Monday, May 4, 2009

Interview w/ The Soundtrack Of Our Lives



Soundcheck @ the Troubadour 3/16/09. Photo by Linda Rapka


My interview with Swedish rock gods The Soundtrack Of Our Lives as published by LA Record:


Calling The Soundtrack Of Our Lives just another Swedish rock band is like calling Obama just another U.S. President. The premiere psych-rockers of Scandinavia, Ebbot Lundberg (vocals), Mattias Bärjed (guitar), Kalle Gustafsson (bass), Martin Hederos (keys), Ian Person (guitar) and Fredrik Sandsten (drums) have redefined what it means to be influenced by ’70s psychedelia, prog pop and classic rock with their uncanny ability to own the music they are so readily influenced by. Though Sweden’s economy is in as much trouble as ours, the band wasn’t bashful about releasing their latest effort, “Communion” – a discussion of the corporate mass psychosis that has slowly taken over the world – as an epic 90-minute double-CD. The band stopped by L.A. for the first time since opening for Robert Plant four years ago, having just enough time to do Leno, play a one-off at the Troubadour, and perform an acoustic set at a private party thrown by the Swedish Embassy in their honor. Just before sound check at the legendary West Hollywood club, Ebbot, Ian and Mattias strolled over to a nearby park to soak in some California sunshine, get trampled by frolicking dogs, and chat with Linda Rapka about their new album.


Explain the cover art of your new album, “Communion” – a wealthy, middle-aged Caucasian couple drinking an ungodly concoction of fluorescent green alien juice.
Ian: We hired this guy to come up with some ideas about mass communication. So he came up with a few suggestions and this came up, and we kind of collaborated from there.

So what exactly is in that drink?
Ebbot: Tomorrow we will find out, because they’re gonna have this party, and they’re gonna do these drinks. So I’m curious!
Ian: We’re going to a party at the Swedish Embassy.
Ebbot: There will be lots of them there…

The new album was based on a theme of modern mass psychosis – which I see happening here in the U.S. Was America a major source of inspiration?
Ebbot: It was a global thing. I don’t know if you’ve seen the whole [CD] package, but it’s not only Caucasians, but all people.
Ian: It’s like Noah’s Ark.
Ebbot: Yeah, it’s like an ark. It’s just pictures you see every day without even thinking about it. It can be plastic surgery, it can be like a life coach, or whatever. I’m curious about the people on the cover – they don’t really know they’re on the cover. So we’ll see what’s going to happen. We might get sued!

Releasing a double CD in today’s economy is pretty ballsy.
Ian: We didn’t go out and say, “Let’s do a double CD.” It sort of evolved itself, really.
Mattias: I guess we always wanted to do a double album as well and now it just felt natural to do that.

You recently got out of your contractual obligations from Warner Bros. The last album you worked on, “Origins: Vol. 1,” they were pestering you about what was going to be the radio hit. That can be difficult when trying to create a work of art.
Ian: Especially when you’re in the studio and trying just to get everything going.
Ebbot: Well, I dunno. There’s a lot of singles on the new one, so we’re just gonna put out singles from the album and see what happens. Milk it as long as we can.
Ian: Basically Warner didn’t really have the money, ’cause we wanted a certain amount of money to do this album and they said no.

This album sounds a lot more energized than “Origins.”
Ian: We kind of had a lot more fun!
Mattias: We had some time off, actually like two years, before we started working on this album, so I guess that’s – you can hear that.
Ian: We had a lot of energy going in.

It sounds like it – which is probably why you ended up with so many songs.
Ian: For once it was quite easy to do the album. For once it was quite fun!

It always sounds like you guys are having fun.
Ian: But this time we actually had fun! We always had fun afterwards when the album is done. But now it was a nice process all the way.

I read that each of 24 tracks is supposed to symbolize each hour of the day.
Ebbot: It could be. It could be anything.

Were you trying to bring back the lost art of the concept album?
Ebbot: Yeah, why not? We grew up with it and we love it, so why not?

In today’s mp3 culture, a concept album is a way to bring back listening to an entire album.
Ian: Absolutely. Take some time off and listen. That’s one thing to do. The vinyl is coming back. All the record stores back home now they carry as much CDs as vinyl these days. The kids are learning.
Ebbot: It’s more like you do something that you wish existed and then you do it. You kind of miss it, you miss idea of what this became.
Ian: Carry on with the old legacy.

You cover a Nick Drake song, which is an interesting choice – not many people are perhaps brave enough to take on Drake.
Ebbot: That was the reason. Nobody ever did it. Maybe it was the wrong idea, I don’t know! We kind of did it around the demo version, which is on “The Time of No Reply.” The other one, John Cale produced, and it doesn’t really sound that good.

Another track, “The Fan Who Wasn’t There,” was based on a conversation that Ebbot had with Arthur Lee.
Ebbot: Yeah, some of it. He played in Gothenburg, his manager was there, who passed away like six months later, and then he passed away, sadly. It’s inspired by that conversation, having drinks for three hours. That was pretty fun. But it was sad…

It sounds like there were a lot of ’60s/’70s influences going on.
Ian: Yes.
Mattias: Yes.
Ebbot: Yes. And we DJ’d. It’s like all time is one time.
Ian: Squeeze them all in together. The best picks of raisins in the cookies.

I don’t like raisins.
Ian: Chocolate chips then.

Do you enjoy listening to your own records?
Ebbot: Yes. We’re warming up to it sometimes. Our own records. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s The Soundtrack of our Lives. We try to be what the name is. Sometimes it sucks. And sometimes it’s OK.

I stumbled upon a food blog where your bandmate Martin had posted his recipe for lamb tagine. Do any of you have any hidden surprises?
Ian: Martin and I are the chefs in the band. I’m into the Italian kitchen at the moment. A friend of mine had his wedding recently and I cooked for like 200 people.
Ebbot: Did you get paid?
Ian: No, I didn’t get paid. But the food was great. And I got to eat the food.

The food is what’s really important.
Mattias: When we come over here we try to eat as much Mexican food as possible because it’s really hard to find good Mexican food in Scandinavia – Sweden, Norway or Finland – it’s impossible.
Ebbot: There are no Mexicans. Just Finnish people.

You haven’t been to the U.S. since 2005.
Ebbot: We actually here in 2007 in New York for a while.
Ian: And Austin last year, SXSW. We did a couple of hit and runs. Guerilla warfare.

But what about L.A.? We missed you.
Ian: We love L.A., so we’ve been sad.
Ebbot: We went to China last year.
Ian: But that’s not America.

Was that your first time in China? What was it like?
Ebbot: It was exactly like here. But it’s even more futuristic. It’s like beyond “Bladerunner.”
Ian: The director’s cut.
Ebbot: It’s happened. It’s really growing fast and scary.

That is a lot of billions of people.
Ebbot: And they’re working all night. It’s like, “You’d better stop.” They’re just like ants.
Mattias: We might go to Taiwan in a month.
Ian: And then South America in the fall.

Do you get time to actually enjoy the countries you visit?
Ian: We try and plan a couple of days. When we did those long tours we didn’t have much time, but now in China we had a few days off, Australia we had like five, six days to hang out.
Ebbot: We spent a lot of time in L.A. and had a lot of time off here.

And a lot of Mexican food.
Mattias: Yeah. As you can tell.

If Obama’s stimulus package fails and I move to Sweden, who’s couch can I stay on?
Ian: Kalle’s got a grand studio. It’s gigantic.
Mattias: My guitar tech is single.

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Cello Without Boundaries: Interview with Tina Guo



Published in the May 2009 issue of the Overture, official publication of Professional Musicians, Local 47.


Cello Without Boundaries

From classical to prog rock to metal, cellist Tina Guo pushes her instrument to a realm of endless possibilities


by Linda Rapka, Overture Managing Editor


Cellist Tina Guo has never been one for cookie-cutter labels. A virtuoso on the classical cello, the 23-year-old crossover artist is equally skilled as a powerhouse shredder on electric cello, masterfully balancing classical elegance with her inner metal child.

Tina began her musical training at age 3 in Shanghai before moving to the United States when she was 5. In the classical realm, Tina has appeared as a soloist with many orchestras internationally, including the San Diego Symphony, Thessaloniki State Symphony in Greece, Petrobras Symphony and Barra Mansa Symphony in Brazil, Vancouver Island Symphony in British Columbia, and most recently she performed the "Shostakovich Cello Concerto" with the National Symphony Orchestra in Mexico. She has also recorded with artists such as Stevie Wonder, Josh Groban, Michael McDonald and John Legend.

On what she calls her more visceral side, Tina plays electric cello on her own metal music as well as in progressive metal band Off the Deep End and has performed with rock artists including Zakk Wylde, Derek Sherinian and Persian superstar Andy Madadian.

Tina speaks with the Overture about coming to terms with her divergent musical identities, her upcoming projects, and her lust for life.



You started music at a very early age, which I understand wasn't always easy.
Both my parents are musicians. My father's a cellist, and my mom plays violin. Plus, they're Chinese, so they're very strict! It's very rare for a kid to want to sit in a room eight hours a day practicing. My parents forced me to, and I hated them. But after I grew up a little and came to L.A. for college at USC, my love of music developed. I realized it wasn't just a punishment. I found that having the technical control of the instrument gave me the ability to express myself freely. It's a very good foundation. Actually, pretty recently I've repaired my relationship with my parents.

You play classical on acoustic cello and metal on electric cello. How do each enable you to express yourself?
The beauty of classical music is being able to push and pull within a defined boundary, being able to work magic within what's allowed. I think classical and metal are the two closest, emotionally, in music, because they're very deep. There's a lot of depth and emotion. In metal, usually it's more tortured emotion. When you play metal, there is no box, you can do whatever you want. I feel most spiritually connected to the universe through classical music. But metal, that's primal. It's carnal, it's visceral. It's not on a higher realm of being. Classical, for me, is more enlightened. They're both on each side of the extreme.

What inspires you most as a musician?
Emotionally and mentally, for a human being, at least for me, I think you have to experience life in order to express it in your music. I mean, what is your music going to say if you don't know anything?

What are you working on right now?
I have my solo classical stuff, and I'm just starting to work on my solo metal project. I'm working on a metal version of "Flight of the Bumblebee."

You're also in a progressive rock band.
I have a band, with my boyfriend, called Off the Deep End. We are off the deep end – we're crazy! My boyfriend has more of a classic rock influence than myself. It's an interesting mixture. Our very first gig was the official wrap party for the Sundance Film Festival. We only had two songs, because we had just started the band. So we played our opening song, our closing song, and got off the stage.

Who has had the most influence on you musically?
When I was at USC I played at Disney Hall in a quartet with Midori. She's a great musician. I learned a lot from her. I'm naturally really crazy, up and down emotionally. She taught me there's something beautiful about control, and when you do decide to go over the edge, it's really something major.

Who have you worked with on the metal/rock side?
Recently I played on a track with Zakk Wylde, the guitar player for Ozzy. Most of the time people still use string instruments and cello for pretty things, which is fine, but my metal side wants to replace the lead guitar and do all that with electric cello.

These days a lot of traditionally orchestral instruments are going electric.
I think it's definitely a movement that's starting. Electric guitars once didn't exist, but somebody decided to plug in a classical guitar, and now electric guitar is like second nature.

You joined Local 47 a year ago. Has being a union member had an impact?
When I was at USC I met Mark Robertson, a union member who plays violin, who told me about it. Being in the union's great. All of the major session work and TV shows and movies – you can't do them if you're not in the union. It's a great safety net with the economy the way it is. They have the Relief Fund, there's a Pension Fund, there's health insurance... I was amazed when I found out about it, because being a freelance musician and not having a retirement fund is really scary.

Do you have any advice for aspiring cellists?
I don't mean to be cliché, but just be yourself. I can't tell anyone to be wild and do everything, 'cause maybe that will make someone unhappy and miserable. You just have to do what you love to do. But also be realistic. If you find that something isn't working out, don't stick in there until your life falls apart. Also, I think marketing yourself is very important. You have to meet people to get places. Sitting in a practice room for 10 hours a day is not gonna get you anywhere.

Classical and metal are seemingly at opposite ends of the spectrum. How do you account for being able to so seamlessly delve into both realms?
You only live once, and you have to embrace life. You have to do everything that you can do – without killing yourself. I don't drink at all, I don't do any drugs. I guess I find my excitement in other ways, and I try to artistically pursue as much as I can to the very extreme without going overboard. Whatever you tell me I can't do, I'm gonna do it just to make you angry. Sometimes that gets me into trouble, but for me personally, I'd rather be the lion than the lamb.

Visit Tina Guo online at www.tinaguo.com.

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Monday, April 20, 2009

Ratatat @ the Palladium 4/4/09


Photo by Tim Drummond


As published by LA Record:



Having seen New York’s rock-driven electronic powerhouse Ratatat seven times (and counting), I’ve come to expect nothing short of greatness from guitarist Mike Stroud and bassist/synthman Evan Mast. No surprises at this show; the duo delivered their usual rock solid, booty-grinding performance. The Palladium, having recently undergone yet another renovation, is becoming an increasingly annoying venue (bag checks and full-body pat downs, seriously?). Regular concertgoers and press alike were subject to impolite security restricting floor access even to those of us with appropriate wristbands. But if you’re not averse to chatting up heavyset men in yellow jackets, you’ll end up having a good time in front of the stage. Before Ratatat delivered their highly anticipated set, the crowd suffered through the ridiculous white-boy rapping of Despot (“I eat donuts with grown-ups”… wha?) and was growing increasingly impatient during Tussle’s tepid not-so-experimental electronic set, the end of which was droned out by ravenous chants of “RATATAT! RATATAT!” from die-hards on the floor.

Gracing the stage a full half-hour late, the duo proved worth the wait. They started strong with the bombastic “Shiller” off their latest album, LP3, and never let up. The audience was almost as interesting as the show itself—mistaking the Palladium for Coachella Valley, a mysterious dude with an endless supply of water bottles wandered through the crowd squirting liquid into the gaping mouths of people apparently unconcerned with what else might be contained within the free water. Ratatat delivered favorites like “Crips” and “Loud Pipes” from their 2004 self-titled debut, “Wildcat” and “Lex” from their sophomore release Classics, and “Mirando” and “Shempi” from their latest. The set was full of material old and new—“full” being the operative word. My feet were shrieking bloody murder by the end of the looooong hour-and-a-half set, and by the time “17 Years” exploded from the stage, I was ecstatic—not only because it’s my fave Ratatat tune, but because it always signals the end of the show.

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Thursday, April 2, 2009

Tickling the Ivories With Roger Williams




Published in the March 2009 issue of the Overture, official publication of Professional Musicians, Local 47.


Tickling the Ivories With Roger Williams

by Linda Rapka, Overture Managing Editor


Pianist Roger Williams is used to being in the limelight, but you wouldn't know it from speaking with him. Modest about his talent, he speaks more of his joy of music rather than his accomplishments – which are many. Throughout his seven-decade career he's accumulated 18 gold and platinum albums and can perform an estimated 10,000 songs from memory, a feat he proves every year during 12-hour marathon performances in the name of bringing music back to public schools. In December, his latest CD, "Roger Williams in the Crystal Cathedral," became the #1 seller in the Readers Digest catalogue. He speaks with the Overture from his home in Encino.


You've performed for so many U.S. Presidents, you're known as "Pianist to the Presidents."
I've played for nine presidents now. The first one I ever played for was Harry Truman. I didn't realize how much Truman knew about piano. He asked for everything from Bach to Shostakovich. When I got through, he said, "Now I'm gonna play for you, Roger." I figured he'd sit down and play something like "The Missouri Waltz," but he played the Chopin "C-Sharp Minor Waltz." When he got through, I said, "Mr. President, you would have made a great pianist." He said, "I had a choice between being a whorehouse pianist or a politician. Many times I thought I made the wrong choice."

How did you meet Ronald Reagan?
We started in the same radio station in Iowa. He was a sportscaster, and I had my own radio show. The last time I played for him he said, "Can you remember the theme song from my TV show 'Death Valley Days'?" I said, "You sure got me on that one!" He said, "I'm only kidding. Play 'The Impossible Dream.' That encompasses everything I've tried so hard to do for this great country." He was quite a guy.

Have you performed for President Obama?
I was at the White House in December and played for all the foreign and current ambassadors in the East Room, but I haven't played for Obama yet. But this will happen... I hope!

Every year you perform 12-hour piano marathons to raise awareness for music education in schools.
The last one I played was 14 hours, and believe me, my fingers are bleeding at the end. When people come to these performances we hand them a piece of paper at the door, and they write what they want me to play. A lot of musicians come, so they ask for all these difficult things. So it's a very exhausting performance before I'm through.

What inspired you to get involved with bringing music to students?
I'm really upset about a lot of things. I loved Reagan, but he's like me – he's the greatest guy in the world, except when he isn't. He largely took music out of the schools. Kids are not really inspired. I would like really seriously to get music back into the schools, which has proved to make better students – they get better grades, they're happier, the whole thing.

Do you still enjoy playing as much as you did when you first began your career?
I am playing better than I've ever played in my life, and I can't understand that. I'll be 85 my next birthday, but I play better than I did when I was 20. I've got a lousy knee that I got playing basketball in high school, but outside of that I'm in great health, and I feel great, so I'm playing up a storm!

You've performed practically everywhere imaginable, from Carnegie Hall to the White House to Vegas casinos. What's been your favorite?
So many musicians will tell me, "I think Milwaukee is lousy, I was there last month and I hated it." What they're usually trying to say is they were bad that night. No matter where I am, if I'm in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and I play a great concert – I love Cedar Rapids, Iowa! But if I louse up…

You are a frequent guest on the "Hour of Power" TV show with Dr. Robert Schuller. How did that relationship develop?
Duke Ellington was playing a concert at the Crystal Cathedral. He got sick and asked me to substitute for him, so I went in to play. My manager forgot to bring the music for the orchestra, so I asked the musicians to make a few requests. Someone asked for "Jesus Loves Me," so for almost an hour I improvised in the style of all the composers. Schuller came up afterwards and just flipped out, saying he'd never heard anything like that in his life, and asked me to be on his program. I told him I don't charge for these religious things that I play – I just come in and try and thank God for the gift that he gave me. So he said, "Would you like to testify?" I said I don't know, because I believe in so many religions and have so much respect for so many religions. So he said, "I tell you what. You pray through your fingers." I said, "If that's good enough for you, that's good enough for me!" I have played with him now for over 30 years, whenever I'm in town. And of course we have a union orchestra out there, but I just don't charge.

I heard that to get you to practice piano as a child, your mother had to bribe you with milk and cookies.
She always had a plate of cookies and a pitcher of milk on the piano when I got home from school, and I practiced until the cookies ran out. Music always came so easy for me. I never really had to worry about it, so I didn't like to practice.

You used to aggravate piano teachers because you could play back exactly what they played to you.
All along the way I had trouble. Even in the university, the heads of the department were very jealous. This is something that we have to face in life. You have to pay for the things that you get in life. I was given a gift. I know about 10,000 different songs. I can read music, but I just don't fool with it. And I can play them in any key. But I'm a lousy golfer.

Is it true you were expelled from Drake University for playing "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes"?
For my girlfriend, yes. In those days Drake had a policy of the three B's: Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. My girlfriend came in the practice room one day and asked if I knew that song, and just then the head of the department came in, screaming, "We don't do that here!" As Truman would say, "whorehouse music."

I understand in high school you wanted to be a boxer.
My father was a former boxer. Have you ever heard of a PK? It's a preacher's kid. And the combination of preacher's kid and musician spelled sissy in school. So my dad put a pair of gloves on me! And when I got in the Navy, I won the championship. I broke my nose two different times boxing, so I stopped.

What led you to a career in music?
When I was a kid, my father had the largest Lutheran church in the country. People would buy their kids trumpets and violins and everything else, and the kids would get tired of playing them after a couple of years and they'd donate them to the church. So we had all those instruments there and I just played anything that came in. by the time I was 12, I played about 13 different instruments. I play anything. I just love music.

What drew you to the piano?
It was a process of elimination, really. I really felt closer to the piano than anything else. We all gotta do what we feel. That's why I hate to make rules for anyone in life, because we're all so different mentally, chemically, religiously – how dare we tell the other guy he has to be that way! Live and let live. I believe in Darwin, I believe in evolution. I think that basically we're all animals, and I think that when we try and rise above the animal, that's when we become truly men and women.

In 2005, Steinway & Sons created the Roger Williams Limited Edition Gold Piano, the first piano ever named for an artist in the company's 153-year history.
They made a gold Steinway for me, and it's just beautiful. They've never done that for an artist before, and I was the first one to receive the Steinway Lifetime Achievement Award, too. Steinway's been awfully good to me.

That sounds like every pianist's dream come true.
Well, it certainly was mine.

When did you join the musicians union?
I was 11. My dad took me and said, you're playing on the radio now, it's time to the join the union. And I did, and I've been a union member ever since. That was in Des Moines, Iowa.

How important do you think it is for young musicians to join the union?
We have to have somebody standing up for us. We do. And we have to establish a base. I always pay my musicians over scale. But if you don't have anything to go by… I strongly believe in the union. Except when I don't.

What's your advice to budding musicians just getting started in the business?
It's the kind of advice that they probably wouldn't take because they've heard it from the beginning: Work your butt off. I'm the luckiest guy in the world, and I mean that. That doesn't mean my knee doesn't hurt. But compared to much, I'm a very fortunate man.

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Sunday, March 1, 2009

Battle of the Airwaves



Published in the March 2009 issue of the Overture, official publication of Professional Musicians, Local 47.


Battle of the Airwaves

Performers, advocates and lawmakers renew their fight to close the radio-play loophole denying royalties to performing artists with the Performance Rights Act


by Linda Rapka, Overture Managing Editor

Whenever a song is broadcast over radio, royalties are paid to nearly everyone involved with the recording – except the people who actually performed on the record.

Every time you hear Aretha belting out her powerful version of "Respect" on the AM/FM dial, you might think that, as the performing artist, she's receiving some sort of compensation. But you'd be wrong. The estate of the late Otis Redding, who composed the tune, receives a check from BMI, as does the song's publisher, Irving Music Inc. But Aretha doesn't see a dime.

Where's the R-E-S-P-E-C-T for performers?

Consider that when this same tune is played on satellite radio, a cable music station, or a webcast – even a webcast of the above-mentioned terrestrial station – checks are sent to the Redding estate, the publisher, and to Miss Franklin.

If this sounds peculiar, it is. Besides the United States, only a few countries do not provide a terrestrial broadcast performance right on radio, including Iran, North Korea and China. At least 75 nations, including most European Union member states, do have a performance right for radio.

Traditional-Radio Loophole

Why does U.S. radio get the golden exemption? Since the advent of commercial broadcasting in the 1950s, broadcasters have contended that airplay increases album sales, thereby serving as adequate compensation. Because labels were content with receiving this "free advertising," for decades broadcasters have been able to convince Congress that they should be exempt from paying the public performance royalty for sound recordings.

But not everyone sees this as a win-win. At a Grammy Town Hall meeting last month, Supremes singer Mary Wilson countered the argument that radio airplay is solely a promotional tool that drives sales and touring for artists and thus serves as fair compensation. Anyone who wanted to buy the Supremes' music has likely long since done so, she argued. Many such artists are no longer touring or producing new albums, but radio continues to reap benefits from their decades-old songs.

Performance Rights Act

Lawmakers are seeking to close the "corporate radio loophole" with the Performance Rights Act. First introduced in December 2007, the bipartisan bill was resubmitted to Congress last month as H.R. 848 and S. 379 by its sponsors, Sens. Patrick Leahy (D-VT) and Orrin Hatch (R-UT). Supporters claim the bill would have minimal affect on most radio operators in the United States, with over 75 percent capped at a $5,000 blanket license as long as they stay under revenue benchmarks. Non-profits would be capped at $1,000.

Performing artists and advocates including the AFM, AFTRA, recording artists, the U.S. Copyright Office, the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) and members of Congress from both parties and houses support the bill, which would require terrestrial stations to pay performance royalties to artists, musicians and master recording owners.

The AFM has actively urged Congress to pass the legislation since it was first introduced. In June 2008, Local 47 Vice President (then Vice President) Vince Trombetta joined other AFM members and performers in an effort organized by the AFM and the Music FIRST Coalition urging Congress to support the expansion of the public performance royalty. They lobbied members of the House and Senate Judiciary Committees and other key members of Congress such as Rep. Dan Lungren (R-CA), Sen. John Cornyn (R-TX), Rep. Zoe Lofgren (D-CA) and Rep. Hilda Solis (D-CA), and AFM President Tom Lee and recording artist Nancy Sinatra testified before a House Subcommittee hearing about the importance of fair performance rights on radio.

Importance of Royalties

The RIAA maintains that it is "fundamentally unfair that publishers and songwriters receive royalties from terrestrial radio broadcasts while labels and performing artists do not." Royalties are generated when a copyrighted song is publicly performed – whether on a radio station, at a sports event, or on a jukebox. In the U.S., these royalties are collected by ASCAP, BMI and SESAC and distributed to the member songwriters and publishers. And we're not talking chump change: in 2007 ASCAP distributed more than $741 million; BMI paid out $786 million last year; and by the end of 2007, SoundExchange, which collects royalties for digital music transmissions, had collected royalties of over $248 million, so far having distributed more than $150 million to artists.

Brief History of Residuals

The residual system started in U.S. network radio. Live radio programs with nationwide audiences were usually performed multiple times to account for different time zones between the coasts. The performers were paid for each performance. Audio "transcription disc" technology became available in the late 1930s and was used by radio networks for time-delaying the west coast broadcast, eventually eliminating the need for multiple performances. The performers were kept on standby and paid for a second performance in case there were technical problems with the recording. This established the precedent for residual payments from recorded performances.

Digital Media: A Wrench in the Works

When digital streaming technology came along, it upset the happily symbiotic relationship between radio broadcasters and labels. Americans began spending less time flipping the AM/FM dials, opting instead for newer technologies such as Internet and satellite radio, and iPods. The new availability of "on demand" media was seen as a threat to album sales, which led to the passage of the Digital Public Performance Right in Sound Recordings Act of 1995, giving artists and labels a right to collect royalties when their sound recordings are performed via digital media. Traditional radio remained exempt from this new performance right act, however, as it only applied to new media.

Today, music consumption continues to move further away from CD sales and toward digital media. Physical album sales fell 20 percent to 362.6 million in 2008, from 450.5 million in 2007. Meanwhile, sales of digital music continued to soar with more than 1 billion songs downloaded last year, a 27 percent increase from 2007. These figures indicate that the likelihood of performers being compensated based on traditional CD retail sales will only continue to decline as digital media gains popularity.

Radio's 'Unfair Free Ride'

With new media platforms have to make royalty payouts to songwriters, publishers and performers, traditional radio's performance right exemption is more and more being seen as unfair. Broadcasters of digital performances – digital cable and satellite television, Internet and satellite stations like XM and Sirius, and webcasts – have to obtain licenses from ASCAP, BMI and SESAC, which compensate the songwriters and publishers, and must also pay royalties to the performers. Terrestrial radio which remains the only medium which broadcasts music but does not compensate artists or labels for the performance.

Opponents of the Performance Rights Act

A major opponent to the Performance Rights Act is the Free Radio Alliance, a coalition of individual terrestrial radio stations and other organizations such as the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB). They argue that while a performance right sounds good, most of the money would not, in fact, trickle down to the artists; a full 50 percent of the fee would not go to performers, but rather the owners of the recorded works (i.e. the record labels). They add that the money wouldn't even be going to American-based companies – three out of the four major record labels (EMI, Sony BMG and Universal) are foreign-owned and headquartered outside the United States.

Calling it a "tax" that would cripple broadcast radio, opponents say the bill would cause more stations to turn to talk and news programming, resulting in less exposure for musicians which fuels their concert and record sales. At a hearing on the controversial bill last June, Charles Warfield, on behalf of the NAB, said that a performance fee would "take money out of the pockets of local radio stations and put it in the hands of record companies and a few top-grossing performers," arguing that a performance fee "would not alleviate any economic concerns if the artists themselves continue to lack bargaining power in their relationships with the record labels." Opponents say the bill would create a slippery slope, fearing that over time institutions other than radio would be included, such as restaurants, bars, gyms and even offices.

Performance Rights' Effect on Radio

If performance right fees are levied on local radio, some fear that stations would be forced to increase advertisement to compensate for the additional expenditure – meaning less time for music, news, sports, weather and public service or community service programming. Many smaller, community or specialty radio stations unable to afford the fees would be forced to shut down, and even those larger stations which could sustain the fees would have a smaller revenue pool to provide local news and information.

Those against the bill argue that although as currently written it would give favorable treatment to smaller stations (nonprofits capped at $1,000 and the majority of stations capped at $5,000), there exists the threat that the fees would expand, as has been the case with Internet radio. In 2007, the Copyright Royalty Board ruled that the fee to play a music recording on web radio should increase from 8/100 of a cent per song, per listener in 2006 to 19/100 of a cent in 2010.

Opponents see the PRA as disastrous for the very recording artists and record companies who are pushing for its enactment, arguing that the revenues many artists and labels seek in exchange for performance of their copyrighted recordings would be reduced, while the essentially free broadcast advertising of concerts (and related merchandise) that has existed for years would dwindle, leaving everybody involved worse off than before.

Supporters of the legislation maintain these claims are largely overrated. They argue that land-based radio has enjoyed margins of up to 75 percent on some music formats, such as smooth jazz or classic rock. And because terrestrial stations here don't compensate American or foreign performers, foreign stations don't pay U.S. performers when their songs are played abroad. Between 40 and 50 percent of all music played by foreign broadcasters is American, and estimates range from tens to hundreds of millions of dollars as far as how much money for U.S. performers, musicians and master owners is kept abroad because of the lack of a performance right here in the States.

Fighting for Fairness

Proponents of the Performance Rights Act are stepping up efforts to get the legislation approved by Congress. A Grammy Town Hall meeting Feb. 6, 2009, aimed to re-stimulate the grassroots movement in support of the bill. The two Judiciary Committee chairs, Patrick Leahy (D-VT) and John Conyers (D-MI), with an assist from a bipartisan posse of U.S. Representatives, have joined with the AFM and the musicFirst Coalition in a "nationwide push" to extract performance royalties from radio stations.

The AFM, AFTRA and ASCAP have urged Congress to pass the bill "as quickly as possible." National Music Publishers' Association President and CEO David Israelite issued a statement in support of the bill, proposing the concept of "One Music" urging the entire music community to "be supportive of each other regarding the value of music."

"Recording artists fuel the business that sustains radio in the U.S.," said AFTRA National Executive Director Kim Roberts Hedgpeth. "The federal government now has an opportunity to correct this area of inequity by creating a performance right for all recording artists to receive fair compensation for the value they bring to the American airwaves, and our culture as a whole."

"The Performance Rights Act will ensure that musicians get fair compensation when corporate AM/FM radio stations broadcast their recorded work," Local 47 President Trombetta said. "May the radio Gods shine upon us."

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Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Interview w/ Hal Blaine (LA Record)


Illustration by Zach Hill


My interview with Hal Blaine as published in LA Record.


Listen to K-Earth for 10 minutes and you’ll hear Hal Blaine’s drums on at least half of the playlist. Drummer of the legendary group of session musicians in the ’50s and ’60s dubbed ‘The Wrecking Crew,’ Hal is the most recorded drummer of all time, estimated to have played on nearly 6,000 of the best known songs in modern history with hundreds of artists including Frank Sinatra, the Beach Boys, Elvis Presley, the Byrds, the Grass Roots, Sonny & Cher, the Mamas & the Papas, and Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass. He recorded 40 #1 singles, had 150 songs in the Top Ten, played on eight albums that won Grammys for Record of the Year, and was a key figure in Phil Spector’s ‘Wall of Sound.’ He celebrates his 80th birthday on Feb. 5. This interview by Linda Rapka.

Who’s a better drummer—you or Richard ‘Pistol’ Allen of the Funk Brothers?
There’s no such thing as ‘better.’ I might have been luckier. I probably did many more hit records than he did. I have very close to 6,000 now.

You’ve played drums on more records than anybody — ever.
Probably. Yeah, probably. I guess there’s a thing called YouTube, and I was told you punch up my name and there are lists and lists and lists of albums I did.

How were you able to master so many different styles and genres?
We were all very well-versed — very studied musicians, graduates of music schools and institutions. If you wanna make it to the big time, you’ve got to know what you are doing. We knew what we were doing. We could go in and play any kind of music that was put in front of us, including the big music that was just coming in — rock ’n’ roll.

Did it bother you that you weren’t credited on all these hit records?
No. I was just happy playing my drums. We were very fortunate. We were all nightclub musicians making little money, and all of a sudden we fell into this—I like to call it this ‘vat of chocolate.’ In the beginning, they just never put credits on albums of musicians or background singers. One of the great producers came around, Bones Howe, and insisted that we get credits, and all of a sudden it started happening.

How many tracks would you record in a day?
Anywhere from one to 12 for a complete album.

You’d cut a whole album in a single day?
We often did. In a double session we’d do six in the first and six in the second.

What takes most bands months took you guys one day.
That’s because we had the studio experience. When we were doing Beach Boys, Dennis Wilson was a fine drummer, but he wasn’t really a drummer—he was a piano player. He’d go out there, but I was making the records. I was making 60 bucks that afternoon, and he probably making $50,000 or $60,000 that night.

Did it piss you off that you were making all these other people rich while your own albums couldn’t sell?
It never did because I was hired to make records, and every time I went in to record all I wanted to do was make a hit record for those people, not for myself. I mean sure, if I was on a record with Elvis Presley, of course that was a feather in my cap. And I wound up with more feathers than an Indian chief. I just never became an egomaniac. I didn’t go around saying, ‘Do you want me to use my John Denver sticks?’

Would you have preferred to have made it big in your own band?
Really, no. It’s like with movie stars: they have their hit movie, they work for so many years, they get their Oscar, and then they don’t do it anymore. I was like a good character actor. I worked in everything. I was very fortunate.

The Monkees were condemned for having the Wrecking Crew cut their albums, but all the top artists at the time were doing the same thing. Did they get a bad rap?
With the Monkees, all of a sudden it became a big scandal in Hollywood. But most people knew that they didn’t play on their records. Most people knew that we did the Beach Boys records and the Partridge Family and all those groups. They were all hits, and that’s the reason they were hits. What happened to the Monkees — it’s very silly.

Did it sink in at the time that you were doing something special?
You didn’t realize how much you were doing, when you were working two, three, four sessions a day. I was just happy to be working. We did the Mamas & the Papas overnight and they became the biggest things in the world. We did the Monterey Pop Festival. Everyone was at that show: Johnny Rivers, Jimi Hendrix, the Who, everybody. I brought the Wrecking Crew up and we were the house band for anybody who may have needed a band.

You just went up and played without rehearsing?
When you got the experience — and we had — I would just tell the guys, ‘Fake it like you’ve done for the rest of your life.’ And we did.

A lot of people don’t know that you weren’t just a session guy; you went on the road as well.
I rarely was on the road, but when John Denver went out for a week, that would be it. He never traveled for months and months. Nobody ever knew. If I left town, my secretary never, ever said that Mr. Blaine is out of town on tour, she’d just say I wasn’t available that day. When you’re known as a studio musician, that’s the top of the rung. But when you’re a road musician, you’re just a little bit under that. Nobody ever knew I went on the road.

Were there Hal Blaine groupies?
There were a few, yeah. I would go on the road sometimes and they would try to tear my clothes off. That was kind of big time.

Did you prefer the studio to being on the road?
I preferred staying at home. I had a beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills and all the toys. Unfortunately I lost them all in a divorce. I had 175 gold and platinum records on my walls, and they all had to be sold when I went through that divorce. I really lost everything.

How did you cope with that?
You just cope with it. That’s the way it was. You pick up the pieces and you start all over again. I could have… many times you’re thinking, ‘I could blow my brains out.’ But that’s not me. I wanted to play music, and I did play music.

Were you ever tempted by the vices of the ’60s?
Never. I never got into the booze, never got into the drugs. Tried marijuana a couple of times—it was terrible.

What was it like working with Phil Spector? Did he ever bring a gun to a session?
The detectives were out here for three hours questioning me. But it was kind of common knowledge that he usually was armed. He was not a drunk at all. There were no drugs involved in those sessions. I never, ever saw a gun. He was fine with us.
Can you compare working with Brian Wilson to Arthur Lee?
I don’t even remember. But I know I did that. I was involved with all those groups. Not only the Beach Boys, but America, Sonny & Cher… I just can’t think of all of them. They’re all listed on that YouTube thing.

Was anyone really nasty to work with?
Never ever. They were happy that I was there to help them make a hit record. Once in a while you’d get a producer who didn’t know what he was doing who’d say, ‘At the beginning of this song I want you to sound like the Beatles, and in the middle of the song try to do what you did on Simon & Garfunkel.’ I’d tell these guys, ‘I’ll be happy to do what you tell me to do, but why don’t you let us make hit records?’

Is it true you played snow chains on ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’?
When Paul played me ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water,’ for some reason I pictured a troubled guy in chains—in a chain gang. So I told them, ‘If you’ll allow me, I’d like to try something that might sound silly.’ They said, ‘Do what you wanna do, man.’ So I went out to my car and got my set of chains and they found a room at the studio at Columbia, an old microphone storage room, and I got a couple of pillows to set my knees on and I sat there for several hours smacking these chains to the floor. Drag on one, smack on two, drag on three, smack on four.

Of the few records you didn’t play on, what song in the rock ‘n’ roll songbook had a drumbeat where you were like, ‘Man, I wish I’d done that!’?
I don’t get inspired really much. I don’t listen to a lot of other drummers. In those days I wasn’t listening at all because I wanted my stuff to be fresh. I purposely never listened to the radio or other hit records because I didn’t want to copy what somebody else was doing.

Is there anyone in the Wrecking Crew you didn’t get along with?
Well, today of course I’m very upset with that goddamn Carol Kaye. She’s just so full of garbage. I saw her at the musicians union and I screamed expletives at the top of my lungs—‘Don’t you come near me, you son of a bitch!’ I laid it on her something terrible. She ran away. I haven’t seen her or talked to her since, and I wouldn’t anyway. She should have been tried for treason.

Did you go to Earl Palmer’s funeral?
Well, let me explain something. Earl had several families. And they all came out of the woodwork when he died because they thought he’d left millions. He had no money when he passed away. The problem is that because we were sort of the cream of the crop of musicians in Hollywood, as far as anyone was concerned we were making millions of dollars. But we weren’t. Nobody was making millions of dollars! We were working day to day, week to week, month to month, like everybody else, paying our mortgage. He was just going to have a quiet burial, which was what Earl wanted. He didn’t want a party, he didn’t want a memorial. I told my daughter the same thing. There will be no parties for me. When it’s over, it’s over. We were lucky enough to do it all, see it all, play it all, have it all, and now when we’re gone, forget it. We’re making room for the next people.

I hear that you still will play with pretty much anyone who asks for $100 an hour. Would you play my party and just go nuts on the drums for an hour?
Well, like if a guy wants me to play in a night club—I don’t want to go working in those smelly old joints. I don’t like that stuff anymore. I’m not a kid anymore. I like the peace and quiet. Once in a while if something special happens, like my buddy Don Randi has something down at the Baked Potato in Hollywood, I’m happy to do that. But I’ve been pounding those drums for well over sixty years now, and enough is enough.

Looking back on your career, what are you most proud of?
I’m supposed to get a doctorate from Berklee in Boston. I’ll be Dr. Hal Blaine, which is kinda far out. And a big scholarship—the companies I endorse, each year they’ll be donating drums and cymbals to people who get the scholarships. It’s an honor.

Will there ever be another Wrecking Crew?
Who knows? Cycles go around and you never know what’s gonna be next.

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Sunday, February 8, 2009

Amalgamation to Inauguration: A history of Local 767, Local 47 and our nation's new President



Published in the February 2009 issue of the Overture, official publication of Professional Musicians, Local 47.



Amalgamation to Inauguration
A history of Local 767, Local 47 and our nation's new President


by Linda Rapka, Overture Managing Editor

Having just elected our first black President, our nation has come further than ever before in erasing the color line of inequality. But it wasn't all that long ago when segregation was in full force, a time when it was accepted as a given that blacks should be separated from whites in society.

Our very union was among the many and varied institutions in the nation enforcing racial segregation. During this time, the AFM had more segregated Locals than any other international or national union. Up until the early 1950s, Los Angeles musicians belonged to one of two Locals: the all-white Local 47, or the all-black Local 767.

"Segregation was a way of life," explained Marl Young, recently retired from the Local 47 Board of Directors and who was instrumental in the amalgamation of the two Los Angeles musicians unions. "Nobody thought too much about it at the time. It was taken for granted as just being the way things were."

Under union segregation, black musicians received some protection. The Federation ruled that its black members came under the jurisdiction of the black Local, no matter what type of engagement they played. For example, if black musicians performed in a white club, the black Local had to enforce the wage and working conditions of the white Local, a rule meant to ensure equal pay. The Federation also ruled that if a black musician were denied admission to a Local, he or she could join the nearest Local that would accept the musician and should receive all the privileges of membership of that Local.

Segregation continued in the AFM for 51 years until a group of L.A. musicians decided that having two separate unions for one group of musicians just didn't make sense. The Bylaws of each Local stated that the purpose of each organization was to unite all the professional musicians of the Los Angeles area. They maintained that "all" should be inclusive of black and white musicians.

Starting around early 1950, prominent black musicians including Buddy Collette, Ernie Freeman, Bill Douglass, Percy McDavid, John Ewing, Gerald Wiggins, Jimmy Cheatham, John Anderson, Red Callender, Gerald Wilson, Marl Young and Bobby Short, joined by white musicians including George Kast, Gail Robinson, Seymour Sheklow, Roger Segure, Joe Eger, Henry and Esther Roth, Erica Keen, and Emma Hardy Hill, with the support of Josephine Baker, began making concerted efforts to arouse public interest in the fight for equality within the musicians union.

After years of dedication and hard work, the first merger of black and white Locals took place in 1953 in Los Angeles when Local 767 amalgamated with Local 47. In the pre-civil rights era of the early 1950s, this was an extraordinary feat. Marl Young wrote the amalgamation proposal that took effect April 1, 1953, forever eradicating racial segregation from the musicians union of Los Angeles. This historic merger set the precedent for other Locals throughout the nation to follow suit and end segregation within the entire AFM.

Now, five decades later, the equal rights movement has come further than ever before in creating equality in our society. The nation watched as Barack Obama was sworn in on Jan. 20, 2009 as our 44th President. Without the steadfast dedicated efforts of our brothers and sisters fighting in the equal rights movement, this vision could not have been realized.

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