I'm thinking... who needs a record company?

I've hinted recently of an agreement that I might be signing with a record company, and I want to clarify something: this agreement is not a "deal" in the classic sense. It's the opposite, really, because rather than offering me something, it prevents me from getting something. But forget all that for a moment. The real question is this: why does anyone need a record company?

The answer used to be simple: manufacturing and distribution. Back in the days of physical media, if you wanted to have any hope of selling a significant number of albums, you had to make and distribute a significant number of albums. Really, there was no way around it. And the only companies set up to do this were record companies. No more. Today, no one needs a record company. Oh, sure, they're nice to have, but you don't need one. With online distribution, you can make 0 copies and sell one million.

So what are record companies still good for? Promotion, of which manufacturing and distribution are certainly a part, because every physical CD out there is, in essence. an ad for the band/musicians on it. But barriers to promotion are a lot easier to overcome than barriers to manufacturing and distribution. And -- to bring this post back around to where it began -- while I would like to have a record company backing me, if I have to go it alone, I think I still have a chance. As of now, I own my copyrights, my publishing and my masters, and I can probably make 10 times the profit per album that I could make going through a record company, assuming, of course, I can make any sales at all! So, watch this space, as I look for ways to figure out how to sell 1000 songs (downloads) in the next year. There, I've said it, that's my goal. Not very lofty, I know, but wait till you hear my goal for next year!

Mad for Madison.

I love this town! First and foremost, the summer weather is true summer weather. Warm days, warm evenings, not much wind. What a contrast from my home town of SF, where sitting outside to, say, read a paper, is just asking for a brain aneurysm, because the constant WIND makes it impossible to read anything but an electronic gizmo, and you will get so frustrated by pages flipping into your face that a blood vessel in your brain will burst and you will die (only a slight exaggeration).

Madison also sports not one, but two, nice lakes. In fact, the main town is located on an isthmus between the lakes, so if, like me, you are staying at, the majestic DoubleTree, which is darn near the center of the isthmus, you can walk to a lake shore of your choice in mere minutes. Nice.

Another appealing thing about Madison is the architecture; everywhere you look there are gorgeous old houses with porches and balconies (and not just for decoration, mind you; because of the aforementioned nice weather, you can actually enjoy your outdoor space).

But not all is perfect. Dining has been iffy. My first night, Sunday, I trekked off to Essen Haus, a German eatery of some renown, and ordered schweine haxen, imaging that a plate would soon appear before me filled with a falling-off-the-bone tender pork shank, coated in a crispy layer of layered fat awaiting my fork. No such luck. The pork was dry and tough around the edges, and the skin looked like ham: pink, smooth, not crunchy at at all. Underneath the pork was some decent saurkraut, but it could not begin to make up for the main dish's lack of satisfyingly meaty fatty crunchy moistness that I so loved when I would order shweine haxsen from Haxenbauer in Munich.

My dinining experience on Sunday was a little better, but not by much, save for the company, which was awesome. My aunt Jean and her husband Bob took me to Tutto Pasta, and catching up with them was a lot of fun. They drove 3 hours to see me! How cool.

Tonight, I might go to Harvest, which was recommended to me by foodie extraordinair and fellow blogger Fatehma (click here to visit her food blog), but I'm hesitant, because the looks a little fancy for a single diner. We'll see.

For my morning coffee, I've found the modern day McDonald's -- Starbucks -- but I am determined to find a more local java joint. I have a bead on place near Starbucks, and I'm going to check it out today for lunch.

Really wish I could talk about my med stuff I'm doing here, but the instructions were clear: no blogging about what you experience. Sigh.

Live from Madison, Wisconsin, it's... me.

Many moons back, I posted that I might be heading out to Madison, Wisconsin for some brain stuff. Well, I am writing from Madison at this very moment! Sadly, I can't comment the study I'm taking part in, so I'll have to simply post about other stuff: Madison, writing songs in new places, how Starbucks is the new McDonald's, etc.

Expect a proper post tomorrow, since tonight I'm a bit tired from my first day at the lab and an unexpectedly long walk.

Note: the ducks are paddling through Lake Mendota, the larger of Madison's two lakes. See all that algae? Heavy rains mean heavy runoff, and heavy runoff means dead zones. Lovely, no?

Aftermath: My laywer visit.

On Wednesday, I drove across the Golden Gate to meet with an entertainment attorney, who was fabulous but who delivered some tough news.

Briefly, my agenda was to talk about copyright, publishing and an agreement I've been asked to sign by a local record company (not a contract!).

First, up, copyright. As of very recently you can now visit http://www.copyright.gov and access a single form for all of your copyright needs. In the past there were two forms, but this new one combines everything into a single doc, which you can fill out and submit online. Pretty cool, YOU NEED ADOBE READER 9. It's free, so it's no big deal.

For singer/songwriter types, there are two kinds of copyright you need to worry about: Performance and Sound Recording.

If you write songs, you want the performance copyright, which is a little confusing. Essentially, though, it protects your right to determine who can perform your song. Utterly unenforceable, to be sure, but when it matters -- say when GM wants to hire someone to sing your song -- you're protected.

The other copyright protects your recording. Say you do the end-all-be-all cover of Yesterday. Well, this copyright ensures that anyone who wants to use your recorded version has to get your permission. Naturally, this copyright can also protect a recorded version of your own song, which, according to my lawyer, is not a bad idea.

Next, publishing. Um, we didn't get to this really, except to note that my sole proprietorship of a publishing company is legit and a good idea.

Finally, and this is the bad news, the agreement I was asked to sign. I'm not going to say who the company is or what it's about, but suffice it to say, what the company wanted me to sign was not viewed as fair or even necessary by the entertainment attorney I met with. This is crushing, but not unexpected. So me being me -- he of thin skin -- fired off an email to the record company, and the email wasn't as professional as it could have been. I apologized right after sending it, but still, I feel like a dope. I want so much for something to work out, that I think I let my emotions get the better of me. Also, I was very busy with my other life -- a marketing writer -- all week, and perhaps I just didn't allow for enough time for me to write a proper note to the record company. I'll try again soon. Lesson learned: always be nice!

I'm a goddamned moron.

Earlier tonight, my friend Toby emailed me saying he was confused about my recent post regarding the SF Chronicle's review of Lark Gayl's CD, Two Hands. Toby pointed out the the album was reviewed YESTERDAY and today's piece was just a homage to a fine, new songwriter.

Toby -- as usual -- is right.

Goddamn, I feel like a Neocon Republican: stupid as hell... wait... I KNOW I'm stupid. Your average Neocon Republican thinks he's a genius.

S---t.

Anyway, none of this incompetence matters.

Larkin Gayl's new CD is a fine thing and if you disagree, well, you're a dope, smarter than a Pet Rock, yes, but not by much.

So, without further adieu (!), here is a link to the SF Chron's note about Larkin Gayl's new CD. Quick note: the reviewer must be part Pet Rock, because of the way he criticizes "I Do".