From BB to the Beat Bank
From BB to the Beat Bank
I want to give (just) two examples of "Sharp" practisces that I personally experienced in the years 2000-2018 B.C. [ Before Corona ] The first, I was personally involved in which was when the Regional head of a very large Publishing Company personally invited me to his swanky Marelybone offices to pen a deal to licence my music. I could tell by the smoothness of this shylock's hand that he had never done a day's menial work in the last decade.
As I expected, he was late for his own meeting, making me wait and sit in silence outside his office until such a time as was convenient to him. Textbook business narcicissm. I made polite conversation with his assistant, who was embarrased about the whole situation, as he obviously had nothing pressing. Anyways, after about five minutes he invited me in and we started to discuss the music I had sent him three weeks ago at length, at which point I understood that he had not actually listened to it, and this was purely a business venture for him and his company, and he was looking to trade on my name, and not the content of my music, which was fine because I was looking for a straight transaction.
What amazed me about this meeting was that about a half hour in, he said, OK, do you have any music I can listen to ? Now as a SEN teacher, I always make allowances for early onset alzheimers, dementia, or autistic spectrum behaviour in professional discussions, so I did my best not to widen my eyes and I expressed to him that I had already sent him some tracks to listen to.
This is important for me because I think many artists will relate to the self-editing that happens in conversation with "business types" where in order not to diminish or ridicule the other party, you choose to play along with thier version of reality. So, for his benefit, I played along with the reality wherein he hadn't received an email from my with the tracks already and already responded to me. To be honest, as a jazz / improvising musician , I was also a little curious as to how long he could sustain that reality.
Anyways he checks his email clicks on a link to my music and his jaw drops. "This is ...Good!" he says in surprise To be honest at this point I am a little offended that he's surprised, but, as I try and explain to him the reasons why its "good" I can already sense he's not listening. He is, at last, observing the effect that the music has on him. HE IS FEELING. I go silent and let him have his moment. As wise a wordsmith as I am , i don't like to punctuate such moments with words, and in any case, there are only a select few I trust - the likes of - to verbalise what I have instrumentalised.
Almost embarrased, he springs out of his moment and jumps onto a computer. The screen goes black and he starts typing into a Matrix-Green command line. Very unsophisticated data returns to the screen. My music is still playing. So I try to explain a little more about it whilst pretending not to be trying to look into that screen. He doesn't seem to care at this point. I know the music that he's listening to is not THAT good, so I sense that he must sense a commercial opportunity. Either that or he is autistic. Maybe both.
He confirms with me within one minute that I am the owner of the works and nobody else has an interest in the works ( which I told him at the top of the meeting and in the email I sent three weeks prior ) I explain to him ( as per the email ) that I would like to sign a one year deal with a view to an extension based on actual results produced. He agrees, spends another five minutes producing the necessary paperwork. We discuss it at length, as he breaks down "how the industry works". I note his observations to be helpful and largely jargon free, and largely consistent with the experiences of my peers. He asks if I am ready to sign. I tell him I am ready to READ. He gives me his assistants card (which she has already given me ), invites me to an industry function happening in the near future hosted by x,y,and z, who I already know, which I tell him, which deflates him a little. He gives me his card and tells me to ring him if there are any questions or problems.
I take the contract home, and read it. Then I read it again. It is broadly coincident with the salient points we discussed in our meeting, and it's only for a year, so I am like "Nothing ventured, nothing gained". I sign and return the documents and he confirms receipt by email and that's the last time I ever had communication with that guy.
A year after signing I contacted his assistant to collect revenue and royalty statements, after his personal email address bouncing about four times, I rang and spoke to someone who was not the assistant I met, and she informed me that nobody of that name was in employment at the company. She suggested some alternate emails I could contact, and , of course, they all bounced.
I will not mention names of people because to me these people are like yeast: They survive anaerobically anyway and the oxygen of exposure will make little impact. I believe existing in that mentality is punishment enough
I write all of this to say that, unless you are a regular user of Richard Olatunde's Shea butter products, mans hand is not supposed to be softer than womans. I met one other man in manchester who had hands like this, and he was supposed to be in the "music business". Suffice to say I later found out he was a drug dealer and a pimp and almost made the lead vocalist miss the show.
Again names shall remain redacted for the purposes mutual corroboration, but I will eventually be discussing stories like the and the effects they have on real people earning a living in a fake industry on my substack .
In any case, more music is on the way... I can guarantee IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL. What you do with it from there is, of course, up to you.
*Excerpt form the book "45 T.W.I.S.T." [ The Way I Saw Things] By Vidal Montgomery. Available serially and exclusively at https://jazzreloaded.substack.com/