All right, so a few years back, when I had first declared myself a songwriter, I formulated my "Big Plan." I was going to get signed to a major record label based on the quality of my work, and they would believe in it and support it, and soon everyone would be buying my CDs, and I would be responsible for the return of good, artistically-valid music to pop mainstream. How was I supposed to know any better? Look where I was getting my information from: mtv and the radio. "These people think that Britney Spears is good?" I thought to myself, "Well, wait until they hear what I've got!" How is anyone supposed to know what is really behind all this? They announce these artists as though they made it based on the quality of their work, not the amount of money spent to get them where they are. So you think to yourself: "Hell, my worst song would blow all this crap off the airwaves." Then I found out that this isn't true.
My first clue came when "L.P." by the Rembrandts went entirely unnoticed in the pop mainstream. This didn't conform with my schema. As far as I could tell, good music received the recognition it deserved. (Considering the fact that I listened mostly to Beatles my whole life, this assumption doesn't seem so far-fetched.) This didn't fit, though. I knew that this was great music I was hearing, and it was going ignored. What the hell? That's not right. Then I began picking up their older CDs, only to find that this great music has been ignored for years. Now something was really amiss. And then "All The Pain Money Can Buy" by Fastball came along, and was chock-full of great tunes that never saw the harsh light of day on the radio. Why not? What is wrong? Painfully, I had to come to the realization that quality and popularity were not directly proportional. My big plan was screwed.
Oddly enough, I kept hope alive for a long time, thinking that somehow I would be different, and I would beat these popsters at their own game. I had to believe this, really, or lose all hope. At this time there was still nothing outside the mainstream as far as I could see. I might as well not exist if my songs weren't playing on the radio. Everywhere I looked to at the time seemed only to confirm this fact.
There are people out there screaming at the top of their lungs: "People, listen! You are being had! This is not real!" But they are dismissed. These people are Us, actually. I've had the wool pulled over my standard-issue rose-colored glasses for years. Now I want to be another voice crying out against the commercialization of what once was an art.
Now I've come to the realization that we don't need them. Indy music survives pretty well on its own, thank you very much. It is almost the constant struggle against the man that keeps it alive. If it ever went mainstream, it too would become corrupted. Then we would have nowhere left to turn. Fortunately right now, the american green means so much in the music business that the only way a band becomes mainstream is by selling out. I guess that keeps all this good music away from Them and saves it all for Us. I, for one, am never going to be signed to a major label. Its just wrong. Should I really care if Napster is stealing these songs from the artists? Hell no! I'm just as much an artist as they are, I feel just as strongly about my work as they do. How would I feel if my songs were "pirated" on Napster? Flattered. If I never saw a dime for my music but was rich with the knowledge that hundreds of people enjoy it, then my work here is done. Or just beginning, rather. I can support myself by other means if I have to. Oh, so I can't buy a different sports car for every day of the week? Oh, so I can't fly first class to a five star hotel suite, ride in a limo to my sold out football stadium concert, only to put on the same overproduced show and not have to look one listener in the eye? Shoot! This Napster is terrible! Give me my money!
Do these people not see what is inherrently wrong in what they're doing? Sure, we'd all like to be rich, but how could you sleep on your South African silk sheets knowing that you made all that money by churning out an album of two radio-friendly songs and ten pieces of crap, then not releasing a single, so poor kids have to cough up the $15.99 just to take it home, burn those two songs, then sell it back for $3.00? No thanks. My soul is worth a little bit more than that.
On a very personal level, I've seen this corporate music machine instill bitterness in three people who are among music's greatest listeners, as far as I know. One is a indescribably sweet young woman, another is a walking all-music-guide with impeccable taste, and the last is a musician whose dreams sometimes outweigh his talent. Mainstream music and the industry attached to it try daily to ruin their beliefs in good music, and the belief that popularity and quality may actually be inversely proportional. I want to see it stopped before it hurts any more. But I'm not one of Them, and They control it all. So I'll just play my music for Us, and hopefully, for a moment, it can makes us forget all about them and their pointless games. And then when we have to go back and face Them again, maybe it won't seem so bad.
