Hank Bordowitz. Dirty Little Secrets of the Record Business: Why So Much Music You Hear Sucks. Chicago: Chicago Review Press, 2007.

One could go on and on about the ills of the music industry. Who’s to blame, why it’s happened, and what the future holds is prime fodder for the popular press, critics, and bloggers these days. But readers many times get the surface treatment. Hank Bordowitz offers a more detailed and a well-outlined history of how we got here in Dirty Little Secrets of the Record Business.

Record labels, distribution companies, commercial radio, and retailers have together and separately been blamed for the declines in the recording industry. Consolidations, panicky control measures, the lure of quick and easy windfalls, and practices that don’t necessarily pass the sniff test have affected all of these players at varying degrees through the years. Bordowitz expertly outlines those developments in plain English and what the results have meant for both artists and fans.

The further reality is that advances in technology have exacerbated the situation and in most cases put traditional practices in a corner. The ying-yang of art vs. commerce has always provided the fascinating interplay of music as a business. The challenges brought about, however, have always left the industry in a better place. Dirty Little Secrets.. includes both a historical and more current perspective on how the industry has fought, but eventually accepted and monetized, such advances as the ability to broadcast music through radio, record it on tape, and nowadays share or sell it through the Internet. Though we’re still trying to figure out the latter, history tells us we’ll eventually get there. And the business models will change accordingly. But perhaps some of the bad habits will remain. Will the practice of paying in some way for airplay or promotion, for instance, ever really go away?

Bordowitz has an extensive and varied background that enables him to speak to the details of the processes involved in several parts of the industry. The radio business, for example, is well explained, warts and all. For insiders who have worked in any part of the music business, though, there may be little that’s newly revealed. Students of the business, consumers, and fans, however, have a good primer here. Background information (the history of record retail, for example), legal issues, and simple explanations of the sometimes quirky economics of the business are outlined in everyday terms. Simple and sometimes humorous analogies (what if General Motors addressed declining sales the same way the music industry has?) further clarify.

A challenge to anyone writing about the industry is that it’s virtually impossible to be current with the material. These days the ink could hardly be dry at the publishing house before a Steve Jobs product presentation or a bill in Congress sends at least a tremor of change through the biz. Bordowitz does extrapolate and project forward, which is probably the best one can do given the rapidity of change. Amidst the conclusion, he doesn’t lose sight of the good and hopeful things that are happening in the new environment: artists succeeding more on their own terms, for instance.

There are probably dirty little secrets in every industry. When profits and pleasing shareholders become the endgame, there is certainly going to be a new set of rules. That’s natural, though. Gained efficiencies, reduced costs, and capitalized opportunities keep stakeholders happy, but challenge and frustrate the players. The music business did indeed grow in an environment akin to the Wild West. And it prospered in the same atmosphere. So there are perhaps some habits that are hard to break as the industry begins to reflect the rest of Wall Street, fortunately or unfortunately. But the goal remains the same: deliver the music to the people who will enjoy it, especially when they will pay to do so, thereby supporting the creator’s ability to make a living and deliver more.

The subtitle of the book, “…Why So Much of the Music You Hear Sucks” is a murky subject that could perhaps be subject to never-ending debate. Sure, there’s a lot of dysfunction in the system, but the quality of the music is a relative, subjective matter, and there are plenty of periods in the history of pop music when it’s been questioned. Many argue that while the major gatekeepers have stood staring at the headlights, smaller operations and independent artists who grasped technology and/or new trends, rather than fight or ignore them, have delivered great music to listeners who may not have heard it otherwise. Bordowitz explains very well the bad habits and lost focus that developed within the music business models through the years. One can only wonder what “great” artists or songs never became so due to those shenanigans or how many still won’t during these days of mergers and consolidations. But is it possible that truly great music, no matter what stands in the way, will find its audience somehow, some way, despite the dirty little secrets of the record business?

-REVIEWED BY STORM GLOOR

Martin Atkins. Tour:Smart, And Break The Band. Chicago: Smart Books, 2007.

Touring can test a band and its management in more ways than one. All cylinders in a band's engine must be firing, including the publicity machine, street teams, transportation, lodging, equipment, house personnel, merchandising crew--the touring machine has many parts and a failure of any of them can spell disaster. Being on the road for weeks or months can also stress professional and personal relationships. So why run the risk? Are the rewards worth it?

Answers to these questions can be found in Martin Atkins' new book, "Tour:Smart, And Break the Band." Atkins brings a wealth of experience, as his resume includes decades of work with such famous acts as Public Image, Ltd., Nine Inch Nails, and Skinny Puppy. This sizable volume (over 550 pages) contains a compelling mixture of theory and practice, along with enough "real world" stories to make an educational and exciting read. Atkins augments his own background and insight with dozens of contributing authors representing a variety of related professions, such as marketers, journalists, and managers. Included are the usual discussions on the strengths and shortcomings of the digital age--but always presented with a reminder that despite all of the available gee-whiz technology, real fans and long-term success are best cultivated the way they always have been, that is to say, live, and in person. The hassle of touring and taking the time to form "real" relationships with audiences and other professionals can pay off in the form of increased exposure, better merchandise sales numbers, and more industry mindshare.

Atkins provides a no-nonsense (there's a chapter dedicated to "Sex on the Road"), edgy (another on drugs) approach that acknowledges the gritty side of the business while being very clear that professionalism, integrity, success should always be held paramount. Indiscretions or mishaps of one kind or another may be inevitable, but ultimately the welfare of the touring group and its fans should never be placed in jeopardy because of an incapacitated/unavailable musician or surprise border inspection. Touring is a business and a valuable opportunity for an act: when you're doing it, you're really performing 24 hours a day. This is an excellent message for everyone, but should be particularly valid in the classroom, as we are helping young professionals form their mindset for entering the industry.

Despite the book's length, the text is broken up with a generous variety of photographs, interviews, diagrams, tables, and sidebars that keep it interesting. Additionally, the writing style is informal and very entertaining—there is a lot of useful information packed in here. The book is broken into sixty chapters of varying length, which means that several chapters are only going to be a few pages long (the chapters on "Karma" and "Murphy's Law" for example, are essentially one page apiece!) The coverage is as broad as the touring business itself, and provides quite a bit of practical insight. Some artists, for example, may not understand why it's better to tour in the Eastern half of the U.S. (closer cities, more shows, less gas, more money), nor may they understand the wisdom of visiting the same area twice on a single tour. Other groups may be interested in learning how inserting even a few days off into a tour schedule can push the tour's bottom line into the red. We also see how Microsoft Excel can be used to manage everything from guest lists to travel budgets. Other topics include contracts (and riders), street teams, professionalism, promotion, family life for a touring band, international travel, merchandising, the real costs of tour busses, gas, hotels, and of again, lots of anecdotes from the road. The book does provide an index as well as short biographical information on its list of contributors. There's something for everybody here, whether you're a fan of the musicians discussed in the book (and there are many), an industry professional, or an educator.

Some may feel the book's size and scope might be more than what they are looking for, and they could be right--this book doesn't pretend to tell you everything about everything. Where it excels, though, is in presenting a soup-to-nuts sweep of the business of touring, and in that regard it is a very impressive and useful book. I would highly recommend that you evaluate this volume and consider using it in your courses. Martin Atkins has put together a unique and interesting text and does a very good job of sharing his years of experience with us. At the time of this writing, its street price (less than $20) makes it a "best buy," a unique volume that really accomplishes what it sets out to do.

-REVIEWED BY THAD MEYER

The Brian Setzer Orchestra
Wolfgang’s Big Night Out
Surfdog Records
Produced by Dave Darling and Brian Setzer

Once upon a time, a teenaged Brian Setzer was a Bloodless Pharaoh. A CBGB’s band (that should say it all, but it doesn’t), they lurked in the musical regions of the Talking Heads, appealing to the new-wave crowd that appreciated the old school values of musical competency, melody, and moodiness, all anathema to the punk ethos that spawned them. A band that should have gotten better than they did, they were nonetheless a band of their time.

Since those heady days, Setzer seems to have advanced by going backwards, taking his music back in time. He first became a hit with rockabilly revivalists The Stray Cats. Working familiar turf with an amphetamine charge, Setzer, Lee Rocker and Slim Jim Phantom became hits and darlings of fashionistas, fiftiesophiles, and fun-seekers of all musical stripes, an A&R, promotion, and publicity department wet dream. What was not to like? They charged the music with the kind of raw sexual energy of the young Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis and the precision picking of Carl Perkins.

After that flourish of success, Setzer could basically do as he pleased. And what seemed to please him was taking a step further back in time. He put together the Brian Setzer Orchestra, a big-band-come-lately at the height of the nuevo-swing movement that offered up such pretenders as The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies along with real deals like the Royal Crown Review. Setzer’s band turned out to be as real a deal with material from the 30s and 40s as they were with rockabilly, playing tunes like “Pennsylvania 6500” , “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square” , and even managing to land a minor hit and crack the Billboard Hot 100 with a rendition of Louis Prima’s “Jump, Jive, and Wail.” Like so many of the classic big bands, the BSO also assayed show tunes, not so much because they were one of the popular musics of the time, but as a right of big band passage, taking on “Get Me to the Church On Time,” “Luck Be A Lady,” and “Mack The Knife.”

This brings us to Wolfgang’s Big Night Out. Setzer and his merry gang offer up an entire CD of another one of the original big bands’ favorite tricks, taking familiar classical themes and setting them in the band’s particular milieu. Simply in terms of hits, Benny Goodman did it with “Rhapsody In Blue,” (distilling and encapsulating Gershwin’s sprawling masterpiece into a three minute single); Glenn Miller took the “Anvil Chorus” from Verdi’s Il Trovatore to #3 in 1941, as Harry James took Rimsky Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumblebee” to #20 in 1940, the same year Woody Herman took Khachaturian’s “Sabre Dance” to #3. Many others played this classical card as well.

Setzer and his big band dig into the latter two, turning “Flight of the Bumblebee” into “Honey Man,” and doing a version of the “Sabre Dance” that Herman, one of the few big band leaders to embrace rock as music (c.f.; his version of Frank Zappa’s “America Drinks and Goes Home” ) would have enjoyed, thought it has more to do with the version by one of Setzer’s rockabilly buddies, Dave Edmunds than it does with a big band.

But the leader’s instrument is always front and center in a big band, which is one of the things that makes the Setzer band so dynamic – not many big bands were actually led by guitarists. Indeed, “For Lisa” (a take on Beethoven’s “Fur Elise”), which starts off as an almost classical arrangement before exploring Lang/Venuti territory. He reverts to his more mainstream rock chops on “Take a Break Guys” (a version on “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” – perhaps an addendum to his holiday oeuvre), veering away from the more careful jazz arpeggios of much of the album for a more distorted, contemporary sound.

The main thing, though, is while the material is classical, Setzer rarely fails to swing. Otherwise, it wouldn’t mean a thing.

References:
www.allmusic.com – The All Music Guide
Whitburn, Joel, 1991; Pop Memories, 1890 – 1954, Record Research, NY

-REVIEWED BY HANK B. BORDOWITZ