Skip to main content

Rules by Bob Lefsetz

What better way to celebrate 200 posts than by giving you the work of someone else? :-) I've been a fan of the writer Bob Lefsetz ever since I got on his mailing list at the recommendation of Tom T. Ball, and while I don't always agree with everything he says, he hits the mark more often than not.  Today, he posted another variation of one of his big ideas -- navigating the 21st Century entertainment field -- which I wanted to share without any edits.  What follows is Bob's rules on "making it" in the music biz today, but I would argue that it's also about a general creative urge and the market for that creativity.  Makes me wish I had talent.  Here's Bob's ten rules to remember:

1. No one is waiting for your album. 
2. Social networking is not about driving momentary sales but creating a relationship. That's your new role. To be available and in touch with your audience each and every day. To be a land mine that someone can step on if they suddenly hear about you. Think how you discover something and immediately research it. Google is the most powerful force in music, not radio. You want to be number one in the search results and you want a plethora of information so that when someone decides to check you out they can find out your bio, personality and listen to your music. You should be thrilled that someone cares about you. Your door should be open. Making it hard to enter your front door is akin to having a retail establishment with a locked entrance. Yes, clubs utilize velvet ropes, but they have a tiny audience inside. Then again, if you believe you're only entitled to a tiny audience, have a huge cover charge and sell overpriced drinks. Which is kind of like when Bon Jovi and the Eagles go on tour. Those are dead acts. You've got to be alive. If you're not growing, you're over.
 
3. Keep making music. 
4. Keep improving your music. 
5. You can no longer have too much music. It's like saying there are too many books in the library. Your goal is to get so good that when someone checks you out, they find a lot to experience and marinate in. Don't worry about separating the wheat from the chaff, your audience will do this. 
6. Playing live is no longer about faithful repetition of the hits. You're better off being like Phish than a Top Forty act playing to hard drive. Since all the money's in live, you've got to get people to come more than once. Which requires cheap tickets. Mumford & Sons has this right. Audience members feel better when they can't get into a show with cheap ducats. It's when they can't get a ticket to a show with overpriced tickets that they get angry at the act. And if your fans are angry at you, you're on the road to oblivion. 
7. Don't worry if people hate you. Have an identity. The hooks of your personality are like one side of Velcro, the loops are the audience. You don't need every loop to catch on a hook to create a strong, healthy bond, just enough.
 
8. Don't worry about the genre of music you're playing, just whether it's good. 
9. If there's no viral action on your music, you're just not good enough. Don't get mad at the audience, get mad at yourself. Either give up or get better. 
10. It might be tempting to break all these rules and play the old game. Where the amount of music is minimal and it's all about marketing. But if you pursue that avenue it's like selling typewriters, like being Facebook, king of the web with an inadequate mobile strategy, like being Microsoft, making your coin on legacy objects which are fading in the rearview mirror. The turning point is now. As for mystery, the web killed that. We're all in it together. It's not about keeping people away, but letting them in. Be thrilled that anybody cares.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

NBC -- Never Believe Contracts

Whatever side you're falling on in the recent NBC late-night "deck chairs on the Titanic " shuffle, you have to admit it's been good comedy for all parties involved. While Letterman and Craig Ferguson have been sharp (especially Letterman, who has been gleeful in his "I told you so" vitriol), the best bits have come from Leno and O'Brien. Evidence: It's hard to follow all the angles here, but two things are clear: NBC violated Leno's contract (guaranteeing the 10pm slot), and NBC didn't violate O'Brien's contract (which made no time slot guarantees). So it's not hard to see who the loser here will be. O'Brien won't get the show he wants, Leno will step into a hollow echo of his past success, and tens of millions of dollars will be up in the air. Only Jimmy Fallon will continue to gestate his talent relatively unmolested, and his security is merely a function of the low expectations of his time slot. Meanwhile, CBS (a

"The Silver Gun" by Robert Palmer (1983)

I mean...Urdu? Seriously, Urdu . On an already eclectic and worldly album -- Pride , from 1983 -- "The Silver Gun" closes a chapter in Robert Palmer's career by singing a song about a horse in a language spoken daily by over 100 million people. The liquid bass line and propulsive electronics set out a bedrock for Palmer to ping phrasings rather out of place in Western music, askew astride even the peripatetic minimalism of the rest of the record. Somehow, in the middle of Michigan's Appalachia, I had this on vinyl a few years before the CD era officially commenced. It was an album of effort -- even the cover, a pointillism-and-bronze work, had Palmer's head barely above the water -- but the stitches didn't show to my pre-adolescent eyes and ears. In a career marked by zigs and zags, Pride and "The Silver Gun" were most certainly Other, and for a kid that felt like he didn't belong much of anywhere, it was nice to have those discrete feeling

"I'll Drive You Home"

Upon reflection, I’ve had a fortunate life in the area of work. As a freshly minted teenager, I would visit Evergreen Park Grocery and dream of someday working there like my father did, and at the age of 14, I got $2/hour to live out that dream, such as it was. From there, I yearned to try other occupations, from record stores to teaching, and I’d be chuffed to tell Young Erick that both of those things happened in due course. ( Oh, and Young Erick, one of them got you to meet David Bowie, and one of them got you to own houses and cars, so I’ll let you ponder on which one was better. ) I even got to DJ a bit here and there, and while it never hit the heights of a professional radio gig, it was certainly better than the summer I played preset cassettes on my boom box for a nerd camp dance while my unrequited crush stayed in her room. What I never crossed off my professional life list was acting, either regular or voice, but while I still yearn for that big breakthrough -- seriously, ask