Singers sing about it, executives execute orders concerning it and consumers reflect their overwhelming disgust with it at the cash register. In one form or another, just about everybody agrees that the music business is totally screwed up.
One Pittsburgher with clout and an insider's knowledge of the industry is trying to change it.
Until last May, South Side native Mike Kraski was executive vice president and general manager of Sony Music Nashville, where he worked with The Dixie Chicks and helped launch the career of Buddy Jewel. Today, the 27-year industry veteran is president of Equity Records, a new artist-friendly Nashville-based label that's exploring a new way of doing business.
With a roster that includes a platinum-selling, Grammy-winning star and several newbies, Equity Records raised eyebrows after a string of supportive articles in music industry trade magazines. Within months of the label's founding, country superstar and Equity co-founder Clint Black placed the label on Billboard's album and singles charts. More importantly, Black and label mates who would have waited years to see a penny from other labels -- if they'd have seen a profit at all -- are already cashing royalty checks.
Next month, Equity Records will celebrate one year since the debut of its first CD, Black's "Spend My Time."
"You have to see [the music industry] from the inside to appreciate the things that are done wrong," say Kraski, in a phone call from his Nashville office. "The system is based on control of content when in reality, artists should own their own work. That's part of the problem. The financial burden is placed on artists to recoup recording costs. It's not in the artists' best interest to spend time promoting the CD when they have to be out on the road selling tickets just to pay back the label. And the label is not interested in supporting artists [long] after the CD is out."
At Equity, recording costs are absorbed by the label. Artists retain ownership of their master recordings, are paid a larger-than-average share for compositions, and start getting royalty checks from the first SoundScan sale instead of waiting until they've recouped recording costs. Most importantly, Equity artists who sell 500,000 units earn an "equity" share in the company. A full-service label, Equity and its related Equity Music Group back their artists through development, production, marketing and touring.
In return for all of that, artists cut the label in on revenues from touring, merchandise sales, publishing and sponsorships, expanding the relationship to a full career partnership.
Black, who has 11 gold records, nine platinum, one double-platinum and three triple-platinum albums, voluntarily left major label RCA because, he says, "It was pulling teeth trying to get paid."
"I've been very fortunate to have some success, and even with me it took forever to get paid for my recordings of my own songs," said Black, in an interview this year promoting a CD-signing stop at a Pittsburgh-area retailer.
"How hard do you think it is for new artists to ever get paid? The thing most people don't know is that most bands never get any money from their albums. They get paid from touring, and they spend most of that paying back the label. We started Equity because we think it should all be lumped in together -- shared risk, shared responsibility, shared benefits."
So far the Equity roster includes Black, Shannon Lawson, Kevin Fowler, Carolina Rain and Little Big Town. Wayne Warner, who opens tomorrow for Lonestar in Washington County, is signed to B-Venturous Records and has a publicity, marketing and sales agreement with Equity Music Services. Kraski says he's ready to sign more artists and is prepared to include rock, Christian and metal bands.
The Equity model isn't unique. Last year, hit pop artist Robbie Williams inked a deal with EMI in which the artist and label share in various proportions revenues from CD sales, touring, publishing and merchandising.
"It's the way the industry is heading," says Kraski. "They have to. The old model is broke and everybody knows it. ... I think the industry as a whole loves the concept [but] I'm sure there are label heads who say I'm the idiot who opened Pandora's box and they hope we'll fail."
While he spends most of his time in Nashville, Kraski quips, "Yeah, I'm a yinzer." He gets back to Pittsburgh for all of the Steeler home games, he says, and while he admits to being obsessed with the music business, being a lifelong Steelers fan "is a sickness."