hard pressed to find a more brutally truthful work laid down – and that's why it will always be one of the greatest records ever made."

I would imagine the making of the record was fraught. Staley was recently out of rehab but back on heroin and drummer Sean Kinney and bassist Mike Starr were also struggling with alcohol addiction. Recording began during the Los Angeles riots that erupted following the acquittal of four LAPD officers who had beaten Rodney King. Yet the band was clearly on a huge creative streak and had matured since their 1990 debut album Facelift. The drug addiction at the heart of the album’s subject core gave the record a concept album feel.

Nobody should ever say drugs and addiction make for great records and the idea of suffering for art’s sake is usually total bunk. However, Dirt remains an exception. A stone cold classic. 

Pushing the album to its limits

I’m writing up my experience listening to Christine & The Queens new album with Pitchblack Playback - which I thoroughly recommend to all music fans

We live in a visual world of short form video, of TikTok and Instagram scrolls - almost permanent nagging distractions and a conveyor belt instant gratification. Much of this applies to our relationship with music. If you follow enough artists, you can feel like you are consuming their work without ever actually listening to their records. 

Yet music albums were designed to be the polar opposite of this. Albums are meant to be an immersive, focused experience. The only distraction should be to get off the sofa and turn the record over. This is the ethos of Pitchblack Playback. The British curation and experience brand encourages music fans to “hear classic (and new) albums & exclusive pre-release premieres on powerful, immersive sound systems, in the dark”. Founded way back in 2006, the brand survived the pandemic to expand into a global presence.

Listening to whole albums from start to finish in almost complete darkness (augmented courtesy of a free eye mask - which can make you feel like you are about to take a long haul flight) might sound challenging when you consider the times we live in, but it is a refreshingly fun experience. 

This most recent event was one of a series by Pitchblack that celebrates the best albums of 2023. The event was held in partnership with L-ACOUSTICS Creations at the brand's Highgate listening room. 

This meant we were about to hear the record in a completely different way, via L ACOUSTIC’s 18.12.1 sound system, comprising 18 highly responsive Syva speakers, 12 ambient speakers in the room’s ceiling and then bottomed out with 24 subs-woofers. However, the combined 50,000 watts of power never sounds too loud or overbearing in this room, which is something to be appreciated. We (around 25 lucky musos) were greeted with a free drink and ushered in, each anticipative listener issued with their own beanbag & headrest.

And so to the record in question: Christine & The Queens’ most recent release PARANOIA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE. Now this happens to be one of my personal choices of the year and will feature prominently in our Song Sommelier ’Decanted’ for 2023. 

The album is sonically incredible anyhow, so how would it sound rendered in spatial audio in the dark? As one happy listener remarked during the interval (it is a 96 minute long record) the answer is “a real treat”.

There isn’t a minute of this record I don’t love. Across its 20 tracks, it has fine arrangements and comes together as a concept album (in my own fantasy, it’s as if George Michael recorded the soundtrack to Blade Runner 3).

However, remarkably, the record really consists of four sonic elements: bass, voice, beats and synth. Via the medium of L ACOUSTICS systems, each of those elements is given a massive shot of Compound V.

The bass isn’t just deep, it is heart-palping and body-vibrating. However, it is never threatening but always warm and welcome - like a cuddle from a friendly alien life force.

Christine’s voice is sharp and clear, with the spoken word elements on songs such as the extraordinary “Track 10” particularly striking (the same goes for Madonna’s spoken cameos on two tracks, which are very Blade Runner-esque). 

Meanwhile the drumming is incredible. Performed by Darren King on the record, the mix here adds a depth to his work that surprises and delights (and stops you falling asleep which is hard to resist under the circumstances). 

Finally the synths and sonic effects on the album are given added spatial dimension without adding anything gimmicky.

The occasion does transform you. It either has your mind wandering pleasantly or, at its best, simply lost in the music. The Pitchblack Playback rituals (including an introduction and pep talk by Founder Ben Gomori) provide an excuse to be disciplined about actually listening and doing nothing else (it should come with a ‘just you try this at home’ warning).

It’s well worth a modest ticket price. As an alternative to a movie, theatre, gig or night out eating & drinking it stands up very well if you’re a music fan. And it might just be more memorable if you get the right record, so make an evening of it.

On its release, PARANOIA, ANGELS, TRUE LOVE was (bafflingly) received by critics with mixed reviews. Helen Brown of The Independent summarised the album as "requiring serious investment on the listener's part". But Helen forgot to mention the payback.

They should all have gone along to this and eaten their words during the interval.

What do artists really know about the music business?

It is common knowledge that artists haven’t always been treated well by the music business, particularly when it comes to contracts and commercial terms. And the rest. There are plenty of horror stories about bad deals and shabby, ulterior or questionable motives of those in executive positions. Of course, there is a flip side and many artists remain eternally grateful for the work done by their labels, managers and publishers. 

It’s also true that artists these days are much more informed, savvy and proactive about the business side of the equation, and that the balance of power has tipped in their favour. Well, partly it has. The topic of remuneration from recordings in the streaming era remains an unsolvable and out of reach problem for music artists. Right now, a dollar or two on the price of a music subscription or experiments with “artist centric” payment models are not exactly game changers.

The writers and actors strikes in the USA appear to demonstrate a far more direct and powerful force in the film industry than the Musicians Union could hope to galvanise against the might of music’s distribution infrastructure.

Again, old news. 

But is part of the problem a collective, historical failure by musicians to understand the business they are in? If that was the case, it almost certainly isn’t now. Artists know their business extremely well for the most part - in many cases better than executives do. This is because they know their fans, just as a good brand might know its customers. 

A couple of years ago I set out to talk to artists - famous ones - about the music business. About music of course, but also about money, formats, fans and the expectations they have from their partners - managers, publishers, labels, lawyers. We touch on these subjects on The Art of Longevity - and usually its artists that bring it up! Or, a simple question like “what has streaming done for you?” will glean all manner of interesting responses. 

Take Corey Taylor, who we interviewed for the 50th episode. 

The metal renaissance man and purveyor of no less than three music projects of sustained commercial success (Slipknot, Stone Sour and the CMF himself!) was well aware of the recent streaming rates (in the USA) increased by the Copyright Royalty Board. He knew immediately that streaming had benefited the metal genre by making it easier to find, yet is partly responsible for taking away the livelihood of metal musicians through pushing the genre into the hinterlands, compared with pop music. He also knows another distribution system will replace the current one, eventually. The CMF knows his shit when it comes to the music business! In that regard, he is not exceptional (in almost every other regard he most definitely is). 

Over & over, through 50 in-depth conversations, I’ve found artists to be articulate, informed and often ahead in their thinking about the business side of music. Of course, any artist should know about the structure of the music biz. They should know the basics of copyright and how to read a royalty statement (and how to make sure they actually have one). 

But my guests on the Art of Longevity have shown real insights and wisdom about understanding fans, marketing and of course, creators’ somewhat diminished position in the music industry value chain. They get it. And they want to fix it. 

If I could leave a legacy in the business, it would be to play a role in seeing artist-centric models fly. What the hell does that mean? It means that the next generation of music legends will have a chance of becoming just that - legends. Even if their legend is a quieter, more subtle version than that we’ve had so far. 

As we prepare for Season 8, here is a short summary of what has impressed me most about what artists really know about the music business from those first 50 conversations:

1. That real success is making fans happy, recognition from peers (and ticket sales would be nice). Those come above chart positions, awards and streaming counts. 

2. That direct-to-fan makes money and makes you feel good, removing the barriers between you and your fans is a worthwhile endeavour. 

3. That you should always have a close inner circle. They will keep you grounded. And staying grounded is key to longevity and making a living from what you love. 

4. Labels are important, still. Don’t let your label off the hook, but keep your expectations about what a record deal will deliver in check. 

5. Streaming is a double-edged sword. It is more of a promotion than a paycheck. Embrace it, don’t chase it. 

6. Engaging with marketing and promotion will help your career, not hinder it. Marketing and promotion are not dirty words. If you want to enjoy them more, get involved and be more choosy about what you decide to do - and then do it well. 

7. Artists who network, pay attention to industry trends, and collaborate with other experienced artists have a better understanding of how the business works and can learn from sharing experiences and mistakes.

8. One music project is not enough to make a good living. Being in a band might mean being in two bands, a solo career, a side hustle. Multi-task your way to longevity!

Quite a few industry executives and journalists told me that artists wouldn’t want to talk about the business side of music. Some don’t, but most absolutely do. All they need is a safe and comfortable place to do so. Some artists are naturally curious and interested in the business side of their careers, while others may prioritise their creative work and delegate business tasks to others. But all the guests have demonstrated impressive business savvy.

After all, the artists are the ones at the sharp end. They’re the ones who pay our salaries and fund our music ventures too, one way or another. 

Season 8 of The Art of Longevity begins shortly. 

For many bands, the hiatus can be the key to longevity

Following the highly accomplished 2012 album Heaven, cult American indie band The Walkmen went on a decade long hiatus. But now they have reformed. In a recent interview with the band’s frontman Hamilton Leithauser, Vulture magazine referred to the now infamously long career break by The Walkmen as “a particularly noticeable void”. I would go a lot further than that. I (and a million other fans) grieved the loss of The Walkmen, because in the indie landscape they offered something unique.

The Walkmen were a monogamous band, up until the break. None of the members did any solo projects, but dedicated themselves to the band they had formed together as young friends in their early 20s. As frontman Hamilton Leithauser told me recently on The Art of Longevity:

“We were caught in this marriage we couldn’t get out of”. 

Difficult Marriages don’t have to end in divorce. On this show, the idea of the hiatus as a healer of bands/marriages is not unusual. Tears For Fears were separated for 19 years. Suede for a decade - about the same as The Walkmen. Some bands announced a break-up (James even did the farewell tour) but others just go their separate ways and don’t make a song and dance about it. 

But it turns out the hiatus is a good thing. Those above named bands have come back in style. Critically revered new records, sold-out tours, renewed cultural relevance and most of all, younger audiences.

But the interesting thing is that culturally, these bands never really went away. And so it is with The Walkmen. Their songs and fandom lived on through the extended break - even grew in their absence. This is perhaps the true miracle of music in the streaming era. Hamilton and the others were surprised and delighted to return to playing shows to loyal audiences both old and new, the younger fans among them singing every word of those old songs. 

In the modern music biz, when the talk is of “always-on” creation, 24/7 content and acute FOMO, maybe the most valuable move a band can make is to not succumb to any of that, but to instead have the nerve and the confidence to do what’s necessary - even if that is nothing. Hamilton puts the stresses of modern day bands into perspective:

“It’s exhausting physically and mentally - in the long run. After you’ve done a bunch of records you think “do I really wanna do another rock & roll record, no I don’t think I do”, then it becomes about what you really want to do next”. 

Of course, there are risks to a hiatus, such as fans losing interest, band members growing apart, or facing challenges when trying to regain their momentum after a prolonged break. However, if managed well and used as an opportunity for growth and rejuvenation, a hiatus can be a positive thing for rock bands and their artistic journey.

A good management team will make the most of a band reclaiming and building on their legacy and cultural impact, while making a comeback schedule fun - something joyous for bands and fans alike.

The hiatus has a lot to offer:

Creative Rejuvenation: Musicians and artists, like any creative individuals, may experience burnout or creative fatigue after touring extensively and producing albums consistently. Making a living in the modern music business is relentless and not for the faint-hearted. Taking a break allows them to step back from it all, explore new influences, and find fresh inspiration. This can lead to a revitalized creative output when the comeback is on. For evidence, see Suede.

Individual Pursuits: During a hiatus, band members can choose to explore individual projects or collaborate with other artists. This can help them grow as musicians and contribute to the diversity of their skills, which can ultimately benefit the band when they reunite.

Avoiding Stagnation: Sometimes, bands can fall into a pattern of producing similar-sounding music over time. A hiatus provides an opportunity for members to reflect on their musical direction and come back with a more evolved and unique sound.

Building Anticipation: As the saying goes, "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Going on hiatus can create a sense of longing and anticipation among fans. When the band eventually returns, it can lead to increased interest, higher demand for concerts and albums, and a generally enthusiastic fan base. Streaming has undoubtedly made this process even more of an asset.

Preserving Legacy: Sometimes, bands choose to go on hiatus to preserve their legacy and avoid becoming irrelevant or oversaturated in the market. By stepping back for a while, they can maintain the impact and significance of their past work.

Five bands who benefitted from the hiatus (i.e. on the Art of Longevity future invitations list!):

a-ha: In 1994, the band unofficially entered a hiatus, during which band members focused on solo projects. They came back in 2000 with a fine album Minor Earth, Major Sky but later embarked on a farewell tour. After reforming in 2015 the band has embarked on several new projects and under excellent management, remain a powerful creative-commercial force.

Blink-182: Blink-182 went on hiatus in 2005 and returned in 2009 with a different lineup. They've experienced lineup changes and hiatus periods at different points in their career but their most recent tour has broken records for ticket sales and the band’s streaming count has doubled.

My Chemical Romance: After disbanding in 2013, My Chemical Romance announced their reunion in 2019. It has taken a while but new material is emerging from the band.

Rage Against the Machine: The metal/hip hop legends went on hiatus in 2000 and reunited for a few performances over the years. However, they announced another hiatus after their "L.A. Rising" show in 2011. They've reunited once again for tours and performances since then.

Fall Out Boy: Fall Out Boy announced an indefinite hiatus in 2009. They reunited in 2013 and have been active since then.

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This blog was aided by Chat GPT but checked and edited. The Walkmen were on The Art of Longevity episode 49!

For music fans, vinyl is the best way to commit

On a record shopping trip in Madrid, I recently purchased a vinyl copy of My Morning Jacket’s self-titled 9th studio album. It’s a fabulous record, as you might expect. As good as The Waterfall and its sequel The Waterfall II. As good as anything the band have done thus far. 

Why am I telling you this?

Because the album was released in October 2021. And I finally decided to purchase the vinyl in May 2023. My reasoning is thus:

I really love MMJ

I know I like this album - because I already streamed it

But I hadn’t streamed it nearly enough to get to know it

And I hadn’t streamed it all the way through

And, in all likelihood, I never would

In other words, if I didn’t choose to own this album on vinyl I would never get to know if it would become a record I love. 

The problem is well understood - the onslaught of endless music available on streaming takes away this sense of familiar, repeated listening that builds the connection between the listener and a record. Well, it does for me anyway. 

Streaming has its benefits. For everything to be previewable and available, music releases week-in-week-out are the gift that keeps on giving to us music fans. But the more I appreciate the world of music on vinyl, the more I recognise what streaming takes away. The only solution for me is the self-imposed scarcity and curation that comes through committing to own a collection. Even if that collection is a fraction of the music I get to hear, it will be the majority of the music I listen to most. 

I must say, the vinyl version of My Morning Jacket is so wonderfully packaged too. It comes in double-vinyl album form with a gatefold sleeve. It has beautiful artwork designed by Robert Beatty. It has a foldout poster of the cover in there (even if it doesn’t end up coming out of the sleeve, much). The inner sleeve of each disc has the lyrics on one side and all-important in-studio band photography on the other. It’s a cliche I know, but it is one of those albums that you put on and then stare at the cover while listening to it, true 70s style. It’s worth saying also that the listening experience is totally different. Played through a turntable, amp and decent speakers everything sounds much more like the artist probably intended when they made the record. 

So those are the listener/music buyer benefits, but just think too, of the benefits to the artist. An indie record exec recently told me that one of the label's bands made $25,000 revenue in a single ‘Bandcamp Friday’ weekend through vinyl sales alone. The equivalent amount would take over eight million streams, which would take a band like MMJ the best part of one year to achieve. 

Artists love vinyl because it is more economically viable but also because it feels like a format that is ‘becoming of the art’. The whole package makes a music album a worthwhile product - an affordable luxury. 

Now, I know vinyl isn’t affordable to everyone, I get that. However, it delights me that a vinyl collection and a record player are aspirations for younger music fans - millennials and genZs. The music industry might congratulate itself on reviving an old technology, but it has Netflix to thank to some extent. The streaming video service is much more a maker of trends than the music industry could hope to be, and just about every cool teen drama, from Stranger Things to Euphoria, features a scene in which a vinyl setup is the essential accessory of coolness. 

Back to My Morning Jacket. On the album, there is a track called Lucky To Be Alive, in which Jim James sings: 

The technology came and stole my living again
Ain't nobody buying records no more
Oh well, they cut off all the bread that used to keep us fed
So thanks for coming to the show

You know I ain't gonna crawl and I ain't gonna beg
I'm gonna write my own rules for life
And so I head out on the road, you know we gonna make it work
I feel lucky to be alive

Now when Jim wrote this back during the pandemic, it was before the shifting sands in the live music business. Once the lifeblood for many established music artists, touring has been hit by rising costs, falling ticket prices, lacklustre crowds, venue closures and visa problems. As such many bands cannot head out for the road to make decent money any more. 

The good news for Jim is that folks are buying records again. For one, I’m committed and many other music fans I know feel the same way. I don’t want to create a travesty of plastic and cardboard that sits on a shelf conspicuously (some of us are still recovering from the excessive CD era) but by choosing carefully, I’m happy to be playing every record I buy enough to justify the price. And let’s face it, there is plenty of choice out there and streaming a useful try-before-you-buy utility. 

In all sincerity, vinyl records have improved the quality of my life considerably. And we know these are sometimes not easy times to live through. I urge you to double down on your double albums. You won’t regret it. After all, music at its best makes us feel lucky to be alive. 

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In Madrid I shopped in Marilians

Buy a record today on Bandcamp

Listen to my conversation about the craft of the album with Ben Folds on The Art of Longevity

What does AI know about longevity in the music biz? Feat. Sir Elton John & Chat GPT.

I’m trying to knuckle down on Crossing The Rubicon Part 2: The Secrets to Longevity, but I haven’t had a minute to spare (that’s not a social media type brag, btw, just a fact of life). It’s on pause while it goes around and around in my head. There are no shortcuts. But then again, there is this new thing that has hijacked the music industry like nothing ever has before (except ‘the internet’): AI. So, one way to kick things off I thought, would be to ask ChatGPT how some music artists have lasted for decades in the music industry? 

I have to say, the answers were pretty damn good and worth pondering on reflection. With The Art of Longevity now fast approaching fifty episodes, does the accumulated wisdom of the internet agree with my own findings from the conversations on the podcast?

Here is a quick summary of what AI has to say on the subject, word-for-word:

There are several reasons why some music artists are able to sustain long careers in the music industry, despite the challenges of the constantly changing industry landscape. Here are some of the most important factors:

• Talent and dedication: One of the most important factors is the artist's inherent talent and dedication to their craft. An artist who consistently produces high-quality music and performs well on stage is more likely to attract a loyal fan base and gain the attention of industry insiders who can help propel their career forward.

• Adaptability: Another key factor is an artist's ability to adapt to changing trends and audiences. As music styles and tastes evolve over time, successful artists are often those who can pivot and experiment with new sounds and styles, while still staying true to their core identity and message.

• Strong work ethic: Many successful artists also have a strong work ethic and are willing to put in the time and effort required to build and maintain a successful career. This includes not only creating and performing music, but also promoting themselves, networking with industry professionals, and managing their business affairs.

• Business acumen: In addition to musical talent, many successful artists also possess a keen business sense and are able to navigate the complexities of the music industry. This includes understanding how to negotiate contracts, manage finances, and make strategic decisions about their career trajectory.

• Strong support system: Finally, many successful artists have a strong support system in place, whether that includes a talented manager, supportive record label, or dedicated fan base. This support can help artists weather the ups and downs of the industry and maintain momentum over the long haul.

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Well, that’s not a bad assessment at all, is it?

Those last two points especially made me think. 

When I started the Art of Longevity, quite a few people said that artists wouldn’t discuss the business side of music, or that they would articulate it poorly. This couldn’t turn out to have been more wrong. On the contrary, the artists have shown deep insight and good business instincts mostly, or at the very least an understanding that someone in their camp needs to have those things. 

As for a strong support system, this is often not associated with record labels any more - they don’t have a reputation these days as being instrumental to an artist’s development. Yet, in 2023 as the music world is engulfed by tech (again), A&R remains a key role for both managers and label reps. Even just an arm around the shoulder can go a long way in supporting the artist in executing their own vision. 

An AI-regenerated response then adds to the initial summary:

• Consistency: Consistently producing high-quality music over time can help an artist maintain a loyal fanbase and attract new listeners.

• Collaborations: Collaborating with other artists can help an artist stay relevant and bring in new fans from other genres or demographics.

• Touring: Touring is an important part of an artist's career, as it allows them to connect with fans and promote their music. Successful artists often tour extensively, building a strong reputation and following along the way.

• Innovation: Some artists are able to sustain long careers by constantly pushing the boundaries of music and introducing new sounds and techniques.

And a third, final round adds:

• Strong fan base: Building a strong fan base is crucial for sustaining a long career. Artists who have a loyal following are more likely to continue to sell records and concert tickets, even as they age.

• Branding: Successful artists often have a strong brand identity that extends beyond their music. This could include a distinctive look or persona, as well as a strong social media presence.

• Industry relationships: Finally, having strong relationships within the music industry, including with labels, agents, and other artists, can help an artist sustain a long career. These relationships can help with things like securing record deals, booking tours, and collaborating with other artists.

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Again, pretty damn good assessment. Hard to argue with it. The building of a loyal fan base, fan-by-fan, is now something every artist is aware of as critical to survival. And branding - that’s a pretty savvy pick-up by the AI bot right there. Branding has never been more important to artists for cutting through a vastly competitive field, building a narrative that is individual and unique. 

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Now, how about filtering all this through an artist? Who better than Sir Elton John, who is about to grace the big stage for what might be a final time (though I seriously doubt it) at this summer’s Glastonbury Festival. 

I thought about Elton because his longevity has been a series of revivals, none bigger (or more carefully orchestrated) than in recent years. Those collabs, those brand extensions, that all-encompassing lifetime deal with Universal Music. Elton’s renaissance began with a blockbuster movie and the monster hit that is the PNAU remix Cold Heart (his biggest streaming song in a fifty-year career). But none of it was a random thing, more a combined, masterminded career move in which nobody put in more work than the star himself: a strong work ethic indeed. 

This is what Chat GTP had to say about Sir Elton John’s longevity:

Elton John's long-term success can be attributed to a combination of factors, including:

• Exceptional talent and skill: Elton John is an incredibly talented musician, songwriter, and performer. He has an impressive vocal range and is a skilled pianist, which has allowed him to produce a wide range of music over the years.

• Versatility: Elton John has been able to successfully transition between genres, incorporating elements of rock, pop, and even classical music into his work. He has also collaborated with a wide range of artists over the years, including Bernie Taupin (of course!), George Michael, and Lady Gaga.

• Strong fan base: Elton John has a loyal and dedicated fan base that has followed him throughout his career. His music has resonated with people of all ages and backgrounds, which has helped him to maintain a strong following over the years.

• Branding: Elton John has a distinctive brand identity that has helped him stand out from other artists. This includes his flamboyant costumes and stage performances, as well as his charitable work and advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights.

• Business acumen: Elton John has been able to navigate the ups and downs of the music industry, making smart business decisions around touring, merchandising, and licensing. He has also been able to adapt to changing technologies and consumer trends, which has helped him stay relevant over the years.

• Industry relationships: Finally, Elton John has strong relationships within the music industry, including with his long-time collaborator Bernie Taupin and his record label, which has helped him to secure record deals, book tours, and collaborate with other artists.

So there you have it, a very comprehensive summary of how to have a lasting career in music. 

Now, should I even bother commencing with The Secrets of Longevity, I wonder? What else could the human touch possibly add to the above?

There’s only one way to find out. There are no shortcuts… 

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Along with his recent hits, the 50th Anniversary of Elton John’s Honky Château has been perfectly timed (uncoincidentally) with music’s catalogue boom and is essential deep listening. 

Despite ChatGPT’s assessment, Elton’s output hasn’t always been consistent. But even his failed attempts to keep up with music trends makes for fascinating listening.

Most lately, I’ve been obsessing over Elton’s 1971 live album release 17-11-70 - a one off small scale show recorded at A&R Studios, New York City (beginning with a rather fabulous spoken intro by someone called Dave Herman). The quality of the recording is astonishing, but the performance is unbelievable. All the secrets of Elton’s longevity are in this one early, one-take live record. 

When it comes to longevity, the song remains the thing

[This piece was originally written and published by The Ivor’s Academy ]

Was it Stephen Sondheim who said that writing a hit musical provided absolutely no insight whatsoever as to how to write another one? Perhaps the same principle applies to hit songs. Songcraft remains at the heart of success for music artists in every way – critical, commercial, self-actual – the song is the ultimate unit of currency in the music industry. The Art of Longevity podcast is now five short seasons in (34 episodes) and I’m still discovering more ‘secrets to success’ for long careers in music, so many of which revolve around songs. 

Take Tears For Fears. The iconic British pop duo hold the highest accolade in songwriting – an Ivor Novello for Outstanding Song Collection. It was therefore fascinating (and disconcerting) to hear about how Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith were locked in a songwriting camp for over a year, with an elite group of hitmaker writers and producers in (a fruitless) search for hit tunes. Eventually, Roland and Curt abandoned the project altogether. Instead, they started from scratch as a duo – the way they wrote songs 40 years ago for The Hurting – and with great results (listen to the second side of their most recent album The Tipping Point).

As the music industry heads further towards new levels of industrialisation and commodification, it is heartening to know that some things can never really change. Despite the best efforts of AI and computers, and large teams of songwriters, the very best songs are still created by just one or two hearts and minds. It is something the tech community that so engulfs the music industry these days might try to appreciate a bit more. 

Songs may be getting shorter, and some writers and producers might well look to a formula when it comes to navigating the streaming algorithms, but really – the song remains the same. 

Here are five more of my favourite songwriter stories I’ve discovered through my conversations with songwriters on the Art of Longevity. 

The song that takes you further than you imagine

Hang out for a day with UK ‘alternative radio’ (if indeed it still exists) and at some stage you will hear them spin Feeder’s ‘Buck Rogers’. The track reached number five on the UK chart back in January 2001 but remains a radio standard even in its 21st year. Grant Nicholas originally wrote the song to impress Norton in the hope he would be persuaded to work with Feeder. Despite the Sci-Fi character title (adopted purely because Nicholas fancied the tune sounded futuristic) the track is a drunken break-up song, knocked out quickly after a drinking session down the pub (Grant was drowning his sorrows after splitting up with his girlfriend). Buck Rogers contains a big guitar riff and stream-of-consciousness lyrics about being jealous of his rival’s brand new Jaguar (with a CD player) and whatever else came into his drunken head. Including drinking cider from a lemon.

The rest is as they say, history: but a very important part of Feeder’s history – and with a plot twist. Through the medium of song, one man’s momentary misery and frustration has led to millions of joyous moments. And while cars no longer come installed with CD players, people will always want to drink themselves silly and sing along to Buck Rogers (the song may well surpass 50 million streams soon). Not only that, but Grant came up trumps not just by way of a hit single, but by winning over Gil Norton to become the band’s next producer – for what was to be their best-selling album Comfort In Sound. Oh, and the lost girlfriend? – that would be Kana – his wife and mother of his two kids. Sometimes the ability to write a good song can take you a long way. 

The song that just comes to you

We all know the story of how Sir Paul McCartney wrote yesterday. He dreamt it, waking up with it almost fully formed, so the story goes. 

One of my favourite conversations so far is with one of the UK’s most underrated songwriters, Nerina Pallot. Before we spoke, I had done my prep, listening to Nerina’s entire back catalogue at least once. However, I got stuck on one song in particular: ‘The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter’, from Nerina’s 2017 album Stay Lucky. I had assumed the song was a cover version, such is its classic quality (that’s not meant to offend Nerina, whose catalogue I was not too familiar with until then). I’d assumed the song must be an original from the likes of Christy McVie, or Billy Joel, or Carole King. But it was an original of Nerina’s. I asked her about how she came to write such a classic:

“That’s my favourite song I’ve ever written. It fell out of me in an hour, or an afternoon. It’s everything I wanted it to be. We cut it live in four minutes, I felt if I was to fuck with it too much I would kill it. It’s one of those rare moments where it all came together.”

Every songwriter hopes for the song to ‘be sent from above’, the divine intervention that comes in a dream or Eureka moment. Nothing will invite it more than practice though is my guess. The 90% perspiration might just be what lets in the inspiration. 

The song someone else gifts you

Another of my favourite episodes was a conversation with Fin Greenhall, otherwise known as Fink. While Fink is not one to bend to the whims or will of the record industry (“I’ve never tried to write a hit”), there is something savvy in the way the band has navigated a path through. In 2014 the band created its own label ‘imprint’ RECOUP’D Records, with long-term partner Ninja Tune (the iconic electronic label felt like the band’s new material wasn’t quite in its wheelhouse). On that year’s ‘Hard Believer’ album, along came the song ‘Looking Too Closely’. The song is an exercise in economy, grabbing you with the acoustic strum intro and the genius opening couplet “This is a song about somebody else, so don’t worry yourself, worry yourself”. It doesn’t rely on a big chorus or any kind of hook, yet Fin just knew it was a more commercial song, so much so that his first instinct was to throw it out: 

“I wanted to cut it from the album, but my manager said they would walk away if I did.”

Now that is good management! The song was initially given away as a free download, but 100 million streams later this deeply alternative trio has a genuine streaming hit – something that gave the band the freedom to do whatever they wanted from that point on. 

When I asked Fink how he wrote it though, his answer was even more surprising. “It was something my wife said to me, so she wrote it in a way”. 

Between his wife and his manager, Fin was given his own song as a gift, twice over. 

The song that brings you a new lease of life

There are plenty of examples of late-bloomer hits, but that’s not quite what I mean. For the season finale of Season 5, we’ve gone full circle with the show by talking to Brett Anderson, the lead singer and songwriter of iconic British band Suede. It was a quote from Brett about the lifecycle of a commercially successful band that inspired the concept behind the podcast. 

On listening to Suede’s new record (Autofiction) I was struck in particular by two songs, ‘Personality Disorder’ and ‘Shadow Self’. On these songs, Brett goes for a spoken word verse, influenced by the recent trend set by young British bands such as Dry Cleaning, Yard Act and Working Mens Club. Brett wanted to give it a go, never having tried the vocal technique before, and the results are superb. He’s brilliant at it for one thing, but for another – both songs have a liberated, post-punk vitality that takes Suede back to their very best. The band spent four year writing the songs for Autofiction, and for such a fresh sounding record that’s a deceptive but simple fact. But it is nice to hear examples of classic bands being influenced by today’s up & coming artists. Also, there is something about post-pandemic albums, they appear to be better than before.

The song that comes from a bad place (otherwise known as the pandemic inspired song)

Speaking of great post-pandemic records and in a similar vein to Suede’s Autofiction, the Texan band Spoon (just about my favourite band as it happens) went back to basics for their album Lucifer On The Sofa, recording the songs as a full band, sometimes after just a few takes. The title track is particularly inspired. When I asked Brett about its origins he told me:

“It was a song that we were jamming, from a long time ago. We turned on a drum machine and looped it. That’s the chord progression, and then in 2020 during the pandemic, I sat down to do something with it. Lucifer on the sofa is me when I’m at my worst, when I’m depressed and anxious. It’s the character that makes me lose my motivation, when I’m bitter and nasty. Sometimes it takes me a long time to write lyrics but they came to me really fast and I loved that character of Lucifer On The Sofa.”

Songs as catharsis often make the best songs for both the writer and the listener, and this is a great example. It’s also one of the best album closers you will ever hear by the way!

The song to be grateful for, always

A moment does not make a career, but for many of the artists I’ve met their initial stratospheric rise to the top was largely attributable to a single song – usually a hit song. It’s fair to say that those songs have become symbolic in their longer careers, often evolving into a complex ‘relationship’ between the songwriter and their successful ‘child’. 

Some examples are James’ ‘Sit Down’ or Elbow’s ‘One Day Like This’. For The Divine Comedy that song is ‘The National Express’ and for KT Tunstall, ‘Suddenly I See’. For The Waterboys it is ‘The Whole Of The Moon’ and for Turin Brakes, ‘Painkiller’. The list goes on and on. 

One thing I’ve always been curious to know is how these artists feel when they hear these songs played on the radio, especially when they might have recently released new material (and many of these artists have written a batch of other excellent songs of course). Or when they are heckled at every single live show by someone in the audience to play it? The answer though, overwhelmingly, is that they are grateful to those songs. They might have to play new interpretations (when he plays live, Joe Jackson never plays his chart hits as they were recorded) or rest the song for periods (James steadfastly would not play Sit Down live for over a decade). 

But those songs helped to make their careers and as such, need to be loved and cared for long after they have ‘left the family home’ to continue the analogy. Besides, when it comes to longevity in music, fan favourites cannot be dismissed. 

Not every songwriter can be a hit machine like Nile Rodgers (“hits are my natural comfort zone”), but songs can come from many different places and can take on a life of their own. After all, look at the economic value now being created from just a relatively small batch of the world’s best pop songs. Songs inspiring covers, new interpretations (and interpolations!) keep driving the industry on and that will never stop. The songwriter does not get their fair dues from much of this, I know. But then again, without good songs there would be no industry, no artists and no entertainment with such phenomenal, global power to evoke human emotion. Would we get any of this with AI? No.

So songwriters, keep writing!

The art of being dropped. Artists, it could be good news

In February 2002, Danny McNamara, his brother Richard and three friends Steve Firth, Mickey Dale and Mike Heaton stepped out on stage to play a sold out show at London's prestigious Royal Albert Hall. This was a new peak for their band Embrace. The band opened that show with the track ‘Over’, probably because they thought it was. The band had just been unceremoniously dropped by their record label. On Richard’s birthday too. After a phenomenally successful debut album and two further critically acclaimed LPs, Danny McNamara wondered “will we ever be here again”. 

In the longer term, things turned out for the better. Embrace had joined the club of rock & pop artists who have been dropped by their labels only to go on and then make among their best - and commercially most successful - records. It is somewhat ironic when you consider that first and foremost, the record label’s function is to commercialise the music. Something happens to bands of longevity when they are judged in that way. They’re having none of it, basically.

Embrace’s 4th album, 2004’s Out Of Nothing, released on a new label, was a reset that took the band back to number one. It also contained the band’s only two top 10 singles, back in the days when singles were still sold in numbers on CD. It makes you wonder that, without the forced adversity, would the band have pulled a rabbit out of the hat in the way they did?

Bands dropped by their labels often go on to make amazing records, commercially and creatively. This has been the case with a large club of artists, here are a few examples, all discussed during my conversations with those artists on The Art Of Longevity podcast:

• Laura Veirs, dropped after her 3rd album with Nonesuch records, Saltbreakers, went on to make July Flame, her most successful commercial album

• The Wombats, dropped after their 3rd album with 14th Floor Records, Glitterbug, went on to make Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life, a number 3 chart album and huge record on streaming

• Spoon, dropped after their first album release for a major label, A Series of Sneaks in 1998, the band’s next record Girls Can Tell set them on a course for a glorious discography of 10 indie-rock albums, including three in the Billboard USA top 10

• Alela Diane, dropped by Rough Trade after her Wild Divine album in 2011, the USA singer-songwriter went on to forge a successful career releasing albums through independent distributors, leading to her most successful album Cusp and new album Looking Glass

In each case, I’m sure there was a story behind the decisions made. A typical situation is that a band’s advocate within the label (usually the same person who signed them) has moved on elsewhere. Sometimes, as in the example with Embrace, the label went bust. Such events are outside of the artist’s control. Mostly of course, the reason will be ‘disappointing sales’ and therein lies the irony in many cases, when the band goes on to have longevous commercial success. 

 It doesn’t have to be that way

While being dropped might be bewildering and depressing for an artist (and perhaps in some cases their labels too) it is important to see it as a new beginning rather than the end. On the other hand, although counterintuitive at first, it follows that labels might think twice about dropping artists and perhaps rarely should. Only in extreme cases where all other remedies are exhausted should a hard-won, hard-worked relationship be forced to an abrupt end. Sticking with an artist that you believed in at the beginning is likely to bear fruit again at some stage - in the above cases the very next record. Most artists experience creative and commercial highs and lows as a natural ebb & flow of their long-term viability. That requires a long-term vision, which is not outside the scope of a music label even in these fast-paced times we’re living in. 

The careers of many other artists demonstrate exactly that, including the following for example:

• Norah Jones, who has released nine studio albums over two decades with Blue Note Records

• Death Cab For Cutie, in many ways a classic ‘indie’ band, has spent 18 years and six albums on Atlantic Records

• Arctic Monkeys, probably the most successful rock English rock band of their time, have been with Domino Records since the beginning - seven studio albums across 16 years

• Bjork has been with indie label One Little Indian for what will soon be 11 albums over three decades

• Fink has been associated with Ninja Tune since the band’s first record in 2006

In the case of Fink, when it became clear that the band’s music was somewhat of an outlier compared with that label’s core repertoire, instead of ending the relationship, the two entered into a long-term partnership under the artist’s own imprint, the fabulously named Recoup’d Records. It allowed Fink’s career stability and eventually long-term success. A win-win for the band and Ninja Tune. 

I don’t mean to label bash here by any means, that would be too easy and too simplistic. Take the case of Warner Music Group - a few of the labels within Warner are named above, yet the 18-year relationship between Atlantic Records and Death Cab is exemplary. The record industry is a wreckage site of indie bands that signed to major labels and could not make it work, yet the band is thriving on that label. Atlantic remains one of the few labels that still holds some intrinsic brand value as a company with artistic sympathy, harking back to the golden era of the 70s under Ahmet Ertegun. And it was Warner Music and another American iconic indie band Wilco that illustrated the idiosyncratic machinations of the music business so well in the early 2000s. The band was both dropped (Elektra/Reprise) and then effectively signed again (Nonesuch) by the same label (Warner). Although it has a bizarre angle to it, perhaps this should happen more often - the parent company making more effort to accommodate important artists but in the right home. Better than letting the band go, surely. 

 These examples are all testimony to the fact that labels can be partners and representatives throughout the whole process - not just as long as the hits keep coming. With the age of the ‘superstar’ in decline and the even greater unpredictability of hits, it is even more important that record labels find a way to build long-term partnerships with their artists. The markers of ‘success’ in the industry are changing and with it, artists' goals & dreams, which no longer fixate on fame & fortune. They would rather have stable, creative careers that enable them to make a good living. That might be the better focus for their labels and managers from now on. 

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You can listen to in-depth interviews with many of the artists mentioned in this post on The Art of Longevity. Interviews with Embrace and Death Cab For Cutie are published next…

Surviving the biz: 21 themes for creative and commercial longevity in music

In the spring of 2021, I started The Art of Longevity podcast with the aim of interviewing established music artists with honest reflection and perspective the main thrusts of the conversation – and no other agenda. To steer the conversations through a narrative arc, The Art of Longevity is based on a premise set by Brett Andersen from Suede. An interview I read with Brett quoted him saying that all successful artists have followed a similar journey, comprising of four stages: the struggle, the stratospheric rise to the top, the crash down to the bottom and then the renaissance. In each case, what has been my guest’s individual ‘experience’ of both making a living and being a creative force in the music industry? Not only that, but in an industry notorious for mobilising around artists on the way up, but quickly dismantling the machinery and abandoning the rocket ship once the shine wears off. How do they reflect on the industry itself both now and during their time in it?

Not all artist careers fit Brett’s curve perfectly, but everyone recognises the narrative. Some artists I’ve met crossed the rubicon to long-term success after the first few peaks of fame – sometimes after being unceremoniously dropped by their labels. Others have thrived without ever switching labels even though their commercial success has ebbed and flowed. Some have big hit songs to thank for their fame, while others have established long and viable careers without ever having troubled the charts. Some are entirely grateful to labels and ‘the industry’, while others made themselves famous first, never relying on the industry to do it for them. As Season 5 of The Art of Longevity comes around, it has been fascinating to ponder some of the ways artists have navigated through the tricky territory of having a lifelong career making music.

I’ve previously summarised ‘7 secrets’ to longevity in three in-depth blogs but have thrown them together here in shorter form and categorised them into three sets of themes:

1.    Creating and shaping the manifesto.

2.    Mastering the craft, putting in the graft.

3.    Managing expectations and attachments (i.e. the meaning of success).

There are 21 themes overall and I expect there will be a few more to add as the podcast continues.

Creating the manifesto

Make art not entertainment

The American playwright Thornton Wilder once said “If you write to impress it will always be bad, but if you write to express it will be good”. Many artists have come a cropper by either trying to write a hit or trying to repeat the trick of writing a song like the one that previously was a hit. This is made harder by the pressure they are often under to do so, applied by record label execs with an obvious bias to hits, since that’s their job. But resist the temptation and the hits will come anyhow, at least sometimes.

Way back in 1979 Gary Numan composed his debut single ‘Cars’ on the bass guitar in a few short minutes. It went to number 1. Numan followed Cars with a successful run of three number one albums but by the late eighties, he had mislaid his artistic vision as he struggled to write the kind of songs he thought people wanted to hear. In the early 90s, though, encouraged by his wife Gemma, and inspired by Depeche Mode’s ‘Songs of Faith And Devotion’, Numan decided to write the kind of album that he wanted to hear. The result was ‘Sacrifice’, which was an unarguable return to form, a trend he sustained on the subsequent albums ‘Exile’ and ‘Pure’. Gary got his mojo back by working to fellow musician Steve Wilson’s mantra: make art not entertainment.

Obsess over your references, but meld them into something that is uniquely ‘you’

In a world in which there are no new ideas, it is fine to beg, steal and borrow, provided you create something unique from it (if you want proof of that just think about The Rolling Stones!). The Coral is a band revered on the music scene - a real artist’s band. They are accomplished musicians who first got together at school in the small Wirral town of Hoylake. The band members bonded over their many music icons, from The Beatles and the Small Faces to Acker Bilk and Del Shannon. Listening to a record by the Coral is a dizzying fairground tour of Liverpool’s music hall pop heritage mixed with American West Coast psychedelia and a lot else besides. Sometimes all in one song. Yet it sounds like no other band except The Coral.

Work to an internal code, pact or system

From day one in 1983 Manchester band James had a philosophy and pact to always take risks - whether that be creating new songs from jam sessions to walking out on stage in front of the crowd before finalising the set. James’ are driven to experiment, and it is remarkable that such fully formed songs as ‘Beautiful Beaches’, ‘Sometimes’ and ‘Say Something’ emerged from improvisations. ‘Honour thy error as a hidden intention’ was a card drawn from Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies deck in one recording session with the band, but James already lived by that particular axiom and have done so for almost four decades. Any artist looking to take risks is more likely to go the distance, but to do so will mean working to a code, mantra, manifesto, pact or system that only the band can access, nobody else.

Mastering the craft, putting in the graft

See line-up changes as an inevitable part of evolution

The loss of a key band member can be a punch to the stomach for any band, yet the choice remains – pick yourself up, dust yourself down and get on and make another record. Or don’t. Consider Mike Scott of The Waterboys, who himself counts over 80 rolling band members that have come and gone, yet on he goes, welcoming in new collaborators and finding himself energised by what they bring to the band’s sound, particularly in front of The Waterboys’ loyal live audiences.

Get very, very good live

The pandemic was the missile many artists and bands needed to remind them never to complain again about the tour bus, the support circuit or playing to a half-full club venue in Rotherham or Hicksville, USA. Honing your craft live is what a career in music is all about. Yes, there is making albums, but performing those songs is where it’s at. All the bands and artists that qualify for the ‘longevity’ conversation are very good live acts who have put in their 10,000 hours in rehearsal rooms, festivals and out on the road. If you can put on a performance in which people transcend into a world where they care less and dance & sing more, you will have longevity.

Make music about themes you associate deeply with

In the continuous waterfall of new music releases, it’s almost impossible to stand out. The best records contain strong themes that the creator can channel in a way that is individual and authentic. Laura Veirs is a native of Colorado and resident of Portland Oregon. Originally a Geology major, Laura is better known as a gifted folk-pop singer songwriter. It is no surprise that her music is steeped in nature. Her rise to fame came with 2004’s Carbon Glacier, the first of four records themed on the elements. Carbon Glacier was earth, Year of Meteors was sky, Saltbreakers was sea and July Flame was...guess what? Fire. By the time she got around to July Flame, Laura had made her first masterpiece. As the best authors say, write about what you know.

Invent a sub-genre

At the height of the ‘second latin music explosion’ in the late 90s came Calexico. In 1998 the band’s second album The Black Light, a concept album of sorts inspired by the desert of Arizona and northern Mexico, received excellent reviews and put the band firmly on the map. With their eclectic mix of Tex Mex, mariachi and indie-americana, Calexico brought something different and new. The music journalist Fred Mills captured their sound perfectly with two words - ‘desert noir’. All three musicians continue to make new music, thriving and still restlessly creating across many styles and genres. They earned the right to do so however, because they created a genre.

Respect the great musicians of the past but do not try to compete with them

This is the revelation that struck Roland Orzabal of Tears For Fears as the band struggled to create a masterpiece following the runaway success of their second album Songs From The Big Chair. Back in the mid-80s and thrust into the pop limelight, Orzabal felt the reverence of his 60s and 70s heroes bearing heavily on his shoulders: “we were competing with the whole history of rock & roll”. Tears For Fears famously made one of the most tortuous and expensive albums in history. The Seeds of Love, an album so “opulent, expensive, puffed-up, bombastic” (Roland’s words) they couldn’t follow it up. Tears For Fears imploded under the pressure. Between long gaps, the band have come together to make records with the belief that even after making three of the best in pop history, they can still create work that they consider to be as good as their best. They are their own judges.

Before you make your first album, make sure you have written two albums

The ‘difficult second album’ remains a pivotal moment for most artists - the first bridge to potential long-term success. Most examples of failed sophomore records are either trying to repeat a successful debut or rushing out songs to capitalise an initial success. A way to mitigate this is have enough songs in the bag. Reflecting on the early days of The Beta Band (think back to the 90s when they were in danger of becoming huge), Steve Mason’s one true regret was not to spend more time crafting songs for the band’s sophomore record. Steve may have been better off following Stuart Murdoch’s lead. The Belle and Sebastian singer and principal songwriter already had another album written after the band’s precocious debut Tigermilk was released in 1996. That second album was If You’re Feeling Sinister - which many believe to still be their best. If you keep writing good songs, there’s always a place to store them for later.

Make your songs a bit weird

There are few such masterful chartbusters as Nile Rodgers (his beat-up 1959 Fender Strat. is even nicknamed ‘The Hitmaker’) yet when Nile took control of David Bowie’s early folk rendition of ‘Let’s Dance’ and turned it into Bowie’s biggest commercial success, the creative result was fantastic, yet also (in Rodgers’ own words) weird. Everyone involved knew Let’s Dance was special, but it sounded like no other song ever to reach the charts. Despite the ‘song-by-numbers’ culture in the streaming era, it’s worth remembering that audiences are real people, and that real people like stuff that’s weird.

Have the confidence to disrupt yourself before the industry disrupts you

Many musicians are intuitive enough to know what record label execs do not; that staying in your lane will send you quickly down a cul de sac. That any number of comparative charts and benchmarks cannot inspire you in one commercial direction or another. As an artist (especially an important label priority) the last thing you might do is exactly what you are told, lest you might end up back in the charts and holding another token industry award but creatively disillusioned and soon washed-up. 

The mainstream no longer exists but in the 80s it did and in 1987 LA rock band Los Lobos discovered it by accident. Their cover of Richie Valens’ ‘La Bamba’ became a smash number one hit in a dozen countries. How do you follow that? With an album of traditional Mexican music of course! Thing is, Los Lobos knew how much of a fluke La Bamba was for them and that they had little chance of successfully repeating it. So they didn’t try or let anyone convince them it was a good idea.

Welcome in those little details that might change your destiny aka trust your studio team

Back in 1992, the Barenaked Ladies song ‘One Week’ finally broke the band in the USA and brought them international fame too. Although Ed Robertson had written the song and taken lead vocals duty (including that famous dexterous rap) Ed thought the idea of the record label, to make One Week the lead single for their new album, to be a joke. Then, the record’s producer (Susan Rogers) suggested the drum loop “wasn’t very cool”. Because of Susan’s input, the band changed the drums, a tweak which transformed the song and in effect, the band’s entire future.

In 1990 Los Lobos hauled themselves into a downtown LA studio with six new songs and teamed up with Mitchell Froom together with Tchad Blake. Steve Berlin told me: “Nothing could sound normal, it had to be noisy, turned upside down. Tchad could even take the mistakes and turn them into something that sounded genius”.

Those small suggestions, accidents and tweaks might turn out to be pivotal. Those producers and engineers really can make careers.

Be your own cottage industry

A common pattern with artists that have achieved longevity is that they tend to get started under their own steam. Portico Quartet spent their early years busking along London’s Southbank. I bought a copy of the band's very first, self-pressed four-track CD for £5, one of 10,000 sold. So much of success in music is still down to luck. But the point is, you need to make your own luck. With those Southbank busking sessions, home CD burner factory and the Hang drum, Portico Quartet created enough word of mouth to amass an early dedicated following. What followed was a Mercury Prize nomination and so far, an 8-album career.

Create in a vacuum but have an appreciation of how the market works

It is clear when artists have made music for the market – and sometimes it works. But the world’s best-selling albums were often created in a vacuum. It’s how Norah Jones made Come Away With Me – an introverted, old-fashioned record that broke the mould in the early 2000s and then went on to sell 27 million copies. Yet it also helps for artists to know their market, so that they can be aware of the true potential of what they have created, and to be obliging and to understand the commercial requirements of a label, whose job it is to make money. In the end, marketing and promoting a record is best done as a meeting of minds, not a fight over what should be the single, or who the target audience is. With hindsight, many legacy artists wish they’d known more about the industry and music marketing. Today’s business is more collaborative, with both artists and labels required to play major roles in marketing, preferably under a joined-up strategy.

Managing expectations and attachments (i.e. the meaning of success)

Remain grateful and humble for the stratospheric rise but know how to come down

Most bands of longevity get to have their moment in the sun. Whether it was for one big song, a string of hit albums, being associated with a scene on the rise – their time in the spotlight didn’t ‘just happen’. As a legendary A&R executive once told me “We do not live in a world where talent rises naturally to the top”.

Having busked her way around the St Andrews and Fife scenes since the mid 90s, KT Tunstall became an ‘overnight success’ after a show-stopping performance of ‘Black Horse & The Cherry Tree’ on Jools Holland (2004) - an old-fashioned breakthrough moment. KT quickly became a major label priority and was regularly playlisted on the radio. She has now notched up seven studio albums. Twenty years on, if you hear KT Tunstall on the radio today, it will likely be one of the same three songs it was in 2004: Suddenly I See, ‘Black Horse’ or ‘Other Side of The World’. Yet KT is entirely grateful to those songs and to the industry machine that made them hits. After all, she wouldn’t be recording her eighth album today otherwise.

Keep in mind that your best work is ahead of you

After her second album Fires, Nerina Pallot was suddenly hot property on the music scene circa 2007. Never quite comfortable with that, her third album The Graduate (2009) was an uneven affair that failed to keep the spotlight shining Nerina’s way. Maybe that turned out for the better. Nerina regrouped to make a more consistent and accomplished record ‘Year Of The Wolf’ in 2011. The album received positive reviews from fans and critics alike, many complimenting the more mature sound and direction. It became a foundation for what she does – make finely-crafted records of grown-up pop music.

Create a culture and commerce will follow

Some of the most successful artists created culture first and commerce second. Portico Quartet, Belle and Sebastian, Teenage Fanclub all did this. For Portico Quartet, it was busking on London’s Southbank, where the band created their own loyal fanbase. With Belle & Sebastian, Stuart Murdoch’s singular vision of the band he wanted to create – and the audience he wanted to attract – was so clear and strong – in the end it was record labels that succumbed, not the other way around. Teenage Fanclub, meanwhile, got into the habit of making records first, then shopping them to labels. All three demonstrate how ‘DIY’ culture has always thrived in music. And DIY is of course more possible now than ever.

If you get dropped, turn things around and make your best record

This was the case with Laura Veirs (July Flame), The Coral (Butterfly House), The Wombats (Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life), Nerina Pallot (Fires), Spoon and countless others. While being dropped might be bewildering and depressing for an artist (and labels too), it is a new beginning rather than the end. It follows that labels might think twice about dropping artists and perhaps rarely should.

Earn the right to say ‘no’ and recognise what this means for your career

After Fink made ‘Perfect Darkness’ (album number four) the band had earned the right to say “no”. No to playing small shitty venues. No to rushing out a follow-up record. No to some (of the many) sync offers that came rushing in. It was at that point, after seven years of saying yes to everything, that the band began to realise they had created something of real value and were in it for the long game. They hadn’t hit ‘the big time’ (that might come later) but they earned the right to make their choices, including ‘no’. Be ready to turn down what doesn’t feel right for you, even if those around you think it is.

Take your time

In this day & age FOMO drives everything. The creator equivalent is ‘FOBF’: fear of being forgotten. But FOBF doesn’t bother Adele, or Paulo Nutini. And it doesn’t bother Jonas Bjerre of Danish rock band Mew. Over 25 years Mew has made seven studio albums which is one every four years. That’s not something Spotify would advocate as an operating model for bands these days, is it? But the truth is - there is no point racing your way to the front of an endless rush of music. You cannot make memorable songs by fidgeting and frittering away ‘content’. Well you can, but the more confident way through is to quietly focus on your art. The fans will welcome you back long after the ‘followers’ have forgotten you existed.

Have other pursuits of meaning outside of your main music vehicle

In life there are four elements: work, family, relationships and you - and a balance has to be achieved. Artists can struggle with this balance. Between the intensity of writing and recording and the hard graft of touring, the obsessive element to being a musician makes work-life balance impossible. When bands achieve ‘fame’ (the ‘stratospheric rise to the top’ phase of Brett Andersen’s longevity curve) balance goes totally out of whack. Some band’s take to it and others don’t but for a while, everything looks amazing - records in the charts, video shoots, press interviews, international travel and a different hotel every night. In this day and age, you need more than just your album-touring cycle to engage your fan base, so you can invite them in on your other creative projects too. It goes without saying that paying more attention to physical and mental wellbeing has become more recognised and important for artists in the modern industry, though problems are still rife. What matters is that you make the time to regenerate, make the art you need to make and that you keep in touch with your fans. Longevity is not a linear process, but cyclical - everything comes back around.

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The Art of Longevity Season 5 begins with English pop-rock band Everything Everything.

The Longevity of Laura Veirs

In these short summary articles, I make a quick assessment of the careers of those artists that have joined me on The Art of Longevity podcast. Who knows, each of these short articles might add up to the chapters of a book on lasting careers in music. For the time being celebrating each artist’s body of work and their individual brand of success is enough for a blog!

Levitating Laura Veirs, by Mick Clarke

As she releases album number 12 Found Light, it is worth celebrating Laura Veirs’ continued contribution to the music scene across two decades of making her unique brand of indie folk pop. The secret to her success is not being attached to outcomes and focusing on the craft of making very good albums as cohesive works. She is not as self-critical as many of her peers and would rather get stuff made than worry about perfection or how it will be received. Ironically then, her music is critically revered and I’m sure Found Light will again receive 4 or 5 star reviews. 

Early albums and songs

Laura’s proper commercial debut was in 2003 with Troubled by the Fire, which got her noticed enough to be signed to Nonesuch - a major label in the Warner Music Group family. Then came Carbon Glacier, which brought Veirs to the edge of stardom. However, rather than carry on in the same vein, she diversified her sound to make two albums with rock/pop stylings mixed in with the folk she was known for: Year of Meteors (2005), and Saltbreakers, in 2007. All these records were critically revered but commercially speaking didn’t make enough numbers for her label and she was dropped. But here’s the thing...Laura Veirs made her masterpiece right after that. July Flame was again given widespread praise by critics and fans but it also sold better than anything she’d released up to that point. All the way through her first decade (and since), Laura has never had a hit song, with just a couple of albums making the lower reaches of the chart. It hasn’t really mattered. 

Crossing the rubicon to longevity

Once Laura had established a way to release her albums independently and keep on going (on her label Raven Marching Band, distributed through the highly respected Bella Union independent label) she was destined for longevity. Having built enough of a fan base in her native USA and in Europe, her run of albums continues to be very strong and arguably, each album is in many ways better than the last. The Lookout (2018) and My Echo (2020) are cases in point. 

Key collaborators

Tucker Martine was producer on many of her albums including Carbon Glacier, Year of Meteors, Saltbreakers, July Flame, Tumble Bee and Warp & Weft (he was also Laura’s spouse until their divorce in 2020). She worked on the album Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens, and has collaborated with Jim James. Veirs also took the lead on the 2016 album case/lang/veirs, a superb collaboration with k.d. lang and Neko Case.

Overcoming obstacles

When Veirs was dropped after her fifth album, she was “bummed” (her word) and disorientated. But she went on to make her best record. More recently in 2020 she went through a divorce, meaning she separated not just from her husband and co-parent but her principal musical collaborator, Tucker Martine. She has set out to be more independently in control of the way her music sounds from hereon in. The new album Found Light is a deep expression of overcoming break-up and moving on and may be yet another high watermark for Veirs. 

Defining success

How does Laura measure her own success? She doesn’t stop to think about it. As one project gets done, she’s onto the next. In her own words “I’m not attached to the outcome”. A prolific songwriter and increasingly accomplished musician, Laura is constantly moving forward with all the restless energy of a fast flowing river. Despite being a relatively small streaming artist (230k followers on Spotify) and never troubling the charts, she is often featured in mainstream music press (she even made a recent appearance on the BBC’s lauded arts magazine show Front Row).

Beyond the music

Like many artists of longevity, Laura is a true artist who has expressed her art through poetry, a children’s picture book (Libba: The Magnificent Musical Life of Elizabeth Cotten) children’s music (Tumble Bee), art and also teaching both music and arts & crafts. 

New album Found Light was produced by Veirs with Shahzad Ismaily. Revisit Laura discussing her career, the ups and downs of making commercial music and defining her own success on The Art of Longevity Season 1, Episode 3. 

Seven more secrets to a longevous career in the music business

The late Stephen Sondheim once said that writing a hit musical was a wonderful thing, but provided no insight as to how to write another one. The same might apply to a hit song. Songcraft remains at the heart of success for music artists in every way - critical, commercial, self-actual - the song is the ultimate unit of currency. The Art of Longevity podcast is now four short seasons in (27 episodes) and I’m still discovering more ‘secrets to success’ in the music industry long game, so much of which revolves around songs. It was fascinating (and disconcerting) to hear about how Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith of Tears For Fears were locked in a songwriting camp with an elite group of those hitmaker writers and producers in (fruitless) search of a hit single. The process went on for over a year, only for the band to abandon the project altogether. Instead, they started from scratch as a duo - the way they wrote songs 40 years ago for The Hurting (and what songs they were). As the music industry heads further towards new levels of industrialisation and commodification, it is heartening to know that some things can never really change. Despite the best efforts of AI and computers, and large teams of songwriters, the very best songs are created by just one or two hearts and minds. 

For creative and commercial longevity, there are quite a few revelations emerging from these conversations. There is a rubicon to be crossed - that point where an artist has amassed a core following of fans that are always there for them. They will always listen to new records, and might even buy them. They will come along to live shows, maybe more than once. They will always revisit your catalogue, sometimes each and every week, month and year. 

To get to that place - to be longevous in the music industry - to make money and hold on to a modicum of fame and reverence, you will need to keep on making good songs. It is that simple. Not easy, but simple. It’s the songs that get you there. I’m not a songwriter but I don’t mind passing on some advice from other songwriters. Here are the next seven secrets:

Keep in mind that your best work is ahead of you

In The Wombats’ early days learning their craft at LIPA (Liverpool Institute for the Performing Arts) the band got to interview Sir Paul McCartney. The great man and coolest musician to walk the earth told them that their best work was always ahead of them. Taking this advice to heart the band continues to get better and better with each album they make. It’s possible they are working their way patiently to a masterpiece? If the band keeps on thinking that way, it’s more likely they will achieve it. 

Invent a sub-genre

In the early 80s, Mike Scott and The Waterboys recorded songs in a way no one had heard before - sweeping, epic, huge tunes that combined Phil Spector’s ‘wall of sound’ with an organic, acoustic core. It was unique enough to earn its own name (after one of the band’s songs), ‘The Big Music’. Just a few years later, in 1986, Bruce Hornsby and The Range scored a global hit with the song ‘The Way It Is’. Again, its sound and style was unique enough to earn the name ‘The Virginia Sound’. At the height of the ‘second latin music explosion’ in the late 90s came Calexico. In 1998 the band’s second album The Black Light, a concept album of sorts inspired by the desert of Arizona and northern Mexico, received excellent reviews and put the band firmly on the map. With their eclectic mix of Tex Mex, mariachi and indie-americana, Calexico brought something different and new. The music journalist Fred Mills captured their sound perfectly with two words - ‘desert noir’. All three musicians continue to make new music, thriving and still restlessly creating across many styles and genres. They earned the right to do so however, because they created a genre. 

Respect the great musicians of the past but do not try to compete with them

This revelation struck Roland Orzabal of Tears For Fears as the band struggled to create a masterpiece following the phenomenal success of their second album Songs From The Big Chair. Back then, thrust into the pop limelight, Orzabal felt the reverence of his 60s and 70s heroes bearing heavily on his shoulders: “we were competing with the whole history of rock & roll”. Tears For Fears famously made one of the longest, most tortuous and expensive albums in history in The Seeds Of Love. What followed was the 1989 album Sowing The Seeds of Love, an album so “opulent, expensive, puffed-up, bombastic” (Roland’s words) they just couldn’t follow it up. Tears For Fears imploded under the pressure (even though those first three albums had cemented their place in pop history). Between long gaps, the band have come together to make records with the belief that even after making three of the best in pop history, they can still create work that they consider to be as good as their best. Tears For Fears are their own judges. 

Before you make your first album, make sure you have written two albums

Reflecting on the early days of The Beta Band (think back to the 90s when they were in danger of becoming huge), Steve Mason’s one true regret was not to spend more time crafting songs for the band’s sophomore record. The ‘difficult second album’ remains a pivotal moment for most artists - the first key bridge to long-term success. 

There’s nothing worse than time pressure to produce music and many sophomore albums have suffered from either being rushed, or sinking under the weight of expectation following a successful debut. You may be better off following Stuart Murdoch’s lead. The Belle and Sebastian singer and principal songwriter already had another album written after the band’s precocious debut Tigermilk was released in 1996. That second album was If You’re Feeling Sinister - which many believe to still be their best. If you keep writing songs there’s always a place to store them for later. 

Make your songs a bit weird

While a song may never be truly finished, a definitive version is what artists are looking to put down on record, a process that takes inspiration, hard work and collaboration. This has proved UK indie pop band The Wombats very well. At the core of The Wombats’ enduring success are those songs - catchy, bouncy, poppy earworms - some of which have topped 100 million streams. Crucially however, “pulling the rug” from under those songs is also part of The Wombats songcraft. Clever use of bridges, middle eights or sudden shifts in tone can make the difference between a predictable pop song by numbers and something a little bit weirder. And despite the ‘song-by-numbers’ culture in the streaming era, it’s well known that audiences are real people, and that real people like stuff that’s weird. 

Create a culture and commerce is bound to follow

Some of the most successful artists created culture first and commerce second. Portico Quartet, Belle and Sebastian, Teenage Fanclub all did this. For Portico Quartet, it was busking on London’s Southbank, where the band created their own loyal fanbase. With Belle & Sebastian, Stuart Murdoch’s singular vision of the band he wanted to create – and the audience he wanted to attract – was so clear and strong – in the end it was record labels that succumbed, not the other way around. Teenage Fanclub, meanwhile, got into the habit of making records first, then shopping them to labels. All three demonstrate how ‘DIY’ culture has always thrived in music. And DIY is of course more possible now than ever.

If you get dropped, turn things around and make your best record

This was the case with Laura Veirs (July Flame), The Coral (Butterfly House), The Wombats (Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life), Nerina Pallot (Fires), Spoon and countless others. While being dropped might be bewildering and depressing for an artist (and labels too), it is a new beginning rather than the end. It follows that labels might think twice about dropping artists and perhaps rarely should. Sometimes, sticking with an artist that you believed in at the beginning will bear fruit again at some stage. Most artists experience creative and commercial highs and lows, yet the careers of Fink and Norah Jones are testimony to the fact that labels can be partners and representatives throughout the whole process – not just as long as the hits keep coming. 

The Art of Longevity (all seasons) is here. Season 5 launches soon…

Not so smooth: why hasn't the latin music explosion reached latin flavoured rock?

Help me out here. I’m vexed about something. In the streaming era, the music industry is experiencing the ‘3rd latin explosion’. This streaming-induced wave is the biggest and longest-lasting period of latin music’s global dominance. Luis Fonsi’s 2017 single ‘Despacito’ carved out an indestructible road for latin pop music. One song changed everything from thereon in. Artists like Rosalía, Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello and Sofía Valdés continue to drive latin pop into the mainstream in a variety of flavours (those four are all signed to major music labels, who have put all their weight behind latin music in recent years).

The first latin explosion came in the mid-80s with Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine’s ‘Dr Beat’ and Julio Iglesias’ first English language album ‘1100 Bel Air Place’. Along with Madonna’s debut album. The second wave came in the 90s (Selina in the first half, then Ricky Martin and Shakira in the late 90s). And of course, the iconic Buena Vista Social Club. 

Thing is, I love latin music, but I especially love latin mixed with rock. For me when the two mix, something magical happens. It doesn’t have to be hard rock, just not ‘pop’. Ultimately, Los Lobos is that sound. The L.A. band popularised latin pop with ‘La Bamba’ (paving the way for latin’s first wave and preceeding Despacito by 30 years). But the success of La Bamba gave the band a long-lasting identity crisis. Los Lobos is still one of the most misunderstood rock bands of all time, certainly outside of the USA and beyond its own fanbase. That fanbase remains stubbornly niche in the context of the latin explosion. With 2.4 million monthly listeners on Spotify, the band appears to have felt no particular halo effect from the latin music streaming phenomenon. I wonder why? Is it the rock element that acts as an immoveable boundary? Perhaps the overlap between rock fans and latin music fans is ultimately a small sliver of folks like me.

Other artists have arrived at the Latin Rock Ranch too, notably Calexico. The Tucson, Arizona band came together at the height of the second latin wave in the late 90s. In 1998 the band’s second album ‘The Black Light’, a concept album of sorts inspired by the desert of Arizona and northern Mexico, received excellent reviews and put the band firmly on the map. But which map exactly? With their eclectic mix of Tex Mex, mariachi and indie-americana (labeled ‘desert noir’ by music writer Fred Mills), Calexico brought something different. Perhaps too different to ride that 2nd Latin wave. 

Back in 2007 The NYC punk rock band The Bronx surprised their major label patrons at Island Def Jam by announcing their intention to record mariachi albums alongside their core punk rock repertoire. Mariachi El Bronx then became the band’s alter-ego and they continue to perform under both identities. Though I much prefer the mariachi output, the band’s Mariachi El Bronx persona attracts a much smaller following - just 33.5k monthly listeners after five strong studio albums over 15 years. With 62 million Latino residents in the USA as at the last census, over 70% of them Mexican, it’s surprising that the band has not amassed more popularity.

I’m nonplussed how a band such as Calexico has amassed under half a million Spotify monthly listeners. Even though I know that comparisons in pop music are meaningless, J Balvin for example, has over 10 times that (indeed, the Columbian Reggaeton singer has a consistent top 20 place in the world on Spotify). 

My conclusion is that the ‘latin explosions 1, 2 and 3’ simply do not include latin flavoured rock. Calexico, Los Lobos, Mariachi El Bronx, Making Movies etc. remain very niche, especially when considering the authenticity yet accessibility they demonstrate in their respective repertoires. 

If Mexico City is the biggest streaming city on the globe (as it seems to be if you follow Spotify’s rules) I can only suggest that the residents of Mexico city wake up and smell the horchata. It’s not like that city doesn’t like to rock. Almost every major rock band on the planet has significant streaming listeners there (sometimes to their surprise). Perhaps if Spotify knew its audience beyond all those binary digits, it might serve up more Los Lobos, Calexico et. al. as editorial duty. As for radio, your guess is as good as mine as to when any of the above said artists might next crop up alongside the ubiquitous Latin pop tunes. Probably never. And that’s even after Los Lobos picked up another Grammy Award in 2022 for its most recent (superb) covers album ‘Native Sons’.

Of course Louis Fonsi was helped out on ‘Despacito’ by the presence of Justin Bieber, and Beyonce did a similar favour for J Balvin. Perhaps collaborations would be in order here? Back in 1999, Santana’s collaboration with alternative rock singer Rob Thomas (of Matchbox Twenty) reached the high numbers in the charts and remains a solid streaming hit to this day. If we could have another big latin rock single in the style of ‘Smooth’, it might give latin rock the lift it deserves.

Until then, to the radio networks and streaming services I implore: more radio and playlist curation for this great splicing of genres if you please. Latin music rocks!

Credit to Variety Magazine’s interview with Bruno Del Granado (of CAA) find it here

Los Lobos on The Art of Longevity podcast

Calexico on the art of longevity podcast

See the Song Sommelier’s Latino Rocco playlist feature here

Women in Mariachi (this is fascinating)