What is fair?

Having been invited to contribute on two platforms that have made it their mission to support musicians in the fair distribution of their music (NHAM and the.socialmusic.network), I recently found myself thinking a lot more about what is “fair” than I usually do.

Since you’re reading this, chances are that you’re a musician yourself, and/or are a person who has come here through “alternate” channels like the fediverse.

As such a person, I think you’ll agree that ‘mainstream’ social media (Youtube, TikTok, Facebook and that fascist platform once called Twitter) is not fair, nor – heaven forbid! – are streaming services like Spotify (which, by the way, is in the process of churning out petabytes of AI-generated music so they don’t have to pay artists).

Big social media is poison for music and for musicians.

Even if you create the most wonderful, most unique and most expertly made music existing on this planet, you can be sure that it won’t get noticed on mainstream social media – that is, until you’re prepared to manipulate the algorithms those platforms are based on, manipulate the people, sell your soul and/or have a six-figure advertising budget.

Thankfully, there are now various efforts to change this and allow musicians to release and distribute their music in a fair way – on open and free networks, without interference from corporate shills and techbros who don’t give a cold shit about arts and culture.

But this still begs the question, what is fair?

Algorithms In Your Head

The Fediverse and its inhabitants are proud of the fact that (unlike Google, Zuckermusk & Co.) it does not employ manipulative algorithms to shove lots of ads and little of content down its users’ throats.

This is all very nice but I think people are forgetting about a different kind of algorithms: The ones that don’t run on servers but in our own brains.

Before we continue, I need to tell you a little about myself: I consider myself a ‘part-time introvert’ of sorts. There are times (like right now) when it’s possible for me to write stuff about myself, reveal personal things and fight for attention, whether it’s attention for my musings or attention for my music.

But most of the time I find it incredibly difficult and bordering on repulsive to do these things, and I’d rather be left alone and let the music speak for itself.

I have to admit, this last part, doesn’t work so good.

Now let me gently raise a thought that might be a bit provocative: The Fediverse values openness, diversity, and inclusion — which is a beautiful and important foundation. At the same time, those values can sometimes create space for subtle dynamics or expectations that people may not even be aware of, including ourselves.

I’m quite sure more people would check out my music if I played up certain identity angles; stuff like dealing with mental health issues, or simply just being someone who pushes back against the system. I’m different in quite a number of ways after all, and I could as well capitalize on my being different.

Only that I can’t. Because that’s not me and because I’ve decided for myself that these things are none of the world’s business. If you listen to my music, you’ll find out who I am. There is no reason to constantly preach it or underline it with flashy pictures. The maximum I’m willing to do is to sometimes underline the fact that all proceeds from my music go to animal welfare because I find it important to let people know that I’m not selling my music for financial gain.

Other than that, I really don’t want to advertise, because it feels terrible.

But without telling people who I am and/or what I stand for and/or showing them how I look, what happens is this: I don’t get invited to festivals, my music isn’t played on fedi gatherings, there’s no big track-by-track listen of any of my albums going on anywhere, there are no reviews on my bandcamp page, there’s no radio stations willing to do interviews with me or featuring my work (apart from Radio Irrtum, for which he has my lasting gratitude), BBC6 has no idea who I am – and believe me, I am musician enough and I have been doing this long enough that I can confidently tell you: None of this has anything to do with the quality of the music.

Before you now rush to your keyboards and scream at me that I’m just jealous that others can market themselves better than me, let me stop you and acknowledge that if this only concerned myself, I wouldn’t have written anything about it.

Granted, I’m having one of my better days today. I write this and I can do this and I cherish writing it and fighting and being a bit provocative and all. I know it will pass and then I’ll be silent again but for the moment it feels ok.

But there are people much more introvert than me. There are people who would never write an article like this. Or try to make themselves heard in any way, apart from uploading their stuff somewhere and wondering why no one is interested.

And they are lovely, lovely musicians!

I know this, because I have talked to these people. I have listened to and bought their music.

Just one example: Llankru from Dresden. They make wonderful, wonderful indie rock / lofi music, and I tried to do my share to make them known in the fediverse when they released their last album, but unfortunately no one was interested.

They can only dream of my number of followers and/or supporters on bandcamp.

So suddenly here I am, chief guerilla marketer extraordinaire selling dozens of albums while these wonderful artists get next no feedback at all.

Is that fair?

I think it’s not.

So, what to do?

A better way

There once was a music platform on the internet to which I owe quite a lot. Most likely I wouldn’t be around making and releasing music if it wasn’t for them.

They had a very unique way of making sure that people got to know new music.

As a musician, you could upload your songs and request reviews from other musicians or music listeners.

But there was a catch: You could only do that if you had listened to a number of songs yourself beforehand and written reviews for them. Of course, you could decide not to write a review, in which case you had to listen to one more song.

Of course you could also choose the genres you would like to deal with.

You didn’t know who or what you were listening to. The name of the artist was only revealed after the review had been written.

When reviewing songs, you could rate certain aspects of the track (like production, lead vocals, etc.)

And: You couldn’t skip the song until it was at least half played.

This all made for a truly remarkable and unique experience: People were gently forced to explore new music.

Your tracks didn’t get listened to because you could scream the loudest, or you were the most different or because you produced provocative videos with big letters asking “IS IZZYBIX THE ONLY ARITST WHO DOES XXZZYYY?”

They simply got listened to on the merits of the music alone.

And that, dear readers, is exactly how it should be!

(as an aside: The concept was so good that non-musicians started to frequent the site too, because for a while, you could find lots of really good and exciting new music there. My eldest, most loyal fan found me on garageband.com in 2001. He is a listener of my music until this very day)

The platform that changed it all

To many “digital natives” this must seem like Utopia.

But it really existed.

The platform was called garageband.com (it had no relation to Apple’s software of the same name, that came much later), and it was a big success amongst musicians and music lovers.

So big in fact that it got into financial troubles and eventually burned to the ground.

But I owe garageband a part of my musicial identity.

Until I released my tracks on garageband.com, I didn’t think I was any good.

I had just recently moved and was new to a strange and hostile city, my old band was history and I tried to start something on my own.

My flatmates ignored my music, my “friends” ignored my music, everyone ignored my music. The only one who supported me was Laura, my singer, but we were good friends anyway so I (unfortunately) didn’t put much stock in her reassurances.

But then the magic happened: I uploaded some of our tracks on garageband and people actually listened, and they liked what they heard. They liked it so much that they contacted me, that there were collaborations, and a lot of them. I collected numerous awards for “best production“, “best pop song“, “track of the month” and so on… and I finally felt motivated enough to see it through. To record an album and go on with a project that would be my life for the next 8 years.

It was exciting, fulfilling time in my life that I wouldn’t miss for anything in the world. I stood on the stage. I had people dancing and singing along to my songs. I never thought it possible.

But for a short period of my life, it was.

A proposal

I’m not saying let’s rebuild garageband.com.

Garageband.com was a commercial entity and as such it was destined to fail once it got too big.

But the key ideas were sound and true. Taking the possibility away to consciously or unconsciously “market” your stuff and manipulate the listeners is one of the most important aspects of it. That’s what makes it truly fair.

With today’s technologies it should be easy for a few dedicated people to build something that is truly fair.

It could even be incorporated in one of the ongoing efforts to build a fair music distribution (or maybe even be federated itself?)

I’m too old, I have to many plates spinning in the air, but I really wish I could do it, because I believe with all my heart, it would make a difference.