http://www.salon.com/ent/music/feature/2001/12/19/music_industry/print.html
Music industry in the pits!
Record sales are down, no one's seeing concerts, no one's advertising on
radio and the stars are revolting!
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By Eric Boehlert
Dec. 19, 2001 | The cover of critically acclaimed rocker Ryan Adams'
latest release, "Gold," features the young, scruffy singer in
front of an upside-down American flag. The artwork's meant to be Adams'
way of sending out a distress signal on behalf of today's rock 'n' roll.
But the truth is, while the music business stumbles to the year's end,
destined to post its first sales decline in a decade, that upside-down
flag could just as easily represent a distress signal on behalf of the
entire music industry.
The music industry is powered by four crucial engines: record labels,
radio, the touring industry and retail record stores. And they are all
sputtering with a grim array of problems.
Napster is hobbled, but music swapping online remains a gleeful pleasure
for millions of computer users who have lost interest in actually paying
for CDs. Venerable record chains like Tower Records have been on the
verge of going out of business. The alternative-rock/country/rap
explosion of the 1990s is over, and few new acts are selling -- even as
consumers are turning up their noses at superstar perennials, too.
Major labels have been battered by losses and layoffs, radio station
owners are wallowing in an advertising recession, and the concert
business lost millions of ticket buyers in just the last year.
Meanwhile, an increasingly large number of usually obedient artists are
making noises about staging an unprecedented open revolt, determined to
win from record companies what they insist is their fair share of the
profits.
"It's not a pretty picture," says longtime music attorney Jay
Cooper. "In fact it's an awful picture. This is not business as
usual, or a periodic downturn."
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Cooper argues that the current slump represents more than just the latest
dip in the music business' familiar cyclical pattern. He says fundamental
problems exist that cannot be fixed no matter what new, potent musical
trend is lurking on the horizon.
Others disagree. "There's an awful lot of Chicken Little, but the
sky is not falling," insists Frank Callari, senior vice president of
A&R at Lost Highway Records, home to Lucinda Williams, among others.
"I'm pretty optimistic." ("A&R," standing for
"artists and repertoire," is the industry's name for the execs
who sign acts.)
Even for the industry optimists, the first quarter of 2000, when sales
were up 12 percent over the previous year, must now seem like a lifetime
ago. By contrast, as the final days of 2001 tick off, music sales are
down 5 percent from last year, according to SoundScan, which 10 years ago
began tabulating music sales with some exactitude, using scanning
technology as albums were purchased. Worse, sales of current releases --
that's not counting older catalog material, just albums shipped out
within the last 18 months -- are off 6 percent, year-to-date.
The traumatic terrorist attack of Sept. 11 and subsequent consumer
fallout, when the concert business virtually came to a standstill and
shopping patterns were disrupted for weeks, only exacerbated what had
been glaring music industry weaknesses.
"The business is broke and that just accelerated the decline,"
says one veteran. "This is not a growth industry." (The one
bright spot is contemporary Christian and gospel music; sales have spiked
since Sept. 11.)
For instance, the concert business was already off 12 percent through the
first six months, according to Pollstar magazine. Worse, actual concert
attendance fell 16 percent during the first half of the year. Nobody
thinks those numbers will improve when the receipts for the second six
months of the year are tallied.
"Lots of promoters have been trying to use the Osama excuse,"
according to one concert industry pro. "But by Sept. 11 the outdoor
summer amphitheater season was basically done."
What's the real reason? Some people say it's high ticket prices.
"Weak business has more to do with issues of pricing than the trauma
of war," that pro continues. There are both higher ticket prices and
expanding ticket surcharges. For instance, a pair of $49.50 tickets to
see Britney Spears at the MCI Center in Washington on Dec. 21 come
complete with an astonishing $25.40 worth of add-on service fees.
Ticketmaster charges a $15.90 "convenience charge" for the
privilege of buying tickets. (Safeway is prevented from demanding a
"convenience charge" for shopping in its stores because the
customer has alternatives, a state of affairs that does not apply to
Ticketmaster, which handles the fare gate for a large part of the concert
industry.) There is an additional $3.50 "handling fee" as well.
And finally, there is a $6 "building facility charge," sort of
a tax to walk into the MCI Center. (Traditionally, venues like the MCI
Center also have some portion of the Ticketmaster fees kicked back to
them as well.)
Totals like that can give consumers pause. "People don't experiment
anymore, not with the tickets $50 and up," notes Ray Waddell, who
covers the touring business for Billboard magazine.
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Consumers don't seem to experiment when buying CDs either. The laundry
list of underperforming 2001 releases by previously platinum-selling
names includes Macy Gray, Michael Jackson, George Strait, Paul McCartney,
Snoop Dogg, Jessica Simpson, Tori Amos, Sisqo, RZA, R.E.M., Mick Jagger,
Rod Stewart, Lenny Kravitz, Prince and Mariah Carey.
Meanwhile, critical acclaim has not been able to turn the latest, widely
hyped releases from Angie Stone, Bob Dylan, Radiohead, Ryan Adams, Pete
Yorn, Nikka Costa or Travis into real commercial contenders either.
Accountants looking for a sales boost from a slate of superstar
fourth-quarter releases have been disappointed. Labels are rolling out
their best shots during the make-or-break holiday shopping season (Garth
Brooks, Britney Spears, Creed, Kid Rock, Jewel, DMX, Master P, Limp
Bizkit, along with greatest hits from Pink Floyd, Madonna, the Bee Gees,
Smashing Pumpkins and Green Day), but to date it's not working.
For the first two crucial weeks after Thanksgiving, album sales were down
an alarming 15 percent compared to the same time period last year,
according to SoundScan -- despite dramatic efforts to drum up business by
national music chains such as Coconuts and the Wiz, which sold CDs for $9
during special holiday promotions, losing money on every disc sold.
(Retailers buy top-line CDs from labels for more than $10.)
In an unusual bout of boosterism, the Recording Industry Association of
America even commissioned a poll to find out that 79 percent of people
consider a CD the type of gift they would "like a lot" this
holiday season.
Still, music industry veterans are wondering where their "Harry
Potter" is, or at least their "Monsters Inc." -- a piece
of irresistible pop product that has consumers reaching for their wallets
during the fourth quarter.
This time last year it was the Beatles' "1" along with the
since-faded Backstreet Boys and their "Black & Blue." Both
were selling at the clip of more than 500,000 CDs a week. Currently only
God-fearing rock band Creed and their "Weathered" release is
doing truly blockbuster business, having sold nearly 2 million copies in
just three weeks time.
"I don't know if there's a companion album for Creed to run
with," says Geoff Mayfield, Billboard magazine's director of charts.
But Mayfield stresses that whatever declines the business sustains this
year have to be kept in context. Last year also saw monster records from
Eminem, Britney Spears and 'N Sync, which are difficult to replicate.
"In 2000 we had six albums that sold a million-plus in their first
week. Before last year we'd never had six albums sell 1 million copies
their first week, period. When we're all done this year the numbers will
stack up handsomely."
Those on the front lines of music retail, though, aren't so optimistic.
"It's the worst year in our history," reports Carl Singmaster,
who's been running Manifest Disc & Tapes, now a seven-store chain in
the Southeast, for 17 years. He's the type of grass-roots music retailer
who's served as the industry's foundation for decades and often enjoyed
double-digit growth each year. Suddenly, Singmaster doesn't like what he
sees: "I'm very concerned about what kind of future there is for
music retails like me."
"I'd say across the board [sales] for mom-and-pop music stores are
down 11 percent this year," says Don Van Cleve, president of the
Coalition of Independent Music Stores. "It's always been a tough
business, but now it's a brutal one."
Just ask the suits at Trans World Entertainment, the country's largest
music retailer and the owner of nearly 1,000 record shops, including
Camelot, Strawberries and the chain that calls itself "fye."
Through the first three quarters Trans World posted a net loss of $17
million. It's never a good sign when an industry's No. 1 retailer
routinely fails to post a profit.
At least Trans World outperformed Tower Records. The 41-year-old chain,
which started as a Sacramento drugstore and during the '80s championed
CDs while turning its enormous catalog-stuffed stores into cultural
meeting places, lost $40 million over the first nine months of the year.
By contrast, in 1995 the chain pocketed $15 million in profits. A
last-minute deal with creditors in October allowed Tower to keep its
doors open, at least through next April.
Music retailers have a laundry list of concerns, such as sky-high $19.98
CD list prices set by record companies, the shrinking pool of commercial
singles (see related story) and major labels' rewarding mass merchants
like Best Buy with exclusive product. (U2's recent DVD concert release
was shipped to Best Buy two weeks before any other retailer.)
"There's a million things going on and none of them are
positive," complains Van Cleve.
The record labels are generally implacable in the face of complaints
about rising prices. Decades of experience has shown them that when fans
really want a new record -- whether it's Garth Brooks, Madonna, the
Backstreet Boys or the hot new band of the moment -- resistance to new,
higher prices evaporates. The trouble today is that not as many fans want
the new BSB or Garth Brooks, and there is no dominant commercial trend.
The music business is to some extent dependent on the vicissitudes of pop
culture; most observers agree that, after a decade of often double-digit
growth, driven first by the hard rock band Nirvana and then by
record-breaking teenybopper artists like 'N Sync and Britney Spears, the
industry is looking for a new focus.
That problem is exacerbated by the continued runaway sales of blank,
recordable CDs, or CD-Rs. As Salon reported last year, lots of music
retailers find themselves in the awkward position of watching CD-Rs
become the bestselling item in their stores, while at the same time
realizing CD-Rs could literally drive them out of business. Thanks to CD
burners hooked up to computers, the phenomenon of file sharing introduced
to the masses last year by Napster, and popular at-home CD taping
courtesy of Phillips stereo components, millions of consumers are simply
making their own CDs and taking a giant bite out of over-the-counter
sales.
For instance, industry observers used to be able to look at a superstar's
first-day sales numbers and, based on a reliable formula, be able to
project how many copies that album would sell after seven days in stores.
Now with CD-Rs, labels often see a big first-day sales number and then
watch it tail off over the next six days, falling short of projections.
"We saw that with the last Blink-182 record," says Mayfield at
Billboard. "If you looked at first-day sales you'd think it was
going to have a huge week. Yet it only ended up having a very good week.
Some labels are starting to worry that, you know, Charlie bought one copy
and made three copies for his friends."
Industry analysts predict 1.2 billion blank CD-R discs will be purchased
this year in North America, an increase of 50 percent over last year. By
comparison, roughly 750 million pieces of prepackaged music will be sold
domestically in 2001.
It's not just the dirt-cheap CD-Rs themselves, it's the presumption among
so many young consumers, radicalized by Napster, that music should be
free. "I think it's going to be difficult to recapture people who
stopped paying for music," says Singmaster. "According to their
value system, they shouldn't pay for music."
That attitude does not bode well for XM and Sirius, two fledgling
satellite radio firms launching a service that offers digital-quality,
sometimes commercial-free programming. If fans don't want to pay $16 for
CDs, will they pay more than $100 each year for something like radio,
which has always been free?
Then again, the radio business is hurting so badly right now, in what
some veterans are calling the sharpest advertising downturn since World
War II, a few station owners might be tempted to charge listeners a fee.
According to Radio Advertising Bureau, local advertising in September
declined 12 percent compared to last year, while radio's national
business plunged 23 percent. This is an industry that, two years ago
during the dot-com boom, was facing the very different problem of not
being able to put willing new advertisers on the air; station inventories
were sold out.
The downturn helps explain why radio's biggest player, Clear Channel
Communications, recently lost $232 million in the third quarter. (One
year ago during the same period, Clear Channel reported a net income of
$449 million.) Earning reports like that in turn help explain why Clear
Channel just axed 48 employees at its Los Angeles radio stations.
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In the past, laid-off radio executives often found refuge working at
record companies. But anyone pink-slipped from radio recently isn't
likely to find many record companies hiring.
For the six months ending Sept. 30, the London-based EMI Group, home to
Capitol (Garth Brooks) and Virgin Records (Janet Jackson), posted a net
loss of $77 million. It's widely known to be on the selling block; the
problem is that EMI has no takers. After all, who wants to enter the
profit-challenged music business right now?
Meanwhile, one year ago Thomas Middelhoff, the chairman of the German
entertainment conglomerate Bertelsmann, was toasted in the press as a
visionary when his BMG Entertainment (home of RCA, Arista and Windham
Hill Records, among others) broke with fellow major labels and entered
into an $80 million deal with bad-boy file-sharing outpost Napster to
help it transform itself into a paid subscription service. Today, Napster
remains a commercial nonentity and BMG has had to dismantle its online
strategy.
Worse, the company recently posted a net loss of $73.1 million through
September, even after laying off 20 percent of its workforce. BMG has
slipped from being No. 2 in U.S. music sales last year (behind industry
behemoth Universal Music) to No. 4 this year.
Smaller indie labels took hits this year too, when record distributor
DNA, the all-important middleman that physically gets CDs into stores,
went bankrupt last month. In industry down times, distributors like DNA
are particularly vulnerable, and their collapse leaves chaos. Indies have
had to scramble to find new means of distribution, and cash flow is
immediately affected; more important, DNA closed its doors while owing
some record companies tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars in
billings. Smaller labels can find a loss like that fatal. And with fewer
labels, there will be fewer chances for new acts to get signed.
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Then again, some acts currently under contract may wish they weren't --
or at least they may wish they hadn't signed the contract they did. A new
advocacy group, the Recording Artist Coalition, led by Don Henley, is the
first of its kind for artists and is starting to ask pointed questions
about how labels do business. Contentious issues include royalties earned
from online subscription services, the number of years artists are
contractually obligated to stay at one label and who is the real
copyright owner of a finished CD.
The topic of artist contracts has always been a swamp of discontent, a
seemingly intractable mix of traditional industry exploitation, superstar
egos and the natural imbalanced economics of the music business, where
nine out of 10 records lose money, and somebody has to pay for the flops.
The system is far from perfect, but artists lucky enough to make a
handsome living have begged off trying to fix it. Until now.
"The music business is big business and record labels want to
maximize their profits. That's OK," says music attorney Cooper, who
represents the 120-member coalition. "Artists are simply asking
what's fair as far as profits are concerned."
Unfortunately, after the year the music business just experienced,
splitting up profits is a luxury that not many industry players will have
to worry about.