Feature Articles
| LOU LEVY (1912-1995) Former ASCAP Board member Lou Levy began a successful music publishing career in the Tin Pan Alley era of the mid 1930's and then went on to amass a catalog of some of pop music's greatest hits. Serving on ASCAP's Board of Directors from 1958 to 1970, Levy was honored by the Society in 1986 for "outstanding contributions as a major force in music publishing." In 1987 he was the recipient of the Songwriter's Hall of Fame Abe Olman Award for Excellence in Music Publishing.
Levy established Leeds Music in 1935 with his friends, lyricist Sammy Cahn and composer Saul Chaplin. Levy is credited with the discoveries of such writing talents as Cahn and Chaplin, Bob Dylan, Charles Strouse, Richard Adler and Jerry Ross, and Henry Mancini. He also either discovered, managed, or developed the careers of such artists as the Ames Brothers, Petula Clark, Bobby Darin, Eddie Fisher, Connie Francis, Woody Herman, Steve Lawrence, Les Paul and the Andrew Sisters.
Levy supplied numerous other singers with hit material: Frank Sinatra with "All or Nothing At All," "Strangers in the Night," and "I'll Never Smile Again"; Petula Clark with "Downtown" and "Call Me"; The Everly Brothers with "Let It Be Me"; Tom Jones with "It's Not Unusual"; and many others. He published The Beatles' first American hit, "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
ASCAP is proud to honor the memory of this innovative publisher and great friend of ASCAP with this discussion series. |
Participants
Big John Platt, Vice President Creative, EMI Music;
Jem Aswad, ASCAP Online Editor;
Barbara Vander Linde, General Manager Creative, Rondor;
Antony Bland, International A&R Manager, Chrysalis Music;
Benjamin Groff, Creative Manager, BMG Music;
Leeds Levy, President, Chrysalis Music
Round 1: 1998
Part 1: The Cut-In
Barbara Vander Linde: My biggest concern right now
is artists who want a piece of publishing who weren't
even in the room when the song was written! Huge artists,
and even not-so-huge artists, want a piece of the songs
that we place.
Leeds Levy: What do you do when a major artist who
sells millions of records insists on cutting themselves
in? Just say no?
BV: I evaluate on a case-by-case basis. Who is the
artist, what is the sales history, is the writer someone
I'm trying to break?
LL: So in the last year you've seen this increase
one hundred percent?
BV: Absolutely. And I think the reason is: everyone
now understands the value of publishing, so even an
artist who is not really a songwriter is going to try
to write half of their album so they can make the publishing
money. So the window for getting an outside [-written]
song has gotten so small that you have to come to the
table with something that everyone agrees is a smash,
and nine times out of ten, it's an up-tempo.
Jem Aswad: The market for good ballads is that small?
BV: The easiest song to write -- for someone who can't
write -- is a ballad. It's not easy to write a great
ballad, but it's harder to write a great up-tempo. Co-writing
is the best way to go, but when you're talking about
an artist who's not really bringing anything to the
table, you've got to balance out the odds. So unless
you've got a writer who can do everything, you're going
to have to put somebody else in the room, and then you've
got three writers -- and the pie gets that much smaller.
LL: In the old-time music business, that was called
the "cut-in." Very famous artists said, "Great -- I
love that song. The only thing that's missing is my
name in the writing credits."
Big John Platt: I haven't seen it as much, but I do
know it happens. You just know that with a huge-name
artist, you may have to give them a piece. If you wrote
100% of the song, you have to be somebody with an incredible
amount of clout not to.
LL: I could almost understand the artist wanting a
piece of the publishing, but this is a share of the
writer credit -- the official records in the Library
of Congress will say that it was a collaboration. The
"cut-in" on the economic side has been with us forever
-- record companies, by the way, are the biggest co-publishers
of all -- but artists actually wanting a co-writing
credit...
BJP: I think if it's a huge-name artist that's going
to sell tons of millions of records with or without
your song, you say, "Okay, I'll give you a piece of
this use. Not of the next or the next or the next."
LL: Yeah, business is business. Ben, have you come
across much of this?
Benjamin Groff: Not really, not that blatantly. I
have had the occasion where someone co-writes with an
artist and the artist demands more of the share than
he is properly entitled to.
Antony Bland: I see it a lot more when writers get
together with maybe a lyricist, and suddenly the lyricist
is taking 60-70% when it should be equal thirds. But
a lot of it may have to do with the "cred" factor --
more people are looking to see who wrote the songs,
so a lot of artists don't want to be accused of not
writing their own songs, and they want to establish
credibility.
LL: We had one situation where an artist didn't want
the royalty but wanted the credit.
BJP: I think a lot of bigger-name writers and producers
do to the newer writers what was done to them. It's
an ever-evolving cycle. For instance, there was one
record produced by a big-name guy -- two other guys
wrote it, 100%. The version that came out was exactly
like the demo, but this producer said, "Just give me
10% of the song." Which is fine -- you may think 10%
is nothing. But -- the perception is, when you see this
producer's name, you think he wrote most of the song,
because he had all these other hits. So this producer
gets more and more work because of this #1 record that
he didn't write.
JA: This is not a new thing -- why is it so much worse
now?
AB: People are wiser about the amount of money in
publishing.
BJP: Publishing isn't really something that you can
touch, so a lot of new writers don't really know what
it is until they see their friend get a big publishing
deal or big royalties off of a song they co-wrote --
"Wait a minute! I didn't get that!" "Well, remember
that piece of paper you signed a year or two ago? You
signed those royalties away!"
LL: Did you ever see Ma Rainey's Black Bottom? It's
a show about the Chicago blues scene in the '20s, when
the writers would sell all of the rights to a song for
$50. But I think now, people are more educated, deals
have skyrocketed, and although the general health of
the business seems flat at the moment, it's still a
huge industry, and it's a great way to continue to receive
income.
I remember when I was at MCA, a very big producer
-- who did not need the money or the prestige -- working
on a very big project, called and said he wanted a piece
of the publishing. And I said no. I could do that because
it didn't matter as much to MCA -- someone might get
mad at me, but the company would still go on. But if
you're a smaller publisher, you have to think twice.
You can't be so bold as to tell them to get lost.
BV: No, every situation is different. Once I had a
writer -- I hadn't even signed him -- and we sort of
accidentally got a huge rock cut, and the artist wanted
to come in as a writer, but he genuinely contributed
to the song: even though the song already existed, there
were lyric and melodic changes that made it more specific
for them.
LL: Then again, I've seen people like [songwriter/producer]
David Foster bring a song to life through an arrangement,
maybe even change some of the melody a little bit, and
not take anything for it -- "that was my job as the
producer and arranger." You might say that he can afford
to be that way, but he's always been like that -- when
he was coming up, he probably produced a lot of records
that he didn't get credit for, and refused to turn around
and do that to other people.
JA: Does it happen to the biggest writers?
BV: Yeah. I don't think anyone is bulletproof against
it. They'll ask major, legendary songwriters for a piece
-- my response is, "Are you kidding?" A major recording
artist asked one of my major writers for a piece of
one of his songs that she recorded -- I said "Here's
his number: you call and ask him! I dare you!" And she
chickened out. But it's fascinating when they approach
you.
BJP: The approach is funny: it's different each time,
and each time you're like, "Here it comes," and it takes
them about 20 minutes to finally get to it. But we have
to stand up for our writers: I had a situation a while
ago where one of my writers did a song with another
writer, and there was a sample in the song that took
50%. So his publisher called me and said "Your guy doesn't
get anything" -- "What are you talking about?" They
said, "He wrote the music but there's a sample" -- "No
-- these guys were together from day one, so any sample
comes off the top and they split it." "Well, the record's
coming out next month" -- "No it's not, because I'm
about to put a stop on all this!" They said, "But you're
gonna hold up the project" -- "Well you're saying my
writer isn't getting paid anyway!" So they called back
the next day and basically said what I said in a different
way. But many people in that situation would have just
crumbled -- either said "Oh, okay," or they'll be mad
but not say what's on their mind.
BV: And maybe one writer won't do it out of principle,
but there are ten others behind them who will.
LL: I'll give you a reverse of that story, something
that I heard happened in Nashville. A song on the current
album by a big country artist was originally cut by
a new artist. And the record company kept pushing back
the new artist's release date, pushing it back, pushing
it back. Two independent publishers copublished the
song, and they finally said, "Enough already! No one's
paying my bills -- I know I can get this song cut."
And now the new artist's record company is trying to
sue them, saying that they'd damaged their artist and
all that -- but only after the song exploded for the
big country artist!
Another rumor I heard says that if that same country
artist puts a song on hold, she will pay the publisher
$30,000 -- assuming you control 100% of the song --
as a deposit. If she cuts the song, great, it comes
out of the mechanical royalties you're owed. If she
doesn't cut it -- the money's yours. Because she wants
to put the best songs on hold, she wants to lock them
up, she wants to make sure that you bring them to her.
BJP: That's a businessperson enticing you, saying
"If I love a song, we can do business today." She means
business -- you're on my "AA" list, you get everything
first, and I also know you're only going to pick what
you love.
BV: She's showing you how committed she is -- that's
a lofty amount! Most people would probably give you
five!
LL: I also heard the reverse of that, from a company
not represented at this table, where, let's say you
signed a self-contained country act, thinking you're
going to get at least half the album, with maybe a couple
of outside songs. The act gets signed to a record deal,
they assign a producer, and the producer is an exclusive
writer who has a co-publishing deal with another publishing
company -- and suddenly you find out you have one song
on the album. All of the other songs are published by
the company that the producer writes for -- even though
he may not have written the songs -- and he's getting
paid $5000 a track to cut his company's songs, whether
they come out or not.
Part 2: The Sky's The Limit/The Death of Artist Development
LL: Let's talk about how crazy deals are right now.
AB: We do deals with songwriters that have cuts out,
and they're fairly decent-sized deals, but not stupid.
But if we sign a rock act or a rock writer, they'll
want $250-300,000 when they don't even have a record
out.
BJP: I sit in our acquisition meetings and my mouth
drops when I see what these rock bands are getting,
and a lot of them aren't even signed yet. They will
get signed, but you're paying $400-500,000 for a band
that doesn't even have a record out. I've got R&B writers
that might have five cuts on platinum records, and their
deals are like night and day compared to rock bands.
I just try to make fair deals, where a writer gets
what they should and we get what we should. I explain
to them what it is from the get-go: if you want a million
dollars, you have to make a million dollar commitment,
because I don't like my writers stressed! They can't
really create when they're stressed, whereas if we lower
this or that commitment, they can create freely. I just
think it's out of control with these rock bands -- an
R&B writer doesn't get two million dollars unless he's
had three or four #1 records.
LL: So how does a big company rationalize that that's
a valid deal to make?
BJP: Because it could be "The One That Got Away."
You could give somebody a million dollars today and
it could seem like a lot, but a year from now, after
they sell ten million records, it was a good deal. No
one wants to miss that next Nirvana or Green Day or
Alanis. The managers and attorneys are the ones who
are really doing it, because that's what they get paid
to do.
LL: It's the blockbuster mentality. One record --
Fastball or Smash Mouth or Blink 182 -- will take off,
and it's almost like that's the only record the label
can promote. It's much more efficient and profitable
for a record label to press ten million copies of one
record than a million copies of ten records, so they'll
put all of their resources into that one act -- and
if they're lucky enough to have that one hit, they make
32 to 1 rather than even money. It's almost like the
pricing of publishing has followed that, so you have
this blockbuster that will sell four or five million
records, where before there would be four or five acts
selling a million, or ten or eleven acts selling half
that. There's no artist development anymore.
BJP: You almost have to earn the right to develop
your artist or your songwriter these days. It's like
you've got to make some money first, and then they'll
say, "Okay, now you can go off in the corner and play
with your new little writer who you think is gonna be
the next #1." Everybody's looking for the quick turnaround.
If you sign some name artists or name acts, then the
company trusts you, so when I sign a Warryn Campbell
or a Tamara Savage, they say "Go do your thing." Then
they see those writers getting cuts and making money,
and that leads into the next writers I want to develop.
But at some companies, it wouldn't be that way if I
didn't have Jay Z or Usher -- people who are generating
some dollars. It's different at EMI -- a lot of my newer
writers went to other companies and their first question
was, "What do you have coming out?" "Nothing." "Okay,
keep in touch!" Whereas if I love the music, we can
do the deal.
LL: What's your window?
BJP: A year. If I can't get anything going in a year,
knowing how I work, then it's just not happening.
JA: You don't start sweating at the ten-month mark?
BJP: Nah. It takes about a month for us to get our
bond together, usually six months to get them a cut,
and then it's getting them really out there. Two contract
periods, sure -- I don't sweat after ten months because
I'm going to pick up the option anyway.
BV: I like to give myself at least 18 months. You
can certainly have activity in the first six to 12 months,
but you have no control over when their record's going
to come out.
BG: I think two years is a good period of time to
see if we're going to move forward. Unless it's a writer
who I think is a headache or just not the right person.
LL: Yeah, what are the telltale signs of "Oops! This
was a mistake!"?
BG: Bad songs. Maybe the deal got done because of
one good song and the rest just aren't happening. Or
there may be ego issues or management issues that make
it less attractive. I haven't really had a situation
like that.
AB: I'd say two years too. After a year you want to be
able to look at the situation and
say, "Okay, I believe in this" -- I'm speaking about
bands more than individual writers. But if you've signed
a new developing band that no one knows about, after
a year you want good quality demos and live performance,
hopefully get a deal six months after that, and hopefully
have a record out six to ten months after that. It can
take a couple of years or more. It's about belief.
But sometimes the problems can rest with yourself:
if you sign something and see it going downhill, you
shouldn't be afraid to step in and say, "Look -- these
songs are okay, what if you change this chord? Or what
if you used this melody here?" That can be crossing
the fine line between being a publisher and being a
writer, and you can't ask for a writing credit unless
you actually have earned it. But if the writer is not
open to any suggestions and just says, "This is my song
-- it's personal," then you can't work with them. "Fine,
go be successful with someone else rather than fail
with us!"
Part 3: Tending the Stable
JA: How many different writers do you have at a time?
AB: Full-time, totally hands-on, maybe 12. Beyond
that, there's the other couple hundred writers on Chrysalis
worldwide -- like, I don't need to do much for Portishead,
but I work much more closely with unsigned bands such
as this Swedish drum-and-bass band called Baxter (now
signed to Maverick). So there's about a dozen taking
up the 40-50% of my time that I allot just to my writers.
BG: Five or six full-time, and maybe 12 peripherally
-- that every two weeks or so I'll speak with on the
phone and discuss things or have activity with.
LL: Are you as responsible for the peripherals?
BG: I'm in kind of a unique situation in that I haven't
signed anyone yet. I've been focusing on working on
our overall roster, and whoever writes the best songs
is who I give my attention to, internationally as well.
LL: And the results are what you are judged on?
BG: Yes.
BJP: I deal with about 15 writers on a hands-on, every
day basis. Then there's another five to ten who were
already there that I handle as well, but 15 day-to-day,
hearing songs, going to the studio, traveling.
LL: Do you see that number growing?
BJP: If I love the songs, we're on! But I don't like
to stockpile. You could bring me some songs and they'd
be cool, but I've already got songs like that. When
I bring something in, it's got to be something I don't
really have, or something to enhance what I have.
LL: When I was at MCA, we would start with five and
get up to ten, but a number of the writers or writer/artists
or writer/producers would get on automatic pilot --
they're launched, they've left the nest, see you at
the ASCAP awards! And that's cool -- they've kind of
graduated.
BJP: Yeah, Warryn Campbell is getting a lot of work
now, and I said, "Okay, I need a new baby to groom!"
And that's when Tamara came along: perfect timing, only
she took off quicker than I thought!
BV: My number slides between 12 and 20. But I agree
with you, when they're out of the nest it becomes more
maintenance, and not the bust-ass-every-day to get them
in the door. I've got one guy who's on auto-pilot right
now who's got so much lined up that he's not available
to me.
LL: I've heard that Rondor works in a unique way:
that there's a pool of writers and you're encouraged
to work with all of them, as opposed to being assigned
these five or 15 writers, and that's your roster.
BV: We have "writer assignments" so that a writer
has a particular person to go to with a problem -- if
it's not set up like that, writers can get five people
in your company doing the same thing. But yes, everyone
can work with everyone; it's not that protective, guarded
thing. If I sign a writer, I don't want to be the only
one working on him, I want the film people working with
him and everyone else. I don't need them going through
me, they can call him themselves, and at weekly meetings
everyone knows where everyone is. And Rondor doesn't
have the turnaround that larger companies have, so it's
really more of a... not to be corny, but a family feeling
there. [Owners] Herb [Alpert] and Jerry [Moss] are in
the building every day, around and available, and they
have a way of extracting incredible loyalty from their
employees.
LL: John, how is it different working in R&B?
BJP: Right now R&B is a producer-driven market, and
the producers are writing the songs, so they don't have
to go to anyone else. If they need a big hit they'll
go to Diane Warren or someone like that, and do the
rest themselves. Jermaine Dupri, Dallas Austin, Puff
Daddy, Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, Organized Noize, R.
Kelly -- all writer/producers. As for collaborations,
they only happen if a both writers want it to happen
-- the big writer might say, you either want my song
or you don't, because if you won't use it, someone else
will. On the other hand, no up-and-coming young kid
wants to be told what to do.
LL: I saw this happen with David Foster, he'd co-write
with someone, Lionel Richie or Madonna, and say "Check
out this chord progression, I've studied your music,
this is an area you haven't visited, let me expand your
vocabulary and together we'll take your music to a new
place."
BJP: I like my writers to work with a full spectrum
of writers, not just urban. You need to show them that
there's a whole world out there. They just want to go
platinum here; sometimes they don't even know that your
record can sell overseas, that you can have the same
song that's a hit here working with somebody else in
France that's not going to affect the version here --
it's free money! Same thing with getting songs in movies.
Executives have to have broadviews; you've got to use
all of the company's resources, and pass a tape on to
someone else if it's not your field.
AB: I can't really speak from the writers' side, but
we've tried to hook up groups, like once we tried to
hook up Outkast and Leftfield -- a great hip hop group
with a techno-based outfit. That didn't work, but things
like that can open up a different audience. And it's
not calculated for sales or spreading popularity, I
think they just like the music.
LL: Yeah, you have to put the artists together in
a social situation and hope there's a chemistry -- throw
a rock writer with a country writer or whatever and
just see what happens.
BJP: EMI does a thing every year where they send these
writers from each genre off to some castle in France.
LL: Actually, that was [Sting's longtime manager]
Miles Copeland's brainchild. It took a non-publisher
to come up with that idea, which I think is a very clever
way of creating something out of virtually nothing.
BV: It was a brilliant idea. Miles' true goal is to
justify keeping that castle (laughter), and it's also
something he does to get great collaborations for his
writers. It's 24 writers for eight days, with two days
off. They write and record a song a day in groups of
three, we rotate them every day so theoretically they
work with everyone who's there, but that doesn't usually
happen. Originally, there were six writers from Bugle,
six from Rondor, and then we hand-picked 12 others.
I would try to have eight artists who were going to
record in the not too distant future so there would
be some kind of natural outlet for the songs they wrote.
And the other four slots would be writers like Carole
King, or a big Nashville writer, or interesting international
artists. Some great relationships came out of it, and
it's wonderful to actually see the songs evolve and
come to life.
JA: Did any hits come out of it?
BV: Absolutely -- a song I placed on Celine Dion's
album was written there. And a #1 country record with
Aaron Tippin, Tal Bachman came, Swirl. It can get spread
too thin -- like Swirl wrote six songs but only recorded
one -- but you get some really interesting combinations,
and the ones you think will never work are the ones
that do.
Part 4: Where To Be Found
JA: Where do you find or look for writers?
BV: Through writers that I have signed or I know.
I have never found anything through the mail, although
I know people who have.
BJP: I've found a couple of interesting things in
the mail -- although 98% of what I get isn't quite there
yet.
JA: How much of your unsolicited material do you listen
to?
BJP: All of it -- you just never know. My assistant
and I have a system -- they all get logged with a phone
number, the date it came in, a space for my comments,
all that.
AB: The first band I ever signed I got in the mail,
actually. They're still with us -- a band called The
Picture House who does well in Europe and may be on
the verge of getting a deal here. Something else came
in through a consultant, another through hearing a song
on a compilation -- "He's a co-writer, I like this"
-- then Scout, a band from from New York, came through
both an Arista A&R guy and a scout of ours in New York.
I listen to everything that comes in. Most of it isn't
what I'm looking for, and not because it's not good
-- I hear so many good female singer/songwriters, but
I've got like ten that I'm trying to find deals for.
BJP: I always have a fear of not listening to a tape,
and three years later the writer's a huge success.
JA: What are some ways a writer can get onto your
radar?
BJP: For me it's relationships: attorneys, managers,
the writers I have now. They see what you're doing for
the writers they brought you before, and they start
shooting people your way. Now, most of them just come
my way, or I'll be listening to an album and a song
by a new writer stands out.
LL: I once saw David Sanborn opening for someone,
and his bass player was unbelievable. I just had a feeling
that he wrote songs, and it turned out to be [jazz/urban
great] Marcus Miller. That's something that my father
told me a long time ago: to keep an eye out for band
members, particularly keyboard players. Usually they
write arrangements or are the musical director and have
a good melodic sense and probably write songs: like
Barry Manilow was Bette Midler's musical director.
JA: Ben, do you get a lot of tips from other BMG companies?
Arista, RCA?
BG: Yes, I really do. One thing that connects it is,
we're all on the same e-mail system, so that makes it
really easy -- type in a few letters and the person's
name pops right up.
JA: It's amazing how something that simple can make
all the difference.
BG: It really does. There's a very strong synergy
between the companies.
LL: There's a guy at one of the big film studios who
never returns phone calls but responds to e-mail.
AB: If someone at RCA signs a band, do they automatically
bring it to BMG Publishing?
BG: Oh yeah, they're right downstairs. We talk all
the time.
LL (to BJP): Do Capitol and Virgin do that for you?
BJP: We know pretty much what they're doing, they
stay in contact with us and [EMI CEO] Marty [Bandier]
tells us things all the time. We don't get internal
memos or anything, but I'll get a note or find out from
someone in the company.
AB: I hear A&R people say all the time that they find
bands on the net. Do any of you? I just wonder if they're
making it up, because I never have time to plow through
every band on IUMA or whatever.
ALL: No.
JA: It's all very much in its infancy. Web sound is
terrible for most people, and there's usually only a
30-second clip -- I think that has prevented it from
being utilized as much as it will be very soon.
LL: There are a lot of less traditional methods you
can use to promote your writers. We made a co-publishing
deal with an independent film company where we would
be involved not only in selecting songs for the film,
but also have some of our writers work with the guy
writing the score, which can really open up the portfolio
of our writer: now he has credentials in other genres.
We did that a lot when I was at MCA because obviously
it's tied to Universal Pictures and Universal Television.
We would also do loan-out agreements to broaden a writer's
accomplishments -- loan the writer out to another studio
to write the music for a series. Even though you don't
own the publishing, you still participate in the royalties,
and you're furthering that writer's career.
We have another writer who tours with a lot of artists
as a musician: he may end up writing with those artists
or he may not, but that's another way of promoting a
writer who is also an amazing guitar player.
We also do samplers. Recently we did a CD-Rom of Paul
Anka's catalog geared for film&TV and commercial production
companies, because that's a way to get them all of the
songs in a way that makes them easy to find. It's very
user-friendly and also ties into our web site. EMI also
has a new system, and BMG has a very sophisticated search
engine for their catalog as well.
JA: Warner/Chappell's web site has something like
40,000 sound clips.
Part 5: The Rap Sheets
JA: Can we go around the room and have each of you
tell a little bit about yourselves and who your writers
are?
BJP: I'm from Colorado, I was a club DJ in Denver.
I started reading books on the industry -- Hit Men,
All You Need To Know About The Music Business, The Death
Of Rhythm & Blues. What would The Death Of
Rhythm & Blues tell me about music publishing?
I just feel you've gotta know where music came from
to know where it's going. Then I came out here and started
managing producers, both of whom had publishing deals
with EMI: one of which I secured -- Madukey Productions
-- and the other, Kiyamma McGriffin, was already signed
to EMI. When the guy who signed him left EMI for Warner
Bros. in '95, he helped me get the job.
My main writers are Tamara Savage, Warryn Campbell,
Mike Mosely -- who's got an artist on Epic now. TQ --
he worked on 2Pac and E40 -- and I also handle Jay Z
and Usher. I handle Jermaine Dupri with [EMI exec] Jody
[Gerson], 2Pac, Lost Boyz, Mo Thugs, Krazie Bone from
Bone Thugs N' Harmony, this guy named Mix-O who did
the KP&Envy record "Swing My Way." And others! Some
of the songs I had a part in acquiring were "Waterfalls"
for TLC, Monica's "Don't Take It Personally," and I've
got a song on each of their new albums.
BV: I had a friend who was working at A&M Records
and I started temping there. I temped for three weeks
and was offered three jobs: publicity, sales & marketing,
and publishing, and I chose publishing. Tom Vickers
hired me, that's when Rondor was still Almo/Irving and
still with A&M, and I worked for him for about ten days
before he left to go to Capitol -- damn! I chose the
wrong job! But they kept me, and I stayed for two years
and worked in business affairs, and then film & television.
Then I met Linda Blum and Marla McNally who were starting
a new company called Emerald Forest, and they hired
me to plug songs -- I'd never plugged songs before --
and I worked there for two years. It was hard to be
song plugger a in a small company with no catalog, but
it was an excellent, excellent education. Then I met
Ronnie Vance and he hired me at Geffen Music, and I
loved that -- we had more catalog, more writers, and
I worked with him for six months. When I went to Geffen
they had already been sold to MCA, and after six months
they started to eliminate the overlapping departments,
so we were all very unceremoniously fired.
After that experience, I didn't ever want to lose
my job because of a merger or a buyout or anything.
I wanted to go back to Rondor because I knew and loved
the catalog already: we've got the East Memphis catalog
-- Al Green and Otis Redding and the Staple Singers
-- as well as the Beach Boys and the Carpenters. I've
been there now for six years, and was promoted to general
manager a year ago January, and it's my home.
My main writers are Will Jennings, a young writer/producer
who's starting to blow up named Greg Wells -- he had
an Aerosmith record, he co-wrote my Celine Dion song
"The Reason," he's co-written and producing the new
Crash Test Dummies record. I have Mark Mueller, who
wrote "That's What Love Is For" for Amy Grant, and Jennifer
Paige's "Crush." We also publish Blues Traveler, Melissa
Etheridge, and Garbage.
BG: I went to Berklee School of Music in Boston, majoring
in performance and songwriting -- studying, writing
and playing as much music as possible. When I graduated,
I moved to New York and figured I'd work in a publishing
company during the day and be a musician at night. I
was hired by a wonderful woman named Molly Kaye at Almo/Irving,
doing tape copying there, just getting my taste for
publishing. From there I worked at PolyGram Music for
Holly Greene, doing a little song-plugging. Meanwhile,
Molly Kaye, who had moved to BMG in LA, offered me a
job as a song plugger. So I moved out here blindly,
and I've been at BMG for two years and a few months.
I really into this because of my love of songs, and
the more time I spend in publishing, the more I realize
I'll be doing this for the rest of my life. My main
writers are these great songcrafters from Vancouver
named Sean Hosein and Dane Deviller, they had their
first hit last year with "Invisible Man" by 98 Degrees
and other cuts on Amy Grant, All-4-One, etc. I also
work with Dave Stewart, formerly of Eurythmics, Ashley
Ingram (co-wrote "You Gotta Be" for Des'ree), Manuel
Seal who co-wrote the last three Usher hits, Phil Thornalley,
Jim Brickman, Stephen Bishop, Charlotte Caffey (formerly
of the Go-Gos), Teron Beal, Jeff Pescetto, Rashad Coes
and even some great current writers that have tremendous
catalogs, like the Gibb Brothers [aka the Bee Gees],
John Hiatt, Tommy Sims, etc.
LL: What about Natalie Imbruglia?
JA: "Torn" was actually written by Phil Thornalley
--
BV: With Ann Previn and Scott Cutler. And that song
is seven years old, which just goes to show that a good
song is a good song and it will eventually find its
way. Ann's original demo was pretty much like Natalie's
version.
AB: I worked in a chicken factory! Then I interned
for Chrysalis in London in '91, then interned for them
over here, tape room, mail room, reception, then finally
started doing song-plugging, and I was probably the
worst song-plugger in history: I got like four songs
covered in a year-and-a-half, a couple of really dodgy
ones, too! I signed one writer in that time who we actually
picked up an award for the other night, Stacy Piersa,
who did well toward the end of her time at Chrysalis.
Then I moved into International, because there was always
a problem between us and the English office, and that's
basically it. My main writers over here are a guy named
Craig Kafton -- it was a team effort, he's been developing
this artist named Reiss who put out a single on Mercury
--
BV: [starts singing song]
AB: Well! That's good to hear! John Lowery, who's
now with Marilyn Manson and also recently wrote LPs
with Two (on Nothing Records) and David Lee Roth. Scout,
from New York, who are my most precious developing band.
And the UK and international writers I get involved
with depending on how much help they need -- like I'm
helping Baxter to find distribution for their independent
label that they have on the side. I love working with
international and developing acts.
LL: I've got a question for you guys, because my experience
in the business is slightly different in that I grew
up in it -- I was named after a music publishing company!
My father [Leeds Music founder Lou Levy, after whom
this Round Table is named] started with a couple of
guys named Sammy Cohn -- who changed his name to Sammy
Cahn -- and Saul Kaplan -- changed his name to Saul
Chaplin -- and during the Great Depression, they were
all poor kids from the Lower East Side. His idea was
to innovate and sell and market songs, and I am very
fortunate to have been subconsciously or subliminally
being taught a lot about the business.
I started working for ASCAP in the mid-'70s, collecting
license fees in Brooklyn and Staten Island -- talk about
street-level, trying to collect money from a bar-owner
at 4AM in Brooklyn! Then I joined the membership department,
then a guy who had worked for my father introduced me
to the Elton John gang. I established their American
music publishing operations -- and boy, it's a lot easier
to get your phone calls returned when you say you're
from the Elton John organization! Then I worked at MCA,
then eventually had my own firm, and I've been with
Chrysalis for two years.
Part 6: Don't They Teach This In School?
LL: But my question is, where are they training the
executives for tomorrow? If our industry ends up being
run by -- I mean, I've got nothing against MBAs or accountants
as long as they're music publishers first, but if you've
got someone coming directly from Diet Coke to EMI Music,
I think that's going to be a problem for our industry.
Where is the mentoring going to come from?
BV: There's not much of a training ground.
BJP: I would probably agree, but I'd also say that
a lot of kids coming in now think they're at level ten
already. It's like you're a basketball coach with players
who are so talented, but they're just uncoachable --
you understand what I'm saying? You have to show yourself
worthy of being trained, or usually they'll sort of
let you just be there -- "Oh, he's okay, he's finding
some cool stuff."
LL: He's a great player but he'll never be a great
coach.
BV: It's interesting -- especially at record companies,
youth is being hired over experience. If you don't have
the experience to guide the youth, you have nothing.
LL: But experienced executives don't guide the youth,
they don't want to guide the youth. They're protecting
their gigs, keeping everything close to the vest.
BJP: No one wants to reach out and say, "This is how
you should do this." They'll just watch you fall rather
than try to catch you. If that's going to change, I
think it has to start with every individual looking
in the mirror and saying, "I'm not going to be that
way." Most people don't learn from the mistakes of others
-- although successful people do. My writers and I will
be in my office till all hours of the night just talking,
because I want them to understand what this business
is really about. You've gotta be able to talk their
language, because sometimes if you tell someone to do
something, they're not gonna do it. You've got to tell
them in their way, and creatively push them. But there
is definitely a gap between the older executives and
the up-and-coming ones.
LL: They do have mentoring in Nashville, and from
my experience, Nashville's community of executives is
the best-trained, across the board. They have a thing
called Leadership Music Nashville where they give you
one-on-one contact with more experienced executives:
imagine sitting with Clive Davis all day talking about
different situations -- it's almost like the Castle
sessions, except with executives. Nashville has always
tried to reinvest in their executive talent as well
as their musical talent.
Part 7: The Ever-Changing Biz/Pay For Play
JA: How do you think the business will be affected
by the Universal/Polygram merger [which will consolidate
MCA and Polygram Publishing]?
BV: I think that kind of situation makes things better
for smaller companies, because a lot of writers won't
want to be folded into a huge roster. When you're number
70 on a writer list of 150, how much attention will
you get? I think that's why so many writers don't want
a co-pub deal, because they feel like they're doing
it all themselves.
AB: John, how does it work at EMI? You must have a
ton of writers, does EMI really sign the amount of acts
that we perceive they do?
BJP: It seems that regardless of what we have, everyone
seems to get taken care of. It never seems like too
much. Some people have five writers, I have 15 or 20,
but it doesn't seem like a lot. It's probably a little
different for the alternative bands, because you're
talking about bands where you might not have to deal
with them day-to-day.
LL: I'm more concerned about pay-for-play at radio,
quite frankly. It's starting now in country, but it's
going to happen in pop and R&B. It's already expensive
to promote in radio anyway, and I've got to assume that
record companies are going to come to publishers and
say, "If your song is played on the radio, you earn
money, so we think you should contribute to this promotional
campaign." You guys are worried about songwriters cutting
in -- I'm worried about record companies!
BG: Hasn't that happened already?
LL: Yes, for independent promotion money, and in the
scheme of things, that was a relatively manageable amount
of money. But one radio network is talking about a campaign
for $20,000 or $40,000 for just their network of country
stations -- and from there you go to how long they'll
play it, and how many spins you're guaranteed. Then
you get other radio station chains saying they'll cross
it over to pop radio, guaranteeing you this much play,
and at the end of the day you're talking about something
like $150,000 that you didn't have to spend before.
Maybe it will make the record companies shift their
priorities and figure that, since they can't get anything
played on MTV anyway, they might as well spend $150,000
on pay-for-play instead of a video.
What really concerns me is the long-term effect distorts
the marketplace -- what you hear on the radio is not
what people want to hear, and they won't even get to
hear what they might want to hear. They're being fed
songs because a broadcaster made a deal with the record
company that paid the most. It's just a matter of time
until the record companies, particularly the indies,
come to us with their hands out.
Anyway, I hope that the internet will open up a new
channel that will not be as constrained as either MTV
or radio as we know it. The internet doesn't care how
old you are, what color you are, what car you drive,
where you live or anything -- and if people can be reached
with some entertainment that they like, they may click
and buy.
I hope it will make for a much broader consumer base
for music. Record companies have narrowcast their research
down to who the consumers of certain records are going
to be -- and yet they still get blindsided by several
records a year where they have no clue who buys them.
The best example of that is Titanic: Sony couldn't give
that record away internally -- every label turned it
down, and finally Sony Classical said, "Okay, we'll
pay the $700,000 -- and maybe we'll sell 300,000 copies."
[The album has sold over 10 million units in the US
alone.] I think there is a lack of understanding of
who buys records, who potentially can buy records, and
how to reach the people who may want to buy a record.
BJP: I don't know what you guys think about this,
but I think there might be a scam being run with the
record and publishing companies with a major Los Angeles
radio station. All you've got to do is get a song played
on that station, and you can get a record deal, a publishing
deal -- and six weeks later the station may drop the
record, but you've cashed in, and everyone's gotten
their kickbacks. I know it's happening. I hear this
station mentioned so much: someone says, "I hear this
station' s [playing] it" and all the sudden everybody
goes crazy. I think there's a big scam going on, and
it won't come out until there's another Hit Men or something.
Hell, I was a DJ, I know that if you play something
enough times you'll get requests for it.
It seems so easy -- let's talk hypothetically: I'm
a manager, I go to the radio station, "I've got this
band" -- who's a decent enough band -- "play this record
for six weeks and I'll give you $100,000." I can get
the $500,000 publishing deal, the $350-400,000 record
deal, and after that, $100,000 is nothing!
LL: That's nothing compared to Europe. I remember,
if you had a summer record that you wanted to get played
in the South of France, you made a deal with a radio
station and gave them half the publishing. So we did
that and we thought it would be a big hit, but we wound
up getting no airplay because the publishers of the
B-side gave them 100% of the publishing and received
all of the radio play!
Part 8: The Other
JA: What is the biggest misperception that writers
have about music publishers, and vice-versa.
AB: The first one's easy -- the bank one.
LL: That we're banks, parasites, insurance agents...
BV: That we don't do anything.
AB: They're also wise to the fact that a lot of publishers
and label people tend to be reasonably young kids that
kinda look like them and act like them and have the
same musical opinions as them -- and they're deliberately
planted there to win these bands over. I think the bands
are getting smart to that and they don't trust anyone
anymore. But then again, can we trust them or their
managers?
JA: Do you ever feel like a plant?
AB: No, and I think I'm maybe too honest with the
artists when I say, "This is what I am, this is what
Chrysalis is, this is what we're prepared to do for
you." I try not to slag off other companies --
LL: He leaves that to me! (laughter)
AB: Because you can't say that EMI and Warner/Chappell
and Rondor and Windswept and Peer and whoever else don't
do anything for their writers, because obviously they
do.
LL: I also appreciate it from the writer's perspective:
It's essentially a private business, they struggle,
there's overwhelming frustration -- I don't think I
could do it, quite honestly. Even if you're an A&R person
who doesn't have the authority to green-light a project
-- at least he's got a paycheck for the moment, the
writer's completely out of a job.
BV: That's like when songs get put on hold. This is
this writer's livelihood: a major label CEO will hold
a song for a year or two years, sometimes, and even
then there's still no guarantee that it's ever going
to come out. And maybe the contemporary feel of that
song has expired -- you have to invest more money to
demo it again, maybe the trend has changed --
BJP: If someone holds a song too long, nobody'll want
it. I went through that recently, where two people wanted
a song, one wanted to keep it on hold, the other wanted
to cut it right away -- and I went with the cut. You
know how people act when they want something -- they'll
reach out. Puffy will call up and say "Yo, this is my
song, isn't it?" I know he's interested -- and I want
my songs placed on projects where the passion is. "Come
on! Let's do this!" That's passion.
Part 9: The Numbers
BJP: But I think some of the misperception is just
lack of education. And not knowing what the numbers
are. A lot of writers think if they sell 500,000 records
they should get $2 million -- they don't know that they
only generated $350,000. It's a penny business -- and
those pennies do add up to dollars, but you've gotta
know what the pennies are.
That's what I like about publishing: if you're smart,
you know the numbers -- hell, you'd better know the
numbers! -- and to me, it's a safer bet working with
songwriters and publishing than records. Because a songwriter
could have a song on, say, the next Celine Dion album,
but if that album catches a brick, that's okay, because
they have songs on nine other projects. There are more
chances with a songwriter than with an artist -- at
a major label, if you put the record out and it only
sells 50,000 copies, the band gets dropped and you're
fired! With publishing, well, that project didn't do
that well, but we've got this song placed on this movie
and we've got this cut in French -- there are so many
opportunities to generate money if you take advantage.
BV: I think it's the more creative job.
LL: Unfortunately, I think writers have heard more
negative stories about publishers than positive ones,
so there's probably some validity for a writer to have
misconceptions about what a publisher can or can't do.
I'm a businessperson: sometimes I'm an investment banker,
sometimes an A&R person, an agent, a psychiatrist, it
all depends. Not all experiences are the same, and there's
no one more anonymous than a music publisher. We are
at the very low-profile end of a very high-profile business,
and what you hear are the horror stories.
AB: I think one thing that is always discounted is
the actual amount of time we put in -- it's always about
how much money and did you get this or do this, the
actual time you're taking away from other writers or
artists that you're developing, especially new artists.
BV: I could have become a psychiatrist and made a
hell of a lot more money. It's all the same skills!
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