Artistic ownership. Not servitude.

The Habit of Surrender

Last Friday, I spoke to a well-known Grammy winning jazz musician about the website I built for him a couple years back. His new album is coming out, and he wants to make a few changes to his site accordingly.

He's become a friend, and I want to help him make the most from his web presence, so I asked, "Can we sell this album on your site? Will the record label object?" His response was immediate and made my question sound naive. "No way!", he quickly responded.

This was yet another conversaion with a famous jazz musician who has very little power and ownership over the product of his work. It reminds me of the many conversations I had with Richie Beirach about his lack of ownership of his music, and there he was at the end of his life needing crowdfunding for medical expenses before passing away.

Richie recorded over 400 albums, many of which became well-known showcases for himself, Jack DeJohnette, Lieb, Randy and Michael Brecker, and others. And yet, he could claim ownership of none of it with almost no monetary reward to speak of in later life.

I should learn by now not to ask, "Can we sell your album on your site?" I asked that last year of another well-known and prolific jazz player. He had albums that were discontinued from the label's catalog, and even then, he was prohibited from selling them. I asked about his contract with the label, which he had lost. When I suggested he reach out to the label for a copy of his contract, he never even heard back from them.

A Culture of Powerlessness

These stories are not unique, and they reveal how little agency jazz players have over the work they create and the income it generates.

I blame two things: 1. the legacy model of label ownership over recorded music, and 2. the unquestioned acceptance of this state of affairs by musicians.

I'm aware of the capital required to produce an album and therefore, the leverage enjoyed by the label. The studio time, paying the musicians, the album production, and marketing. For most jazz musicians, those expenses are not easily paid out of their own pockets.

So maybe start with negotiating better terms. Don’t automatically accept the claim that shared ownership is out of the question. "This is the standard contract. Take it or leave it." I say, leave it and find someone willing to offer better terms.

Think about how Rocky got made. A broke, unknown Sylvester Stallone wrote the script and then refused to sell it unless he was allowed to play the lead, turning down bigger offers that wanted a “real star” in his place. He finally found a studio willing to say yes, and that stubborn insistence on owning the role created a franchise that defined his career.

Instead of digging in their heels the way Stallone did, too many musicians hand over their masters and their future without a fight.

A Different Approach

My good friend and bass trombonist Gerry Pagano has taken an ownership approach. Through the years, Gerry has recorded a string of self- and crowd-funded albums and books from which he retains 100% ownership.Most recently, he published a book of trombone duets called Enchantment. (Check them out!)

Five years ago when Richie Beirach and I wrote our first book, A Framework for Jazz Mastery, Richie felt an obligation to give his current publisher right of first refusal to publish the book. Anticipating the outcome of that conversation, I let it play out. The publisher’s agreement offered an 8% royalty paid every six months and exclusive ownership of the book. They would also have exclusive say over our marketing and promotion of the book.

I wrote her back, politely declining the offer, to which she responded with something akin to, "How dare you. Don't you know who I am? This is standard in the industry." We retained ownership and Richie and I made much more than we would have had we accepted the publisher's deal.

The Mindset Shift

I've spent much of my non-musical life creating financial deals worth tens of millions of dollars, so yeah, this idea of negotiating seems pretty simple and fundamental. But it seems so foreign to jazz players. I am focusing on my first-hand experience with jazz musicians, but I have no doubt it applies much more broadly to artists in general.

I think this requires a mindset shift for musicians, one that starts with an expectation of ownership rather than servitude. You have options and you have power that you haven't been aware of.