J Michaels Music

Imagine for a moment that you have a dream.  Many, if not most people do.  Sadly, many never pursue their dreams for a myriad of reasons – fear, practicality, or procrastination usually top the list.  One day turns into two, turns into ten years since some have even thought about the dreams they once had.  Now, imagine for a moment that you were one of the few that did indeed pursue your dream.  You stayed laser focused throughout the years, making sacrifices, to some degree, in every other aspect of your life, taking unfulfilling and sometimes menial jobs just to “get by for now.” All the while everyone in your life is telling you to get a real job, go back to school, you need to grow up, or a thousand other belittling statements of judgment.  But you remained steadfast, through let-downs, heartbreak, and watching success seemingly come easily to some while you constantly struggle.  

Now imagine that you’re a songwriter.  You spend every available waking moment, which turns into years, dedicating yourself to improving your craft, writing and rewriting, laboring over every word and every line, discovering what works, and equally as important what doesn’t, and playing every dive bar that will have you.  Every weekend, and some weeknights, you load two thousand dollars worth of equipment (that’s on your credit card you pay the minimum on each month) into a $600 car that burns $30 in oil each week, with four bald tires and nonexistent brakes, on $4/gallon gas, to drive two hours to a gig with 14 people in the audience that pays you $50, and maybe a free pizza.  

With excitement and a smile you hit the road. The 14 people couldn’t care less that you’re there and often shoot a glare of irritation in your direction because you’re too loud, so the tip jar remains barren, but for a few quarters.  You get home between 2-3 a.m., unpack all your gear, and then realize, I have to be at my crappy job in four hours.  The next morning reality sets in and you realize that you spent $40 in gas, $10 in oil, and 6 hours of your life to be net neutral for the night.  If it weren’t for the free pizza, and you have to buy food, net negative.  Week after month after year the Earth spins on, all the while you’re continually listening to the haters, naysayers, and judgers who love to interject themselves and their opinions into your life.  Side note: That afternoon you had to once again “borrow” $200 more from your mom for rent, without her telling your dad.   

Then one day, the sea parts, the clouds open up, and a beautiful ray of sunshine and hope shines down on you.  You have, after years of quietly toiling away, written a great song.  The few people that actually listen to it, the same people who have been criticizing you for years, with a surprised look on their faces, raise an eyebrow and reluctantly admit that it’s a great song.  

Now what do I do you ask yourself.  How do I make any money with my creation?  It seems like it should be so easy.  You finally have a great song.  Shouldn’t I just be able to walk into, or call, a record label and have one of the powers-to-be listen to it and get it to an artist.  If only!  What immediately and painfully becomes clear is that writing the song is only the beginning of your journey.  The real work has only just begun.  

You know very little about the business side of the music industry, but you do know that you need a demo.  Nearly every city in America has someone who has a studio, but quality and prices vary monumentally.  If you’re not a musician or singer, the price will drastically increase because you have to hire musicians, a singer, and an engineer, plus the studio time.  You do understand that you don’t get a second chance to make a first impression so you want your demo to sound the best it can.  It’s not unusual for even a “decent” demo to easily top a thousand dollars.  A great demo with professional players – easily $3k…… per song - a number that seems impossible, so back to mom.  To soften the blow you promise to her, “this is the one.”

The demo is done and despite a few things you’d like to redo it’s passable.  So now, who do I give it to?  Who will listen?  Who can help?  Phone call after phone call remain unanswered.  Message after message remain unreturned.  Email after email remain unanswered.  This is all provided you can even get a phone number or an email address for anyone who can help at all. You lose hope, then regain it, sometimes hour to hour.  You stop writing, thinking, what’s the use.  Then, out of the blue the muses are kind (or evil) enough to send you another idea, and you start writing again. You feel like you’re sitting on a winning lottery ticket with no possible way to cash it in.  Holding onto your dream, for which you’ve sacrificed everything, becomes an exhausting job in and of itself.  Months, sometimes years pass by stuck in this limbo hell. 

Then one day, the sea again parts, the clouds once again open up, and a beautiful ray of sunshine and hope shines down on you.  The phone rings and it’s a person (of the hundreds you’ve called) who is willing to listen to “your stuff.” From utter despair to immediate elation you think, this is it! I’m finally going to get a song cut.  You instantly feel validation.  You can’t wait to tell all of the life critics that you are now a professional songwriter and that a big artist is going to put it on their next album.  Your song is going to be on the RADIO!  You’re going to be able to pay back your mom and everyone else you’ve borrowed money from the last umpteenth years.  Your dad still thinks you should get a real job. 

“What is the link to your website?” asks the record man.  Um, I don’t have one (strike one). 

“How many followers do you have on social media?” Um, I don’t have any social media pages (strike two and possibly three).  

After reading his tone you quickly interject, but I have a demo.  

[Reluctantly and with obvious irritation] – “Send it to this email address and we’ll let you know” 

OK, thank you.  

Weeks pass, sometimes months, and nada.  Then finally the email comes and you think, this is it.  I’ve done it. 

It reads: 

“Dear songwriter, thank you for your submission but we are going to pass at this time.  Good luck in the future.”  

Wait, WHAAATTT?  That’s it?  

A new level of despair washes over you.  You spend your last 15 borrowed dollars on Pabst Blue Ribbon, while contemplating how much you can get for all your music equipment.  No wait, none of it is paid for and worth less than I owe on it.  Maybe you can sell your futon bed and some blood plasma and get enough for a bus ticket home.   

But once again, somehow you find the fortitude to continue.  Call after call, email after email, opportunity after opportunity, label after label, all end the same way.  

After years of floundering, and ten thousand “passes” and “not at this times” you actually get a cut.  After losing half, or all of the publishing rights you finally can make at least some money.  An artist cuts it, but it’s not a radio single.  It’s an album or streaming release and gets put on streaming services like Spotify, et al.  You find out through analytics that it’s been played a million times, and you eagerly anticipate your first royalty check, thinking, I can pay back mama, buy a new car, house, and rub it in the faces of all the naysayers…..FINALLY! You check the mailbox everyday, sometimes twice, and after waiting what seems like an eternity, the check finally arrives.  For 1 million spins on Spotify.  $575.  

All you remember is the world going black.  The neighbors apparently found you in the driveway and you wake up in the back of an ambulance. A bill, by the way, that will cost 10 times as much as you made on your song because you could never afford insurance.   

So, in brief, $2 to download my song that you will then own forever is a pretty good deal.  If you like it please share the link.  If you don’t, that’s ok too, but always remember “A Songwriter’s Life”.  

Thanks for taking the time to stop by, 

- J Michaels