As kids, we all aspire to some sort of career. Some of us want to be firefighters, presidents, doctors, or rock stars. And some of us want to be record executives. Ok, well, maybe just one of us...
Like many kids, my passion actually started out around age nine with the whole “I wanna be a rockstar” fantasy; but somehow, by age 11, I had already become completely cynical and convinced that music was not my calling (read: I was too lazy to learn an instrument). After a little industry research, I latched onto the idea of working at a record label. Why not? I could be involved with music, but also have a stable life and not have to learn those pesky instruments that musicians seem to love so much.
Although writing and radio production are my main passions these days, the record label fantasy has followed me throughout the years and still remains a future goal of mine. All of this background is to explain why I was instantly attracted to Rock On: An Office Power Ballad, the newest book by writer and spoken word artist Dan Kennedy.
Rock On chronicles Kennedy’s year and a half spent working for Atlantic Records in marketing. It’s snarky, fun, clever, and accessible: you don’t have to know much about labels to appreciate the overall office humor, although your reading experience will be greatly enhanced if you know a thing or two about (rock) music.
Although Rock On is written specifically about Atlantic, I feel confident that the anecdotes could have been easily applied to any major label. We all hear about the incredible over-spending, the artists who are signed but never get to release a record, the executives who do nothing but yell at everyone… yet they never hit home until you hear the stories (or rather, read them) from a first hand experience. While many of the incidents make you want to scream (or maybe I’m just a tad too emotional about this?), Kennedy has a talent to spin these stories in such a colorful and fascinating way that I couldn’t put the book down.
But under the funny lines and ridiculous stories lies a more serious undertone: assuming the record business doesn’t go completely down the drain, it will never be the same again. The book ends on a thoughtful note that reflects this; “I sit cross-legged on the floor on a workday staring into my cereal bowl, thinking about how we all change. We all grow up. We all move on, one way or another, whether we want to or not.”
This is not exactly a groundbreaking sentiment, but it gives one pause between the laughs. For anyone like me – a young person looking to go into the industry – it is no longer a world of over stuffed expense accounts and backstage passes (if it ever really was that for anyone but the elite few). We are looking to go into (and hopefully revive) an industry full of salary cuts and starving artists, of grandeur hiding desperation, and the 24/7 work week.
I’ve made jokes with friends about the “big bucks” I’ll be making in the industry, but the truth is I know that big bucks are not the future of music. I know that and I embrace that, because I don’t want to be a part of this for money. Any good music writer knows that it’s not about a paycheck, or even getting published; it’s about the thrill of getting to write about, or work with, what you love.
But somehow, a long time ago, a group of people who were just in it for the business took over the music industry, and left us with this mess on our hands. The music industry will never die out as long as music exists, but there are a few changes that will need to be made.
I’ve never been one of those anti-major-label people. In fact, I fully expect to intern or work for a major label at some point in my life, and that’s great by me. I think they get an unfair and overly negative shtick. However, it would be remiss to ignore their issues.
So majors, listen up: stop paying your CEOs obscene amounts. Stop throwing money around like it’s on fire. Stop signing any band that looks vaguely like they might have a hit. And start having more invested in every band you sign; not just the ones that sell a certain amount of records. And for God’s sake, on behalf of the younger generation, do away with CD singles. No one is buying them, I promise. It’s called: digital downloads. Check it out sometime. Revolutionary, I know.
In the end, Dan Kennedy’s story is the same for many of us going into this crazy business. We bought into the rock star dream, but in a different way. We wanted to be the people behind the personalities, the brains behind the billboards and soundboards. Some of us will stay, and recreate the industry, others are just not quite cut out for that life, and most of us will get unfairly fired due to past indiscretions by executives we have never even seen. Thank heavens Kennedy was the victim of just that, because if someone hadn’t slashed the marketing budget, Rock On: An Office Power Ballad might never have seen the light of day; and that idea is just about as frightening as the haircuts some of those label CEOs are still sporting. Believe me, Dan Kennedy can tell you all about those...
