First, I think Seth is correct.  Obviously, or I wouldn’t be posting.  Right off, I’m thinking about whether I’m one of the “mass” group (those that ignore ads) or in the early adopter group (call me a laggard and we might have beef).

With few exceptions, I’m in the “mass” group.  Those exceptions are few because there’s only a few things I’m truly interested in or find extremely important. Sound familiar? I early adopted Google Chrome, for example, because I spend so much time on the web and was not happy with Firefox, let alone Explorer.  But for the most part, I’m in the mass group even in areas of interest such as music.  There’s just too much available NOT to apply a significant filter and just plain ignore most of what comes across my field of perception.

I was at Bonaroo several years ago.  It was fun, but I actually remember very little.  Substance-intake aside, I do remember a band that I didn’t stay to watch (I went to the Medeski, Martin, & Wood tent instead): The Flaming Lips.  Why did I remember?  Because everyone was talking about them and how crazy they were and that they jumped around in bunny suits.  This is just an anecdote that doesn’t prove Seth’s point.  My point is, The Flaming Lips achieved the first levels of marketing success–recognition and recall–just by being remarkably different and garnering the interest of a select group of early adopters.  (For those that haven’t heard of them, The Flaming Lips are not new; they’ve been  successful over the long term and are known for exceptionally bizarre live shows.)

I came across an interesting example in another area of entertainment with the guerrilla-advertising campaign for Dante’s Inferno, a video game based on the first part of a medieval epic novel in which a man descends through hell.  Their advertising campaign was most successful when it targeted the early-adopting and truly interested few: Video Game Bloggers! (there’s some fun stuff to read in this breakdown of the campaign)

Okay, so if this has piqued your interest to consider how this might help you, here’s my thoughts on the how:

The Agent

How are we and what we offer clients remarkable?  Across the way at SportsAgentBlog, we find a piece on the potentially damaging result of agents’ intuitive knowledge that remarkable is important to marketing.  However, the difference for those that promise big results and what Seth was talking about is to focus on whether the PRODUCT is remarkable (i.e. the agent and what he’s doing).  The RESULTS, which are the subject of so many false promises, are to be judged by the consumer/entertainer/client.

The Client

How are our clients and what they offer remarkable?  I think this is an area where agents can start to contribute much more value to clients.  The old saw is that artists don’t want to sell out and adhere their art to the “business realities” espoused by agents, producers, et al.  The revelation based on fringe sales is that it’s not about selling out or buying in, but pushing the art to the extreme and striving for perfection.   And if that artistic extreme incorporates neo-strange oddness ala The Flaming Lips bunny suits, that’s cool because they are remarkably different.

The Target

Lastly, we need to consider our clients’ clients; i.e. the consumer.  Who are the select few early adopters that care so much that they’ll spread the word and make your clients’ product successful?  For music, I am patting myself on the back some because I’ve written about this in earlier pieces: DJs that actually put shows together (unlike many U.S. terrestrial-radio DJs) are a perfect example.  For actors and many others, we realize there are folks between the artist and the end-consumer.  A film actress needs to self herself to a director before an audience of film-buffs can give the thumbs up and spread the word.  However, applying Seth Godin’s thought, we can see some other opportunities, such as focusing on getting exposure with film societies and (again) bloggers devoted to serious acting.

That said, there’s an implied point in Seth’s talk that will be very important to your client.  While “safe” is risky (because it’s near-guaranteed failure/mediocrity), “risky” is still risky–i.e. your client’s remarkable will not necessarily match-up with enough folks (or the right kind of folks) to proliferate via word-of-mouth or reach enough folks to make money.  In other words, the counsel we agents might find ourselves providing would-be entertainers is:

Commit all the way and make your art remarkable.  If that doesn’t grab people , then we’ll have the opportunity to reinvent ourselves and give it another go.

I’ve been watching as many videos over at TED recently as my spare time allows.  TED, for the uninitiated, is a gathering (in person) and collection of mostly videos (on the web) by some exceptional people doing and thinking some exceptional things.

Take a look… I’ll wait.  Okay, here are the Cliffs Notes:

• The standard mass marketing approach is wrong because there are too many choices and people don’t have time.  The “mass” (the middle of the bell curve between early adopters and laggards) are really good at ignoring and often consider advertisement an annoyance.
• Successful marketing targets the products to a select few who really care about it then spread the word.   Example?  At the time, Steve Jobs was giving his talks to 50,000 nerds and the iPod was about 1-year old.  In the video there is also a staggering Pearl Jam example.
• “Safe” is risky.  Average products for average people is now risky.
• “Being very good is one of the worst things you can possibly do.”  It is boring.

So here’s the part where we need to think how to apply this as agents.  I’ll post my thoughts in Part II.  In the meantime, what’d you think?

At North Caroline and East Eager in Baltimore stands a non-denominational, “enthusiastic, charismatic” Pentecostal church.  Sunday evening, January 10^th, this center of soul was host to the Mad Genius Drums of–err, Bishop QP (Quincy Phillips) and his merry band of faithful minstrel magicians.  The gathering included:

• The Young Lions Connexion—Chris Funn (Bass), Allyn Johnson (Keys), and QP (Drums, Keys, Vocals);
• Samir Moulay (Guitar);
• Corey Baker (Bass);
• Quamon Fowler (Tenor Sax);
• Linea Boyd and Sabrina Wright (Vocals);
• Bryan Davis (Keys, Vocals);
• Cornell Shaw (?);
• Von Vargas (Emcee) with DJ SOP;
• Kathy Richardson (Spoken Word);
• Tim Green (Alto Sax);
• Lee Pearson II (Spoken Word);
• Tabitha Pearson (Vocals);
• Elevation—Adam Johnson (Bass), Mike Reed (Drums), and Kenny Shelton (Keys); and
• Micah Smith (Vocals).

I attended as a friend of the Bishop, a curious observer, and a lover of music.  However, in the standard model of networking this event was an excellent example of a means for an (prospective) agent to expand his knowledge of a local scene and parlay one relationship into many.

East Baltimore Deliverance Church’s neighborhood has a history of struggle—drugs, poverty, teen pregnancy, and crime are all on the rise according to locals.  Buildings and ex-apartments are ramshackle, the green is mostly gray-brown, and the church stands as a lamp’s light of hope a half block up from a mostly vacant strip mall.

The building creaks, thumps, and hums with the spirit of its people.  Downstairs there’s talk by teens of getting ‘the group’ back together if their soprano comes back from NYC.  She’s shy to sing in the presence of the others.  An impromptu “Lean on Me” fires up and, amidst the laughter, the ice breaks. When it does, the shy girl sings and it’s silken from the start. They know to break upstairs with at least 30 minutes to spare to ensure premium seating.

I’d arrived in the morning by train, bleary-eyed and thanking the cold bite in the air for the wake-up call.  It wasn’t long at Penn Station before QP arrived. He lives clean—no smoke or drink—but had been up late playing and so was a bit bleary-eyed too.

Through the years I’ve found myself guest in many homes. It’s something I’ve always been comfortable with and it’s always warming to be received kindly.

QP is not one for introductions and doesn’t have to. Grandma (the Apostle) and I connected immediately as I’m sure she’s accustomed to—the church’s matriarch and founder, the Apostle is clearly the Bishop’s charismatic lineage.  She and the many others I met over the course of the day were extraordinarily welcoming.

The evening featured many performers.  A few performances really hit home with me.

Elevation is a gospel collective cobbled together from years of world traveling with such gospel luminaries.  Their first song captured their presentation and caught me by surprise, starting with an extended mood-groove (not the kind I’m personally fond of but it was well-executed) and shifted into a rock-gospel drive that, though very different in sound had a similar effect as listening to Jimmie Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughn’s versions of Voodoo Child.

Kathy Richardson read a single (and thankfully) extended poem.  Now I’ve long-wanted and often tried to write a poem about music, about its effect both universal and personal, about its character and power.  There’s no longer any need.  Kathy, if you are reading, I would very much like to acquire a copy—preferably, of you reading it.

Quincy Phillips took the occasion to introduce some spiritually-influenced solo work. It was fantastic and not what one expects from ‘spiritually-influenced’ music.  With him on keys and vocals and Linea Boyd, Sabrina Wright, and Brian Davis singing backup, the audience was treated to something akin to Andre 3K’s piano-driven songs.  “Prototype” comes to mind.

The Young Lions Connexion means the Young Lions stand-ins on horns made the excellent even better.  Phillipine 4:13 and Shades of Joe (both compositions by members of the Connexion) captured the spiritual context of the night without a single word sung or spoken.

Lee Pearson is a big name in drums, having played with Roy Ayers, Roy Hargrove, and Lauren Hill, for example.  He delivered a surprising and powerful sermon directed at his fellow musicians but speaking to the universal pitfalls of pride and losing one’s sight of the Good.

Micah Smith … Wow, what an amazing voice he has and performer he is.  His songs were in a format most would easily recognize as gospel/soul, which provides an excellent showcase for his talents.  I’ll be looking him up for some time to come.

The Bishop said it opening the show and I agree: Baltimore has some of this Nation’s and by extension the world’s finest musicians.  I look forward to returning.

Mos Def appeared on BenjiB’s BBC radio show (available until January 24) .  The three part show was about one hour Mos music from BenjiB, one hour of music and interview, and one hour of Mos behind the deck.

I thought Mos’ thoughts on the industry, singles, and albums were interesting and struck me as accurate.  I’ll paraphrase:

• Mos Def puts a lot of effort into making complete albums.  He cited Stevie Wonder’s (5) masterpieces and a desire to pay due respect to the form.
• The music industry, nonetheless, was born of singles.  Motown, for example, was built one track at a time.
• The album was born out of recognition that the costs of promoting singles could be spread across greater revenue by selling collections of songs.
• Thanks to technology, consumers are focused on singles again, so albums are losing their cash-cow status.

This line of thought matches up with a piece I posted here some months ago.  The idea is that as greater efficiency is introduced into the marketplace—in this case, marketing efficiency—more targeted products proliferate.

I expect albums still have their place; particularly, if they are presented as an integrated (or, cohesive) whole.  Mere collections (greatest hits albums would be an extreme example) are less likely to succeed because consumers don’t want to pay for tracks they don’t want and don’t need to buy a complete album to get the 2-6 songs they do want.

Seems so simple it hardly seems worth saying… maybe it’s harder to accept when you’ve got a catalog of albums 1000’s deep to sell.

If a story can’t be told full, it’s best to tell a tale well short.  God speaks succinct in verse, rhyme, and rhythm; so I shall try.

Quincy Phillips is the leader and drums behind the Young Lions (clap, clap).  He entered Café Nema from the back wearing a black suit and dark tie knotted thick and worn short.  He was uncharacteristically late and appeared haggard.  My entrance earlier, a mere prequel, was a relative thunder—to red-eyed musicians,  disbelieving regulars, felicitations from former and current staff alike, and an owner’s embrace.

QP paused to a regular’s beckoning, but beyond fashion’s timeliness, his rapid apology toward the stage was compelled. Chris Funn and Ted Baker rolled along as the setup ensued.  I immediately recognized something askew, but hadn’t settled on what it was.

Bass, tom, hat, and snare were present but not much else save two cylinders of wood, leather, and rivets.  But wait—

Have you seen QP?  Thelonius-slim with the goat to match… Spike-meets-Blakey-meets-Mingus… A grin that pauses just long enough for the next to say, “gotcha, and you loved it.”

Sax and bass set the mood and cued conversation.  Then, a tapping emerged—like that from a well-intentioned raven.  The first song drew to a close.  The dimly lit, below-street bar dimmed further and glowed a deeper shade of orange.  The stage was set.

Duke peppered forth.  And then, that different feeling came to me again.  Bawp-bawp…2, 5… Bop-bawp… a smattering.  It was like discovering a sound as a child: new, natural, something supposed to be found.

Next song; see: drum solo.  Four beats of interlude followed by QP’s old tricks on a truncated setup—rapid fire and peerless drum magician-ship.  On the fifth round the bing-bong-bap got rolling and the whole became seamless, transcendent.  Funn and Baker—apparently unconscious—followed suit and three minutes of magic ensued.

Ecstatic, my jaw-dropped, the drum solo concluded, and the last stanza carried the newfound focus to a conclusion no one wanted: Silence.  Five seconds hung in infinity.  There was no applause, just a collective stun.  One clasp echoed and heavy hands gathered in multitude, moments after.  The third-filled tiny jazz club erupted.  I heard myself mutter loudly (as one does in a state of shock), “yes… again… 15 minutes more of that,” before realizing the same sentiment had rung out from the front table and the table right in front of me just a moment before.

I channeled my trusty-companion to all things jazz and moniker-maker extraordinaire all the way from Romania and thought, “the Mad Genius Drums of U Street.”  I fumbled to my phone to tell him, but was foiled by a time zone differential realization.  I turned to my right and told the owner, “His new name is the Mad Genius Drums of U Street.”

QP knew what was up and decided to push further.  The next song opened and Quincy quickly moved back to the bongos for punctuation, this time harkening what I believe was Dizzy’s Afro sound.  The Mad Genius kept the lid down and the energy simmering for about three minutes, letting loose again on the drum solo.

Each new batch of solo bars brought wider diversions and for each round the company—now including a guitar—followed.  I have no idea how it lasted so long and it’s a testament to the talent of all because the Mad Genius was conducting two trains, one funk and one jazz, toward one another.  HORRIFIC CRASH!

The music stopped, but the beat didn’t; it just kept going, quieted, humbled… until it didn’t.  QP stopped to search for survivors.  By the open of the next set, all had gathered again, stronger, steely-eyed knowing a collision could recur, and probably not happy QP had gone so far.

I can’t rationalize the disaster and it felt mostly wrong, but something different had happened and I remain suspicious whether Mad Genius Drums of U Street had duped us all, taught us all, or just gone beyond our feeble music minds.

The next set dazzled in classic Young Lions fashion, but the tension from the events prior remained.  To observe these cats gather, especially in Nema’s intimate setting, is to live vicariously through them.  YL shows don’t give you top-to-bottom album-polish or the controlled perfection of a group of 50-year veterans.  Organic and explosive, you don’t know what to expect.  Attempt to anticipate and you might find yourself staring down the bright lights of a locomotive.

Café Nema, D.C.

Jazz

The Mad Genius Drums of U Street

I think that’s an impressive quote considering Nietzsche didn’t have the benefit of funk, jazz, soul, hip hop, blues, rag, reggae, or gospel to pen his declaration.  He also didn’t have the Internet.

So what is this thing that the Internet has done to music?  Not much.

I hope you feel very disagreeable right now, because I’m ready to concede: what style you listen to, and how often, and what you pay for music may have changed dramatically… but the Internet has done nothing to the music except, maybe, help it evolve faster.

But that’s just my take.  The lawyers (okay, I happened to one: boo me) have wrangled over the effect of a new path of distribution on copyrights.  Major music industry players have focused on how to address profit margin problems.  Consumers, from teenagers to grandmothers have consumed more… and dealt with the ramifications of the above wrangling and profit concerns.  Artists’ approaches have varied wildly—from free album releases to fighting against and supporting lawsuits against purported rights infringers to seizing on inventive ways to proliferate their creations.

Underlying all this activity is the consistent decline in the cost associated with making and distributing music.  Instruments, microphones, a computer and software, a little production expertise, and an internet connection are, technically, all that’s required to go from unknown to world-wide sensation.  (If you thought to yourself that I missed electricity, you are a lawyer or an engineer… Am I right?)

What remains is the selling component.  Is the question, “how do we get people to pay for what they want?”  Or, is it, “how do we get people what they want to pay for?”  The focus of each of these not-so-clever questions is drastically different.

The old-school approach’s marketing is merged with its acquisition, development, and advertising, and addresses the consumer as a known and relatively static quantity. It’s circular and does involve internalized feedback, so this is just a short-hand:

• Locate talent based on some set of projected sale-ability metrics;
• Develop that talent internally based on similar metrics;
• Push the product to institutionalized advertisers (radio stations, MTV); and
• Cut-losses or increase production for large, long-term investments based on sales.

This is what Joni Mitchell calls “the star-maker machinery behind the popular song”—the record industry and the commercial radio business it pays that help manufacture and promote big time artists.

There are ways to adapt this model, such as utilizing different sales approaches a la iTunes or putting videos on YouTube.   The bottom line, though, is the approach works very well when tangible product sales play a major role—buy a record/tape/CD at a store; ticket for a concert; t-shirts and posters online—because margins are relatively high.

To be fair, I’m mostly guessing at the high margins rationale.  Then again, it is the industry saying they are hurting for money.  And so, for a moment, I consider the money problem as they have voiced it—people aren’t paying enough (they’re stealing)!  And I think, okay, getting people to stop stealing is an understandable reply.  But I also recognize other approaches and wonder, when the stop-them-from-stealing approach has been engaged for several years and there is supposedly still a problem, where’s all the talk of the other side—i.e. how can we increase efficiency?

A new school marketing approach has the same components—a person makes a product, it’s distributed, and paid for—but embraces the communication possibilities brought on by the internet, et al to address the consumer dynamically. Such an approach would:

• Locate talent based on information from the dynamic marketplace—utilize emerging taste-makers (have you noticed how many DJs there are now that DJ doesn’t just mean spinning a disc at a radio station?) and listener data from single-sale and play-for-free online sources to locate talent;
• Develop talent on a consultancy-basis tailored to maximize existing success;
• Push the product through a dynamic network of personal connections (this component could include significant synergy with the talent location component); and
• Manage a portfolio of smaller, potentially short-term investments based on the overall success of the relationship between and for the artist and representative.

The marketing problem is no less complicated and maybe more complicated with this approach because of access to a proliferation of increasingly tight niches, but I believe in time such an approach will prove the last vestige for non-musicians to play a significant role in the world of music.

This post is a brief, informal, and anecdotal exploration into that question’s answer and how that answer is reached.

My Assumptions Are: brilliance should be embraced; “embrace” may mean guidance but not directives or manipulation; a positive and constructive approach is always possible; and a child can learn and will benefit from doing things for themselves.

Tarantino-ing Forward: Menna says, “Now I’m angry and sad AND happy!  Do you know what that means?  I’M VERY CONFUSED!” [Cue: laughing passers-by]

Rewind: I expect Menna to engage the road to acting fully.  The purpose is two-fold—to ensure she learns as much as possible and, as a test, to ensure she is willing as evident by her active engagement.  This played out some months ago when, on a ‘let’s go to the office and work on the acting project’ day, I asked that Menna read my previous Representing D.C. posts.

“But wait,” you say, “she’s only 5 and you expect her to read your blog?!”  Precisely!  And, as if to prove my point, she was recently promoted to sit-in as a 1^st-grader after only a month in kindergarten because she, “already knows how to read, write, and do math.”

She did not want to read the posts.  To which I replied, “Okay.”  And so life went on and a few months passed and I did not do the ‘agent-thing’ on her behalf.

Act II: Near the beginning of this month and unbeknownst to me, Menna inquired with Mom whether I would start working with her on the acting-thing.  Mom said she should ask.  Menna decided to do an audition… and then ask.

Menna and I were strolling along the road back to my apartment after a day of hanging-out in D.C.  We approached a bridge.  She asks, “Are we going to cross that bridge?”  With a waggish half-smile I reply, “I think yes, that’s the plan.”  She stated, “I don’t want to,” with a scornful look and I asked why.  To wit she replied, “Because bridges make me angry!”  Knowing full well a ruse was on its way I tried to contain my laughter, saying only, “okay.”

As we stepped foot on the bridge and for the remainder of our time on that bridge, Menna put on her audition… “I’m angry now!”  “Oh, I am just so angry!”  “You—why do you—I just am so angry with you!”  “You always do this and it is just—OHH, how you just don’t care and that’s just making me more ANGRY!”  Passers-by looked, were startled, and then smiled.

The Grand Finale: A group of about five college-aged kids were stepping off a bus and walking toward us from about 20-30 yards away.  The three girls in the group had noticed Menna’s behavior.  Stepping first foot off the bridge, Menna planted, did a ¼ turn and planted her second foot.  Staring straight at me, arms set at her sides, then raising one for emphasis, she proclaimed emphatically, “Now I’m angry and sad AND happy!  Do you know what that means?  I’M VERY CONFUSED!” [Cue: uproarious laughter from me and three college-aged women now only 10 feet away]

The Ask: After a short walk we reached halfway from the end of the bridge and the apartment.  Menna, strolling calmly and in a gentle voice inquired, “So, will you help me become an actress again?”

Concluding, Menna and I are now exactly where we need to be and ready to move forward.  In case you were wondering how I concluded that…

I have recently arrived at the idea that people are almost universally born brilliant and only taught their limitations by parents and schools, etc.  I am not referring to the rules we learn like “don’t swim for an hour after you eat.”  I think actually that these limitations are taught to children insidiously and unconsciously—as in, when adults act surprised and humored by a child who says or does something we think is a happy chance occurrence of adult understanding rather than a fertile mind at work.  Or, when we don’t expect children to take things on and ask for help; when we take their expressed interest and embrace it by doing things for them and then are surprised and disappointed when they become less interested.  I believe that last approach is setting-up a child for failure and is often followed by a parent or mentor’s expression of disappointment with the child or outright chastisement.

Rather, I embrace Menna’s brilliance by expecting Menna to embrace her own journey.  I expect her to do things for herself and I will always be there to help her when she asks or when she needs counsel but is unsure to ask.  I do this despite the maybe-popular view that it is expecting too much.  Thankfully, Menna has provided evidence supporting this approach through her actions.

Disclaimer: I recognize my views may be skewed by the fact that Menna is brilliant and mean no offense to anyone who disagrees with me.

The nasty thing about it is, nobody ever remembers my genius prognostications (maybe because they’re more mundane than genius, who knows?).  So here’s a few ideas based on my recent reading of The Business of Sports Agents by Shropshire and Davis:

• Some agencies will begin including a percentage ownership clause in client-contracts. This can serve both parties.   Providing near- and long-term incentive for clients to succeed within the parameters of the agent-client relationship will help foster mutual commitment and client behavior that not only is in the client’s best interest directly, but indirectly through promotion of the firm and other actions supporting fellow clientele.
• Non-profit organizations will be formed for the purpose of educating entertainers (including athletes), the public, etc. on matters important to the entertainment industry. Employment of entertainers within these organizations will provide a baseline income and training for otherwise unemployed  or partly-employed entertainers.   The training aspect is as important to a representative as the income aspect is to the entertainer because education about the “biz” is often viewed as a key component to an entertainer’s success (especially long-term success).
• Small and mid-size agencies will extend their breadth of services well beyond contract negotiation and job-hunting. This can be accomplished by various methods any of which must be aimed at reducing the costs associated with running mega-firms (i.e. one-stop-shops).   Sharing the burden of work with the entertainer via guidance and counsel and utilizing a network of small firms offering various services are among the possible approaches.
• A national organization by and for entertainment agents will establish a code of ethics and licensing bureaucracy.

Luckily, my taking credit has very little to do with ensuring that I am, indeed, first to make these claims.  And because I’ve not done the research to ensure otherwise, these ideas may already be proliferating unbeknownst to me.  What say you readers?  Who should be taking credit in my stead?

Well, it’s never been and never will be the music capitals that LA, NY, and Nashville have been, thought it has had brief moments via the rise of particular genres, like Seattle.  D.C., being a transient town, has never been able to sustain a music scene.  Everyone who comes out of D.C. has to go to the other cities.  And you have a void when someone is cultivated and nurtured here and has to leave.  That leaves a void and critics turn on them; then after a few years they [the critics] welcome them back as always having been from D.C.

There’s not anyone in D.C. that’s going to invest the type of money and time into a musical artist.  The Record Companies are in other cities.  And that’s true even with the internet and self-production because there isn’t a ‘back office’ here to help people take the next step.  ‘Being from D.C.’ is about it.

Then again, if D.C. had a record company or a radio station to take a band to the next step, that would be a different story.  When WHFS was up and running, it was instrumental in promoting bands to the next level and visibility led to bands getting noticed elsewhere.  They’d be heard and picked up by other radio stations on the East Coast and they’d grow.  When they [WHFS] left, so did the promoting ability of the local-music scene, except for playing live in the clubs.

And what about acting and other performing arts?

Acting, et cetera—it’s the same basic deal.

Martin Lawrence was my first TV contract.  He was here at the downstairs office with his packed Toyota ready to go to L.A.  His first job was as a Busboy at Rob’s in the second coming of What’s Happening [see: What’s Happening Now!! (http://www.skooldays.com/categories/primetime/pt1051.htm)]. He went to LA and I never heard from him again.  So, D.C. is about representing people on the way out [to L.A.] and coming back in.

I’ve gotten Fox and Disney TV shows to pilot, but they’ve never made it to production.  You get a lot of record deals; movies are ad hoc.  Lately, local companies with entertainment products are looking for talent for spokesman, infomercials, etc.  It’s out there, but isn’t really institutional work.

This may be changing.  Discovery is spinning off local production companies.  I don’t know what’s available thanks to XM/Sirius are.  I expect work is coming out of that, but it’s not something I’ve worked on.

What special considerations or tactics do you employ to be an effective and profitable representative in the so-called “small market”?

First: Educate the client.  They need to know what they’re getting into.

Hopefully, you can help them with when not to make decisions on their own behalf without consultation.  Very few understand the nature of the business, which is understandable given that they’re artists.  At a fundamental level, they need education on how they MIGHT be able to make a living—how to get paid and how much.

They need to be warned against all the “star-makers,” whether they necessarily will be [made stars] or will even get paid.  There is a value for what they do but sometimes it’s more important to know when to ask for something in return.  It’s not just “don’t play for free,” sometimes it’s “don’t ask for money to play an opening slot… to play the opening at Black Cat (http://www.blackcatdc.com/)” when the opportunity to play at all is really beneficial.  It’s better to take the gig than ask for $10 grand just because that’s what someone else got [and lose the gig].

Second: Establish the rapport of trust so when telling them “no,” they aren’t just blindly trusting you but know you have their best interests at heart.

Third: Repeat.  It’s a circular thing and an ongoing process.  And, they’ll forget.

Here’s my Stephen Colbert question: Some say rock stars want to be comedians and comedians want to be rock stars; Are entertainment lawyers and agents wannabes too or are they just money-hungry leaches?

It’s about 50/50.   I don’t know, it’s not all agents, but all record company execs want to be rock stars.  Otherwise, it’s pretty evenly split.  I mean, if you ever knew a ‘70s, ‘80s, even part of the ‘90s record executive (when they still existed), they were in limos, private planes, flying 1^st class, and their bands didn’t [do likewise] until they were rolling in the money.  These were the A&R folks and meanwhile their acts were 4 to 5 deep in a van.

The first time I ever rode in a limo I had to tell clients it was their money and being deducted from their royalties!  Gladly, they went back from Four Seasons to Motel 6; and switched to the van from the limo.

For the most part, the majority of those that become entertainers do not go that way because they want to be stars: they do it because that’s what they are.  So many are touring now—and I’m not being derogatory, but they’re not “relevant” and maybe you call them golden oldies—they are fine going to small places and playing small audiences that are harkening back to the days when the performer(s) had their hit.  They may not like the travel arrangements and treatment they get exactly, but they are doing what they do.

Anyone who got into the business to get rich is a fool.  They have to look at their chances and I expect their chances are better if they were looking at an internet startup company.  The comedians are the class clowns that [somewhere down the line] someone said they could do it for a living.  It was not about “how much money can I make,” it’s a thought that they have what they like to do and can get paid for it, which is better for them than waiting tables [even if the pay is worse].

[The change comes] when they see others making money off them; then they say they want their share, but not until then.  When they see everyone making money, the light bulb goes off… then they see it.

I don’t think Paul McCartney said to himself, “I want to be richest man in England—a music mogul!” in the ‘60’s.  But when the Beatles got ripped off in their first publishing deal, he saw that that’s where the money is and not only wouldn’t get ripped off, but started buying.  Now he owns Broadway shows and has a fortune from music rights, but STILL he performs and wants to get up in front of crowds and I think the majority of performers fall in this category: they perform because that’s who they are.

What didn’t I ask but should have?

Hmmm… the most often asked is “How do I get started?”

I thought about asking that…

Unfortunately, there’s no one answer.  You don’t know what button needs to be pushed, so you push every one.  You make yourself available and build up knowledge of industry.  It’s really the toughest question to answer.

Feel free to pass on this question, but I’ll ask for the readers: Are you hiring?

No; and I’m never in that position because my entertainment practice has never been 100% of my practice and I’ve never had excess practice and so no need for associates.  I’m in a big firm and my entertainment law practice is just something I do as a specialty.  So I don’t have anything for them—an associate, intern, a clerk—to do.

Especially if they want to be paid!

Yeah, well once you’ve gone through nurturing process, and the turnover is so high, the last thing they [the client] wants to do is spend a year to get to know you just to be turned over to an associate because you don’t have time.  That’s the kiss of death.

If one of your bands is U2 and the others get back seat; they will jump when you don’t have time for them.  The people you [a performer] want to hire are the people so successful they don’t need you or your act.  The person who does have the time probably doesn’t have the contacts you need.

That’s a catch-22.

Yes, so it’s a “tough question,” comment above.  You need to sneak in and get the blind trust of competence and mutual respect.  The last thing you want is one side to embarrass the other in the first chance at a record company meet.  Most of the time it’s about pairing up with someone at your own level and you’re all learning as you go.  It’s not a very good system.

Then, the first thing they [the record company] do is demand the manager be dumped!  They recommend someone huge and the client doesn’t know why the big-wig would bother with them—it’s natural to think “what’s their incentive?”  And meanwhile, you’ve got this manager who’s been humping equipment and driving your van for however long.

But it’s tough to turn down because it’s the big break!

Right; and this person at the record company giving this lecture is probably taking another job in 6 to 12 mos.  Orphans at record and management companies are the lore of the business.  They are the acts left behind.  They came in with someone as a champion for their act and are left needing instead to convince someone to believe in them.  It’s like a pro-athlete signing with a team because they like the coach and he’s fired the next year.  The athlete is going to wonder, “Why is it again that I signed with this team?”

It happens all the time.  At first, I didn’t believe it when someone told me it’s the same 600 people [in the business] that just change jobs every 6 months.  The networks all do that—from CBS to NBC to ABC.

Thank you kindly.

Miles & Stockbridge P.C.

Practice areas: Entertainment & Sports, Business Litigation, & Real Estate

Education: University of Baltimore, J.D.; University of Maryland, B.A.

Selected to: Washington, D.C. Super Lawyers (2007); Maryland Super Lawyers (2007)

Robert Keene has a diverse practice that includes the representation of musicians, artists, and record companies.  Mr. Keene has been a member of the adjunct faculty at the Columbus School of Law, Catholic University of America, since 1991, where he has taught Entertainment Law.

His litigation experience includes major trademark infringement, commercial contract, insurance coverage, will caveat/estate, securities arbitration, accounting malpractice, tort, and injunctive cases, to name a few.

In his entertainment practice, Mr. Keene has negotiated and litigated talent/personal service agreements for personal management, recording, music and literary publishing, agency, sponsorships, endorsements, merchandising, television, modeling, motion pictures, and business management.

He has also negotiated and drafted licensing agreements for recording, animation, software and soundtracks and artist/producer agreements on behalf of both artist and record production companies, and counseled clients and litigated copyright and trademark infringement actions.

Mr. Keene has negotiated acquisition/option/talent agreements with Walt Disney, Fox Television and motion picture production companies for the development and production of children’s animated television series and documentary and dramatic motion pictures.  He has provided management and publishing administration of a national recording artist through album releases, national tours, videos, television and motion picture appearances, and provided business affairs and corporate counsel to record/production companies and recording studios.

So if you want more of the official bio- stuff, head on over to Bobby Keene’s firm’s website, but here’s the skinny: I was one of the “bad” law school students but for some reason felt compelled to attend the vast majority of Mr. Keene’s Entertainment Law classes (you can ask my student-peers about how rare that was).

He brought to the table what you look for as a student: a style that’s entertaining but not lame-shtick, genuine experience that he’ll let you know started in the trenches, and he’s there for you without pretension because at the end of the day it’s your law school bill—that’s my opinion anyway.

I called his office on a Wednesday hoping to arrange a time for an interview and was put right through to him.  After saying I was a former student of his, he self-deprecatingly apologized for the “experience” and asked what he could do for me.  Then, after graciously agreeing to 20-30 minutes, we talked for nearly an hour.  So without further adieu, here’s what the man had to say:

As your student, I really appreciated your commitment to making law classes engaging, often through humor; so has Spinal Tap’s return to the scene meant you’ve revised your material?

Thinking about it… I haven’t actually done anything yet to revise it because it’s a very workable model as I use it.  I thought about it when they got back together for Earth Day or Live Aid—when they were in England and had something like 35 bass players for one song.  I thought about it again recently when they were on Conan’s Tonight Show a few nights back.  I had seen them unplugged before that [at the Beacon Theatre] and thought about it then too, but I haven’t revised it yet—it’s still something I might do.

Do you see a correlation between academic rigor/educational pedigree and success in the entertainment field?

Not really.  It depends on the individual.

I remember back when record companies were still “record companies” you’d have the paradox of going to Warner Bros. with the Ivy-league lawyers in suits and ties and going to Elektra with the people in hockey-jerseys in the same role.  And that was all same company! [Warner Music Group].

A pretty good argument for pedigree is when you are dealing with the New York ‘good-ole boy’ network.  But a strong case is also there for a street-smart lawyer dealing with a band on road; that’s when you have to deal with problems on-the-fly and the 2-year turnaround for a law suit means law suits are not an option.  So, it depends on the individual and the job.

I remember early on the Ivy League lawyers saying goodbye and I immediately ran into and had to deal with a raving lunatic Englishmen wearing a hockey jersey whose every sixth word was… uh, ‘sailor speak.’ [You end up dealing with both.]

My regular piece for Entertainment Agent Blog is centered on working with Menna, who is 5 years old and wants to do acting and possibly other performing arts; have you worked with minors in the past?

Yes.

—How have you handled the revocable contract issue?

[Under a standard arrangement, if a minor is party to an agreement then they may revoke/void that agreement.  To avoid the option to void/revoke—especially before the minor reaches the age of majority, a party contracting with a minor may seek to have an agreement certified by the court.  In non-legal-speak certification means having a parent/guardian sign-off on the deal.]

In most cases, I’ve explained it to them.  To the extent that when they realize the enormity of the process, they usually retreat back and don’t go through with it.  It’s usually just [better to] make some hand-shake deals until you need protection on it and then ‘go-for-it.’

I just did one for “America’s Got Talent” and it was a 13-year-old girl and her father didn’t know whether to sign.  I advised the father, “hey, she’s 13 and you’re thinking good things and you need to also think about the bad.  They won’t change the contract when numbers are vast [when she’s achieved success], but if she performs poorly and they decide to run a promo, she’s already lost all rights and control.  They won’t change because she’s 13 and more impressionable than an adult who’ll potentially fall on their face.” [Mr. Keene was paraphrasing.]

This was not a direct client.  She made first cut and was expected to give away every right in the book.  My advice was that I wouldn’t let my own daughter do this, [which included] taking the risk of being on the YouTube and NBC sites for years to come making a fool of herself.  This kind of advice can obviate the need to go further [i.e. continue counseling].

The laws out there are more to protect employer than employee.  When you are signing a minor you are just left open. [When representing the minor] you typically are telling the minor they’re better off not going through the process because their value will increase with time.

I have advised partners, but have never appeared before the labor-commissioner here in Maryland.  On the other side of things, I wouldn’t dare invest a lot of time and effort into a young person unless you’ve gone through the process of validating the contract.

There are alternatives though, like contracting in shorter stages—6 months at a time, for example.  If there is no long-term risk for the studio, then they don’t see a reason to go through the process. You know, if there isn’t a long-term personal service contract, there’s not much to void.

—Have you dealt with someone who’s a child’s agent and isn’t the parent?

No.

I recall you had some great stories from your experience—what’s the greatest blunder by a representative of an entertainer you’re aware of or had personal experience with?

I know I have some good ones that aren’t me but I’ll throw myself under the bus.  One thing that made me feel the most foolish was pooh-poohing a Guns ’n’ Roses audition.  I was taken to see a band at the Roxy [on Sunset Strip] a record company A & R person and they didn’t impress me as being very good.  They were like every—this was in ’85 or ‘86—every other band.  My friend was not happy; he was saying the record-company is going to give them $1 million and I was arguing they should spend the money on something different, something more original.  And yeah, they turned out to be Guns ‘n’ Roses, so…

I know as soon as we hang up I’m going to start thinking of more stories.

[To be continued…]