Lyin' Eyes
The Recording Artists Coalition's bogus crusade to save the little guy.
By Martin Edlund
Posted Monday, February 11, 2002, at 3:12 PM PT
http://slate.msn.com/?id=2061830&device=

Musicians' rights is the sort of thing that sounds difficult to oppose,
like teacher pay raises or safer streets. So it's no surprise that the
Concerts for Artist Rights, which will take place Feb. 26—on the eve of
this year's Grammy Awards—has met with widespread support. It will span
four Los Angeles venues and involve 14 name acts including The Eagles,
Billy Joel, Stevie Nicks, Sheryl Crow, No Doubt, The Offspring, The Dixie
Chicks, Trisha Yearwood, Beck, and Eddie Vedder. Organizers expect to raise
$5 million for the artist trade group the Recording Artists Coalition.


It's a seductive image—Don Henley, Nicks, and the others arm-in-arm,
fighting for the legal rights of the less fortunate in their trade. And
it's one they would have you believe: The posters for the concerts depict a
giant raised fist clenching a guitar with many smaller fists beneath it,
presumably big artists fighting for the little guys. According to
California State Sen. Kevin Murray, "It isn't just artists, it's artists
and pipe fitters and all of the other organized labor folks." The AFL-CIO
has even endorsed their efforts. But this is Goliath in David's clothing:
The superstar artists lending their celebrity to the RAC are the ones who
will benefit from it. In fact, they're the only ones.

The RAC was founded by Henley and Crow two years ago to counter the
lobbying presence of the major record labels—Sony, Warner Bros., Universal,
and others—and their political arm, the Recording Industry Association of
America. Though not all RAC members are as famous as Henley and Crow,
they're the ones driving the agenda. The present escalation of their
efforts is inspired by two issues. One is the "seven-year rule," an arcane
bit of California labor law that limits contracts for personal service to
seven years. Thanks to a 1987 amendment, record labels can sue for damages
on undelivered albums even after the seven-year mark has passed,
effectively eliminating the protection. The RAC wants the exception
stripped and is pushing for a seven-year limit on contracts at the federal
level as well. The other issue is "work for hire," a provision of federal
copyright law that lets record companies retain ownership of their artists'
recordings in perpetuity.


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Both of these rules certainly can hit hard. Last September, 19-year-old
country star LeAnn Rimes told a California Senate committee that she had
been under contract with her label, Curb Records, since the age of 12 and
would be until she was 35. But the dirty little secret of the seven-year
rule is that it has little bearing on any but the most popular acts. Less
successful major-label artists (those that can't crack the 500,000 sales
mark) are usually written off as bad investments and freed from their
contracts well before seven years; independent labels rarely sign artists
to long-term contracts in the first place as they can recoup their
investments with more modest sales.

The same can be said of work for hire. Though a standard part of the
major-label contract, work-for-hire provisions are rare outside the
big-five labels. They're aimed at artists, like Henley, whose catalogues
have lasting value. On both issues, Congress has become little more than
another front for superstar artists to negotiate with their record labels.

But if the RAC is a thorn in the side of major labels, it's potentially a
spear in the side of other artist groups. Brian Austin Whitney, who runs
Just Plain Folks, an organization of 13,000 mostly independent artists,
says, "I talk to a lot of people who mistakenly think [the RAC] represent
every artist, when they actually only represent a small number of artists
at the very top of the industry." The concerns of independent artists tend
more toward the mundane: disability insurance, maybe retirement. "I don't
think that Don Henley has to worry about health insurance," says Whitney,
"but 98 percent of our members do."

In the end, the RAC may be no better for fans. One outcome of a seven-year
limit on recording contracts would be that major labels would have to
commit more of their resources to keeping highly successful acts, upping
their contracts every few years. There would be less money for signing new
artists, resulting in fewer opportunities for aspiring musicians and
narrowing choices for fans. This doesn't appear to bother Henley terribly.
He told the California legislature, "If [major labels] would sign less
artists, I think everybody would be better off." After all, who needs to
hear new artists when there's another Don Henley album out?

But the RAC may have a limited shelf life: Its popularity, even among rich
artists, seems to be fleeting. Last month the group staged a follow-up
visit to Sacramento, but this time without LeAnn Rimes—who appears to have
put politics behind her since renegotiating her contract with Curb Records.
Rimes' official Web site includes her recent wedding announcement and
pictures of her new teacup Chihuahua, Precious, but it makes no mention of
her former political crusade. The details of her new Curb contract were not
made public, but the smart money says that it will keep her there for more
than seven years. If only the RAC had a similar claim on its artists.