A few weeks ago, I gave a shout out to the musical community of Nashville, having been reminded of that city’s vitality as a music center during a recent business trip. A few weeks ago, I hit the road again to visit a town that, at the moment, burns a few degrees hotter even than Nashville:
Atlanta.
Detroit and Motown in the mid-Sixties; Philadelphia in the Seventies; Seattle in the Eighties– that’s where Atlanta is right now. In many ways, it’s the epicenter of pop and urban music in America, with producers and writers like Dream, Sean Garrett, Bryan Michael Cox, and Dallas Austin, along with artists like Cee-Lo, Outkast, Shop Boyz, and Usher dominating the charts. All that success has created a must-go destination for artists seeking that magic production touch, A&R weasels looking for that breakthrough hit song, or publishers searching for the latest up and coming hitmakers. On top of the thriving urban/pop scene, there’s an active rock scene, with artists like the Whigs, as well as a healthy and thriving singer/songwriter world. Having made my way down to the ATL to check out a new songwriter/producer, I soon found myself in the middle of a musical community that is a model for how to build a modern music center.
In Atlanta, the artistic and production community live and work next to each other– everyone has a studio complex where musicians, writers, artists, and managers constantly intermingle. While most people work within a small camp of writers and producers, often associated with a specific company, everyone mixes and matches. They trade ideas, they work on the same projects, they share engineers and musicians, and they compete openly but without malice. Most importantly, they have a solid group of executives, artist managers, studio managers, lawyers and publishers that support the creative people and help to build bridges to other music centers in NY and LA. The moral to this heartwarming story: People need People.
No man is an island. If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a whole town to build a business. Ask any neighborhood barbecue shop– if you want to be in business, you have to be part of the community.
Probably because we spent too many of our formative years locked away in solitude– listening to records, practicing our instrument or writing heartbreaking poems of love and longing– most musicians tend to be loners. The message from music centers like Atlanta and Nashville is clear: it’s time to become a team player. Your team is the musical community around you: other musicians, writers, artists, publishers, press, fans, radio programmers, independent film-makers, and anyone else who shares a similar direction. This has been a constant theme in the development of American music, from the Memphis rockabilly community that spawned rock ‘n’ roll to the Brill Building in NY, to the rise of West Coast rap. Artists, writers and companies do not develop in isolation. They grow in clusters, supporting and learning from each other.
Of course, everyone is competing with one another as well. That would be hard to miss in either Nashville or Atlanta. Everyone is working on the same projects, chasing the same cuts, and cultivating the same contacts. This is what businesses do– they compete without apology. This is also the benefit of being part of the community– competition invariably makes everyone raise the level of their game. Lack of competition gives you Amtrak and your cable company.
As you try to build your publishing business, it’s essential to start creating not just a company, but a community around you. Hitco Music was one of the early players in Atlanta urban music, and they continue to thrive amidst the scene that they built. No matter where you are, there are likely other people trying to launch similar creative ventures. It’s up to you to find them, and then figure out ways you can work together. By sharing information and knowledge, you’ll start to build something bigger than yourself– and that’s when a musical community starts to take shape. The business pay-off is big– but the personal pay-off is equally big. You just might make some friends along the way. You might also change the lives of the local aspiring artists that come after you.
Here’s an idea: get together four or five local songwriters and just throw a little party. Play some songs for each other– solicit some feedback, criticism or ideas. Find out who is doing what, and what the shared challenges are. Find out who knows who. If you have a good time, try doing it once a month. This is what was happening in NY when I arrived as an aspiring songwriter, too many years ago. That little group of 8-10 people spawned at least five people still active and successful in the industry today. It made me at least four or five friends for life. That’s not a bad investment for a Thursday night.
Maybe it’s time for a little community service.
