Pay to Play

Interesting story on NPR's Here and Now recently about how some musicians are mining their fans directly in order to bankroll production and marketing costs for new releases.

I don't know what to think of this phenomenon. At first sight, it all seems innocent and fun. But there's a claustrophobic tinge to it also. When an artist turns directly to the fans for financing, it seems as if the circle has closed. Sure, it's a passionate group ("the base") but what about expanding your audience? Is it all word-of-mouth from here on in because you can't afford the publicity that a major label would afford you?

Of course, one could argue that fan financing puts the pressure where it should be: on creating something that draws on your strengths, whatever it is that made you appealing to listeners to begin with. No more advice on image from the label, and stress to sell enough "units" to please a corporation.

It's a story that's still unfolding. At the end of the NPR piece, it's revealed that Erin McKeown's Internet fundraising stopped short of releasing her latest work on her own label. Instead, she chose to go with Ani DeFranco's Righteous Babe imprint. Smart move probably--there is much to be gained by association with a stable of artists and the market presence an established label has.

I am impressed with imprints like Appleseed Records, who have managed their company well enough to provide a vital stream of folk releases over the last dozen years. It was inspired by Pete Seeger's work, and in its catalog are several outstanding collections of Pete's work. But it also keeps issuing new releases by seminal figures like Tom Rush, Donovan and Buffy Sainte-Marie as well as promoting the more contemporary careers of artists like the Kennedys and John Wesley Harding.

I must admit, one criteria that I use to judge whether or not I'll purchase the CD is the label. If I have enjoyed their judgments before in whom they sign and promote, I'm willing to take a chance on someone new.

Yep, "brand" matters. It's just that when artists become their own label, they are the brand, and they'd better be distinctive enough to be one, or they won't sell enough units to stay in the game.

She's Got Rhythm

Erin McKeown is a spitfire. Born in Boston, the 31 year-old dimunitive singer does not wear the appellation "folksinger" comfortably because, in reality, like many of my favorite singers, she hops around different genres. Whether she's rocking or swinging, her singing remains the same—bright and clear, and immediately appealing your ear.

2006's Sing You Sinners is a terrific place to start, especially if you're a jazz enthusiast approaching her. This collection of standards is unconventional in terms of choice of material. At first it begins predictably with "Get Happy" followed swiftly with a tom-tom beating version of "Paper Moon". Fresh arrangements that get the project off to a blazing start. But then, an odd choice: Django Reinhardt's "Cou Cou"--again, light and lilting, but firmly establishing the singer's signature idiosyncrasy. Other songs in this vein that reveal this graduate of Brown University has a dynamite music collection--there's Nat King Cole's "I Was a Little Too Lonely (You Were a Little Too Late)"—don't feel dumb if you don't know it, I had to look it up and learned that the sheet music for it is out-of-print—and Anita O'Day's "Thanks for the Boogie Ride." I was especially pleased to find a novelty number whose wordplay has always delighted me, Howard Dietz and Arthur Schwartz's "Rhode Island Is Famous for You."

McKeown's voice is especially engaging on the two sad and wistful numbers in the set—"They Say It's Spring" and "Don't Worry 'Bout Me" (a lovely number I know by Sinatra. Superb choice!). They're a welcome relief from her aggressive vocal attack on most of the album.

She takes a chance by laying a mysterious and haunted interpretation Cole Porter's "Just One of Those Things". It is successful in terms of being true to the spirit of the lyric but, after hearing it performed brightly for so long, I can't say I'm giving up the author's trademark insouciance. Her one clear misstep is Fats Waller's "If You a Viper"—sorry, Erin, but that brand of hip-slapping jazz wasn't designed for such a cheerful songstress as you.

Originally Erin McKeown went to Brown to be a biologist. She started playing the guitar in college and got lost in music. She already has four studio albums under her belt. I've seen her in concert, and she's electrifying. Long may she run!