[Dixielandjazz] "Before The Music Dies" - The Movie

[Steve Barbone]

Some may enjoy this off beat movie review. Although it is not OKOM, there
are many parallels to in the movie and review to recent threads on the DJML.
If you have an inquiring mind, about what's wrong (or right) with the music
and those who perform it these days, read on.

Cheers,
Steve Barbone


What Is Ailing Pop Music? Depends Whom You Ask

NY TIMES - By KELEFA SANNEH - November 16, 2006

Maybe you¹ve seen the trailer. A guy in a cheap suit jacket, brandishing a
big microphone, approaches some unsuspecting young women after a concert. He
is making a documentary, allegedly. His manner is naïve, but the questions
he asks are plainly insulting. Still, the women are kind enough to play
along. He says something weird about bra-burning. They respond politely.
But this isn¹t that fake documentary ³Borat.² It¹s a real documentary, or at
any rate an earnest one: ³Before the Music Dies.² The interviewer, eager to
make a point about the idiocy of popular music, has found these enthusiastic
young women outside an Ashlee Simpson concert. He asks them if they are
familiar with Bob Dylan. (At least a few of them aren¹t.) He explains Mr.
Dylan¹s appeal, or tries to: ³He used to inspire people to, like, drive to
Washington and burn their bras.² Apparently Ms. Simpson has no such
incendiary effect. Case closed.

³Before the Music Dies² is the work of a couple of concerned music fans,
Andrew Shapter and Joel Rasmussen, who set out to document the decline of
³raw, undeniable talent,² as Mr. Shapter puts it, ³the kind that doesn¹t
seem to be around as much in these days of instant pop stars.² The satellite
radio network XM is broadcasting the film as an audio documentary. (For more
information, visit beforethemusicdies.com.) And the film is touring the
country in do-it-yourself style; it is being shown in clubs, at colleges,
and in private homes; tomorrow night a guy named Ryan in Minneapolis is
inviting people over to watch it.

This is a passionate film, but not a very convincing one. Doyle Bramhall II,
a blues-rock guitarist and singer, talks about his frustrating years in the
music industry. Unnamed fans wonder why radio isn¹t as good as it used to
be. Insiders and critics (including Jon Pareles, of The New York Times) talk
about how the musical marketplace has changed over the last few decades.

Trying to corral these differing opinions, the voice-of-God narrator asks,
³As the torchbearers of America¹s rich musical heritage fight for survival
amidst the wreckage of what was once the record industry, what does the
future hold?² (Objection! Leading the witness!)

You¹ve heard this story before, maybe from an overserved guy at a party
who¹s eager to explain why they don¹t make ¹em ‹ blues musicians? sitcoms?
stained glass windows? parties? ‹ like they used to.

For as long as there has been a music industry, there have been music lovers
criticizing it. What¹s new is that, as CD sales continue to decline, slowly
but steadily, the insiders¹ critique has come to resemble the outsiders¹
critique. Bob Lefsetz, the longtime music-industry gadfly, publishes a
splenetic e-mail newsletter (archived online at lefsetz.com) that is, if
anything, even angrier than the film; one typical recent riff began, ³This
business is so rotten, it¹s unbelievable.² (Full disclosure: You¹re reading
a writer whom Mr. Lefsetz seems to like.) Even Alain Levy, the head of EMI
Music, recently announced, ³The CD as it is right now is dead,² adding, ³We
have to be much more innovative in the way we sell physical content.²

This is what¹s truly odd about the current music-industry slump: it has
created an unexpected consensus among people who usually disagree. From
do-it-yourself pioneers like Jenny Toomey (an indie rocker and activist who
is interviewed in the film) to former executives; from unsigned hopefuls to
arena-filling stars like Dave Matthews (who is also interviewed), everyone
thinks something is wrong with the music industry. And so long as the
discussion doesn¹t go much further than that, it seems as if all these
people agree.

Look closer, though, and you¹ll see that this story isn¹t quite so simple.
Take Mr. Bramhall, the guitarist and singer: he was actually signed twice,
by Geffen and then by RCA. If you love his music, you may wonder why major
labels couldn¹t make him a success; if you don¹t, you may wonder why on
earth major labels kept signing him.

Bonnie Raitt hints at some of these complexities when she reminisces about
the good old days at Warner Brothers in the 1970s. She says, ³Their big
sellers, Deep Purple and Black Sabbath, would pay for Ry Cooder and Randy
Newman and me and Little Feat.² That sounds like a great system, unless of
course you¹re a member of Deep Purple or Black Sabbath, in which case it
might be time to negotiate a better contract.

Unlike some of the more sentimental commentators in the film, Mr. Lefsetz is
obsessed with numbers: Nielsen SoundScan sales figures, PollStar concert
statistics and the like. And because his is an industry perspective (albeit
a dissident one), he respects just about any act that really sells records.

Lots of the folks in ³Before the Music Dies² might think the hugely popular
Canadian neogrunge band Nickelback is a sign of all that¹s wrong with the
world. But when the most recent Nickelback album hit 3.7 million copies sold
in America, Mr. Lefsetz could scarcely contain his glee, writing: ³Could it
be that Nickelback is now the leader because they¹re the only one with any
values? And the rest of the acts are sold-out whores purveying music that
has the fading taste and longevity of bubble gum?² Hmm. Don¹t answer that
question. Or rather, don¹t try to answer it without addressing the simple
but slippery issue of taste. We can argue all day about bubble gum and CD
sales and microformatted radio and major-label artist development. But none
of that makes much sense unless we¹re also willing to discuss what music we
like, and why. (For the record Nickelback¹s current hit, ³Far Away,² is a
first-rate power ballad.)

³Before the Music Dies² is incoherent because it doesn¹t examine its own
taste. The filmmakers advance a particular musical vision ‹ a world full of
bluesy guitarists, rootsy jam bands, old-fashioned soul singers and quirky
fusionists ‹ while pretending they¹re merely diagnosing the music industry.

It¹s clear that something is happening. The CD is certainly dying (though
it¹s not dead yet), and the power of major labels and big radio stations is
clearly under siege. But how you feel about all this probably depends on
whether you have a vested interest in the current system, and on what kind
of music you like. It¹s nice to imagine we¹re all in this together. But we
ain¹t.