I'm writing this (or at least starting to write) while at about 38,000 feet, heading home to Phoenix after another weekend of family music immersion at Kindiefest, the annual gathering of family musicians, radio folks, writers, and others. I spent a fair amount of time this weekend trying to think about if there was an overarching theme to this year's conference. What is the big picture? Last year, if you'll remember, it was about owning your [stuff], the year before it was about... well, a bunch of stuff.
And this year? There were always the random phrases people uttered during the weekend. In the entertaining discussion on using social media, Ashley Albert from the Jimmies mentioned how one children's media property allowed users to create avatars of themselves as potatoes, and I immediately wrote "potato avatar" as the name of a kids album or kids band, I'm not sure which. Daron Henry mentioned how Recess Monkey had at some point become a "jobby," a combination of job and hobby that captures, I think, the weird position of some kids music artists, for which this artistic endeavor has become something considerably more than a hobby, but maybe hasn't quite reached the point of full-time work. Yet.
Kindiefest co-founder Bill Childs tagged "authenticity" as the word for the weekend. I won't deny that that notion surfaced throughout the weekend, especially in the musical performances. (More on those tomorrow.)
But I'm going to call the word of Kindiefest 2011 "community." It wasn't a buzzword that rolled off everyone's lips immediately -- well, except maybe in my panel -- and it's not the word itself that I'm choosing. It was some that happened constantly. At least four or five times during the conference, somebody said to me (or I thought to myself), "I want to -- or I've been told that I need to -- meet [someone else]." And then I'd take it upon myself to find that person, and drag them (and you think I'm exaggerating, but it's not too far from the truth) to that other person.
That community could be found in the many after-parties post-conference events, where some folks did the small-level relationship building that long-term associations are built upon. Sometimes that involved serious discussions on how band finances really work or trading touring war stories or fond memories, and sometimes that involved making really bad (and/or off-color) jokes.
And probably most significantly, community was found in the showcases and public festival, where again this year many musicians were the most enthusiastic listeners. It was heartening to see the large contingent of kindie musicians on one side of the stage singing or clapping along loudly, for example, during Elizabeth Mitchell's set. Or when during the showcase from Shine and the Moonbeams -- and, goodness, you will be hearing much more about them -- the little boy on stage got a little stage fright and didn't want to dance, Tim Kubart and Ann Torralba got up and danced away. That's not even mentioning all the different folks who sat in on others' sets.
With Messianic Fervor
I would make for a lousy missionary.
Talking to people one at a time, trying to convince them right then and there in the correctness of my position is not my strength -- proselytizing makes me blanch. I would rather spend time day after day, week after week, year after year, offering facts and sharing opinions, not to mention listening to others. If others come to my point of view, great. If not, it's not worth ramming my head into a wall repeatedly. And maybe I'll have my own mind changed.
My approach to kids music has been pretty much the same. I'm happy writing my opinions on my website and argue them with some vigor, but get me one-on-one with somebody about kids music, and I'm, like, "Uh, I kinda like Elizabeth Mitchell."
I know.
I should be a little more forceful (and, OK, that quote above's an exaggeration) but it's not an exaggeration to say that the person who talks most about Zooglobble locally isn't me -- it's one of my friends who's constantly asking for my business cards and giving them to people she meets.
So it was with some amusement that I read an article about Rani Arbo and her career with her band Daisy Mayhem. Her career navigates both the folk and kids music camps...
Rani Arbo is one of Middletown's biggest exports — hell, it wouldn't be a stretch to call her one of Connecticut's, considering her band's rigorous touring across the nation. She and Daisy Mayhem have the rare luxury of fitting into two niche markets, whereas most bands are lucky to fit into one. Since they use acoustic instruments (including drummer Scott Kessel's all-recycled kit — he uses cat food tins and a suitcase for a kick drum), they fit in handsomely with the folk, bluegrass and roots music circuit. And their versatility with both adult and children's songbooks allows them to tap into the kids' music fanbase, who Arbo (vocals/violin) describes as “messianic about things they like.”Uh-oh - she's got us.
What Are You Worth?
Maybe the weather was particularly bad throughout much of the country Saturday, because what started as a humorous Facebook comment from Out With the Kids' Jeff Bogle turned into a full-on thrashing of music award sites, both by Jeff and others in the family music business.
[Note: I've edited this post with some additional comments, noted in italics.]
Now, the weather in Phoenix was lovely on Saturday, and we were tired from hosting a large party the night before, so we spent a lot of time being lazy or being outside. Not, in other words, in front of computer. But I thought I'd add my two cents' worth to the debate.
The first thought I had was, "this isn't new." If you read through the Facebook comments, you'll see more than one person reference always-good-for-a-money-quote Kathy O'Connell, who at the 2009 edition of Kindiefest called programs that give awards out to good CDs, "sticker scams," based on the fact that winning CDs receive (or get to buy) rolls of stickers that the artists can put on their CDs. But unease in the kindie world predates Kathy's two-word distillation. Nearly three years ago, I discussed these types of awards, programs such as the Parents' Choice Awards, who currently charge $250 for an audio entry (not to mention fees for use of the seal and their stickers). I didn't take a strong view one way or another other than to say such awards are useless to folks like myself who've heard just about everything they'd be considering. My purpose in publishing the post was more to solicit opinions from musicians and others on the value of such awards. People willing to respond had a more negative view of the process, but that could be just as much due to people's tendency to complain rather than to comment, "yeah, it seems fine to me." I would also note that even I wasn't the first -- Amy Davis tackled the issue way more than four years ago.
Kindiefest 2010: Own Your [Stuff]
I've launched into a series of posts focusing on the individual artists who showcased at the 2010 edition of Kindiefest, but I thought a few words about what I took away from the conference would be appropriate before getting too far down that path.
If the thread running through last year's conference was that of community, the thread running through this year's conference was that of hard work and committing to the craft of making music for kids and families.
Or, to put it another way, committing to owning your stuff.
Except when we (or at least I) talked about it this weekend, we used an earthier word in place of (but close to) "stuff" that I don't feel comfortable using on the intrawebs. And we (or at least I) used that phrase a lot.
Danny and Sarah and Nori from The Not-Its walking around in their band trademark black and pink outfits? Owning their stuff. Recess Monkey putting together sweet little videos on the cheap? Owning their stuff. Justin Roberts playing a set so awesome that at least a couple other performing artists said that it inspired them to improve their own game and making at least one audience member literally cry? Completely and totally owning his stuff.
As I suggest above, that commitment requires time and attention to detail. The panels this year were, with the exception of my Old School Meets New School panel, technically oriented. And what I saw of the panels suggested that people can't do this lackadaiscally. The panel on videos moderated by Michael Rachap of Readeez brought to life the truism that when it comes to making videos good, fast, and cheap, you can only pick two of them (and nobody suggested dropping "good"). Though I didn't see all of the production panel, what I heard suggested that the producer wasn't necessarily going to make your life easier. Better, hopefully, but you'd be working even harder.
And the distribution panel might have been the biggest cold water splash of them all. Veronica Villarreal from E1 Music said that only 500 of 4,300 Walmarts carry music, of which most of it is TV-based. The Walmarts and Targets of the world are look for you to sell 400-500 CDs per week. Kevin Salem from Little Monster Records was again one of the most quotable folks around, pointing out that the question isn't just (from the artist to the distributor), "What are you doing to get my record into stores?," but also (from the distributor to the artist), "What are you doing to get your record out of the stores?" Said Salem in that regard, "Nothing is as powerful as doing a great show, even if it's for 10 people." In other words, you've got to take your career -- even if it's a part-time one seriously. You have to, yes, own that stuff. (Just like Cathy Fink did in giving her initial comments for the panel while accompanying herself on an electric guitar-styled ukulele.)
My own panel on "Old School Meets New School" was fun, but I'm a poor judge of that, I suppose. It was the only panel that wasn't specifically designed to be nuts-and-bolts. Instead, I viewed it mostly as an opportunity for the more experienced hands on the panel to a) reassure newer folks that this was a valuable path to travel, but b) it wasn't going to be easy. Bill Harley still sets aside an hour a day to write new stuff. That's commitment to the creative side.
Sustaining this Kids New Wave is going to take a lot of hard work and effort. You don't have to do it full time. But whatever time you give to the genre, you're gonna need to give it your full attention. If you don't own your stuff, nobody's going to do it for you.
More thoughts after the jump...
Kids Music and Beer
Last week there was an article about a growth spurt in microbreweries in the Phoenix area. I took an interest in the article because, well, I like beer and one of the (not-new-at-all) microbreweries is within walking distance of my house. (Think globally, drink locally.)
But the article illustrated a number of principles that also applies to the kids music genre. So indulge me if you will...
1. Kids music genre still needs to educate a perhaps skeptical public. They're so amazed," says one microbrewery owner of the quality inherent in the product. Nobody has to explain why there's literature for kids, but music for kids? I would guess that regular readers of this site (families, artists, or others) have often been in the situation of having to say something like, "No, there's some really good kids music out there crafted with care."
2. Don't alienate your potential customers by slamming their taste.
[There] are beer lovers who find the microbreweries' offerings too aggressive or bitter. "I get that a lot," said Matt Mercer, the brewer at Old World Brewery in north Phoenix. Customers tell him his beers have too much flavor or are too strong. "If you're used to drinking water," he said, "I guess so."Or the guy who says he's tempted to give a customer a glass of water if they ask for a Budweiser or something that tastes like a Bud. Argh. I understand that you think you have a better product. But insult the audience at your peril. Remember, your audience is the exception, not the rule. The rule's a lot bigger. Much better is the attitude of the brewer who, instead of getting mad when someone orders a Bud, serves a sample of his own beer alongside the Bud. I'm not suggesting kids musicians should be working songs from High School Musical into their acts. But an appreciation of why (for reasons good and not-so-good) those mass-market acts are, well, mass-market (i.e., popular) is a good thing to keep in mind. 3. Your competition is your friend. Obviously, music has always been a little less competitive than other industries as nominally competitive artists constantly collaborate on songs and albums. This is something the craft brewers have taken to heart:
Only about 25 percent of beer drinkers drink craft beer, said Hoffman, of Dave's Electric. That leaves an untapped market of drinkers to pry away from their Millers and Coors. "We're trying to get a piece of that much larger pie," he said, "and not necessarily a piece of each other's pie."Amen to that. I've seen RIAA figures that suggested that only about 3% of music sales are for kids music. And I'm sure that the number of parents who've bought an album remotely considered "kindie" is probably similar. Seems like there's some potential for growth there. Hence the frustration with folks who promote their new kids album along the lines of, "Finally, a kids music album parents can enjoy!" There are so many reasons that's just wrong, wrong, wrong. But beyond that, musicians should be popping up on everyone else's album. There's been some of that, but much more can be done. Kids musicians should be sharing concert bills, swapping booking tips, giving advice (and generally using sites like this one), because the genre's nowhere near a zero-sum point. One artist's success is, to some extent, a small success for other artists. A large crowd for a big-name artist opens doors for artists without as much name recognition. 4. Keep doing what you're doing. Finally, what I like about the folks interviewed is that none of them have suggested that they've tweaked what they've done to appeal to a mass audience. They know that they're not going to have the mass appeal of the Budweisers of the world, and they're OK with that. That's one of the things I appreciate the most about the kids music genre right now. There are so many folks trying so many different things and people are comfortable writing and performing music that might not have been heard fifteen or twenty years ago. Oh, sure, there are still the pioneers who are either still going or whose albums have faded from view. But the sheer number of the musical approaches is so much greater now. Worldwide fame is going to be mostly elusive in these turbulent times for the music business. But a decent living making music for families is available to a lot of talented musicians... if they work together on it.
Dan Zanes Makes Wal-Mart Smile... Do You? (Updated)
Updated: I've now seen the Dan Zanes/Wal-Mart/Coke ad -- comments below...
So, Bill noted yesterday that he'd heard about a Wal-Mart ad featuring none other than Dan Zanes' "Hello, Hello." Yes, that Dan Zanes, who I think the world of and just a couple years (before the bottom fell out of the real estate market) was fighting the Atlantic Yards development in Brooklyn.
I haven't seen the ad (it purportedly features both Wal-Mart and Coke -- how's that for combining congolmerates), but I can understand why it would give folks pause. Without seeing the ad, there's no way of knowing in what context it's used, but certainly Dan Zanes has been very pro-community and Wal-Mart -- well, let's just say the jury is clearly not resolved on Wal-Mart's benefit to the community.
The only piece of information I can add is that according to this post, Zanes has lent a song of his for use by Wal-Mart in their stores over a year ago (at least as early as February 2008), albeit "Smile Smile Smile." Is there a difference between that and a TV ad? Probably just depends on what the ad says.
As for Zanes himself, he's never been shy about affiliating himself with bigger corporations to get his message across -- his latest DVD, the one with a number of songs from his all-Spanish album, is being distributed by Razor & Tie. Oh, and there's the Disney music show pilot. And plenty of other stuff. And Zanes seems more acutely aware of his image amongst his fans than almost any other kids' artist. I've got to believe he thought through the implications of his choice a fair bit.
But it still doesn't mean there won't be some questions...
Update: As we watch TV rarely, and commercial TV even more rarely, I didn't expect to actually see the ad in question, but today I did, albeit in a most surprising place -- at the movie theatre. In the series of ads/promos/wastes of time they now show before the movie previews was none other than the ad. It is a very Dan Zanes-ian ad, albeit one that posits Coke and (to a lesser extent) Wal-Mart as the solution needed for community. One kid (or maybe it's multiple folks) deliver Cokes (from a Wal-Mart bag) to neighbors, placed on top of napkins with the name of a park and "3:30" written on it. Sure enough, everybody shows up at the park at the appointed time, puts their napkins on the ground, at which point it turns into a picnic blanket. Yeah, it got a little weird there at the end. Zanes makes no appearance...
I couldn't tell if the song was the version off of Rocket Ship Beach, off his Hello Hello book/CD combo, or something else. Not that it really matters, but since it was really just about 29 seconds of music (pretty much from the start of the song), it probably wouldn't have made much difference
So anyway, in its celebration of community, the ad was definitely Zanes-ian, as I said. It probably doesn't alleviate much of the initial cognitive dissonance noted here and elsewhere by Zanes' participation, but it doesn't make it worse, either -- it's not like DZ was strolling through the aisles of Wal-Mart drinking Coke a la Mean Joe Greene.
And that's probably all I'm gonna say 'bout this...