Free-Loaders

A story for downloaders of “free” music on the Internet.

By Bob Regan ’72

1969, Lehigh Drive, Davis. I was over-caffeinated and under-motivated, studying for finals. By dawn I had an OK handle on my abnormal psych material, but I had really nailed the guitar intro and the solo to Albert King’s “Crosscut Saw.” Little did I know at age 20 that I was cramming for a test in the music business that would span three and a half decades.

1979, Sacramento. I had spent the seven years since graduation playing clubs, frat parties and concerts for starvation wages. I was learning to write and perform my own songs by trial and error, mostly the latter. Our band had attracted the interest of a major label in L.A. so we knew our big break was just around the corner.

1983, Los Angeles. My band of best friends had broken up three years before, and I had moved south with a vow to never set foot in a nightclub again. I worked as a house painter by day and wrote songs in my bedroom at night.

Then the unbelievable happened: I got a record deal on a major label. After two years of negotiating, recording and hoping, I had my first single released. The next release was . . . me. I hadn’t made the charts or earned a single dollar in advances or royalties. To make things worse, I was back in the clubs playing cover songs for $50 a night—at age 35. My old friends and classmates were well into their six-figure careers.

1985, Nashville, Tenn. I gave up my performing artist aspirations, bet it all on my songwriting and moved cold to music row. After four years as a $150- to $200-a-week staff writer for a large publishing company and (still) a club and studio musician, I got the validation I had been working and praying for—a hit single. The week it made the top 10, my wife of 14 years asked for a divorce. We split the 40K (before taxes) that the song had earned, and I pressed on, now 41 years old. I kept my kids half the time, got a gig on the Grand Ole Opry, played guitar on recording sessions and kept trying to become a better writer.

2000, Brentwood, Tenn. I had a good run in the ’90s with several more hits and a decent income for the first time in my 51 years (although I did pay 39 percent income tax plus 15 percent FICA on the first 70K or so because I was self-employed).

I put money down on a house and was able to start saving for my kids’ college and my own retirement. I quit the Opry and the studios and had weekends off for the first time since 1972.

2004, Brentwood, Tenn. The business has turned south and is trying to take me with it. Illegal downloading has cut CD sales by 25 percent to 30 percent over the last three years, and radio consolidation has cut the number of singles played in half. My royalties last year were down by a third, then another third this year. My income is back to where it was 10 years ago and falling.
Behind every “free” song on the Internet is a story like mine. It might be different in the details, but every artist, musician, songwriter, background singer, engineer, producer, etc., has devoted a lifetime of work, love and commitment to bring that song to life. You steal it because you can—with the click of a mouse.

I would imagine that, if you have read this far, a lot of you are now busy rationalizing and justifying: Music is a corrupt business, filled with greedy corporate moguls and filthy rich artists. In order to effectively blame the victim, it is usually necessary to first vilify him.

Are there overpaid people in this or any other industry? You bet. But bear in mind that these fortunate few are supported by hundreds of thousands who got into this business for all the right reasons. We are the ones who can least withstand the downturn in the business that your music “sharing” has brought about. Just wondering: Doesn’t “sharing” imply that those involved have ownership of the shared item?

Is much of the product released by the major record labels disposable and of little artistic merit? Absolutely. This is, after all, the entertainment business. I would, however, point out that the 50 most downloaded songs of last year, as reported by Newsweek, were all by major label acts, beginning with Eminem and ending with the Red Hot Chili Peppers (yes, Britney and J-Lo are in there, too). It would seem that the downloading of billions of songs is not due to dissatisfaction with the product but with the reluctance to pay for it.

Do CDs cost too much? Compared to free, absolutely. I am a songwriter, not an apologist for the record labels, but consider that over the last 20 years the consumer price index has risen 77 percent, far more than the price increases for recorded music. Also, during that time the number of songs on a CD has gone from an average of 10 to an average of 14. Has the price of other forms of entertainment gone up lately? Movies, concerts, cable TV, sporting events? You tell me.

I would also point out that my compensation as a writer is dictated by copyright law. Each song on a CD receives 8 cents per copy sold regardless of the list price. If I have a co-writer and a publisher, as the majority of us do, I gross 2 cents per copy. If I am lucky enough to get a song on a platinum album, I gross 20K, paid over period of years. Performers who champion the free distribution of material on the Internet do so because, unlike writers, they can charge for live performances and then sell you a T-shirt and a beer cozy. Would they encourage you to illegally download concert tickets and concession items if those were available in digital form? Next time you go backstage, ask them.

Does downloading allow lesser-known bands to reach a large audience without the help of the entertainment cartels? Maybe. Refer to the above Newsweek statistic. Afficionados might actively search the thousands of unknown acts on the Net for the few gems, but the rest of us listen to the radio. Due largely to media deregulation in the ’90s, it can cost labels hundreds of thousands of dollars in promotion to break a new act (same amount to see them fail) on the radio. In my time in the music business I have seen countless adventurous, original-sounding acts given a shot. The large majority of acts signed do not succeed. This is an inherently unfair business.

I don’t suppose I have changed anyone’s mind, but at least I have had the opportunity to unburden mine.

I hope that whatever career path you follow after your time at UC Davis doesn’t lead you to a place where tens of millions of people feel it is their right to help themselves free of charge to the fruits of your labor. For those of you considering a career in the music industry now, I doubt you will have it as easy as I did.

Bob Regan ’72 is president of the Nashville Songwriters Association International, www.nashvillesongwriters.com.