Unique Unicorn Syndrome

Today, I was scrolling through Instagram, and I encountered a musical artist talking about the expenses of being on the indie circuit. "It's $500 for the band to stay in an Airbnb. It's $500 for the van and the gas. And I won't even mention the cost of merch, especially vinyl!" With this, she looked directly into the camera, and begged: "If you are thinking of coming out tonight to see us, please just come! Support Indie Artists! "

God knows if the band had also to pay for the venue, by pre-purchasing tickets. This is not uncommon anymore as we know. The blame is placed on COVID, still, and venues detail their struggles to stay open.

Another post from a very well-known commentator on the music business, estimated that it could cost as much as $200,000 for an independent artist to break through. You could read the comments and note how many agitated artists alluded that only NEPOs and the wealthy could afford to have a musical career.

The pressure on the singer-songwriter is great these days. Not only do songwriters have to hire band members and promote themselves. After all of this, they may have to deal with AI, who can appropriate their work, sight unseen, and use it to train their bots. The Artist isn't even compensated, and may have no idea how their work was located and used.

At one time, it would seem that a very few gifted writers were signed by the likes of Clive Davis (RIP) and "developed" as Artists. They were given an "advance" from which to draw funds to finance musicians, producer, even tour support and publicity.

Confidence came from this representation. The Artist could be the good guy. Staff around the artist handled his or her affairs, even her wardrobe, photography, videography. All of this took place before the "BRANDing" age, wherein an artist needed to sell herself as model, promoter of goods, touring artist, endorsee of products, shows, even possibly television or film actor. And you can bet the signing label got a piece of all of this activity.

The HAVES these days are hugely represented and have magnanimous teams around them, catering to the Artist's every whim. But this Artist, this Unique Unicorn, is now available 24/7. Social Media has turned the artist into a commodity that needs to be present and performing online in some fashion multiple times a day. In fact, the image of this Unicorn never leaves us, if we spend time online. Somewhere is Taylor Swift, always looking pretty cute, always doing the right thing, always saying just the right thing, always looking both innocent and relatable and hot. You have to wonder at the consistency of those good traits. It is both comforting to feel you know and like Swift, and disturbing, as you realise there was never a time in your life that you could look that great and be that much on point.

You're an independent artist and you might think you are UNIQUE. A UNIQUE UNICORN.

But you're probably not. Is this because you are untalented and unattractive and have nothing to say that anyone needs to hear? Hell no.

You're just in the pile. In this glut of Unicorns, your value is that you are willing to pay for the services of those who are making money from your concept of yourself as unique. You will finance your own uniqueness

Hence new industries have been born. In this DIY world, you can pay someone to produce your record. Or you can buy the software, and without even having to play an instrument you can use Ableton to make your own songs. You can pay placement companies to chart your Singles. You can pay musicians to play your songs. You can pay a venue to perform. You can even hire social media specialists to bump up your numbers on Spotify and elsewhere so that your songs will receive the number of likes they need to ascend you to the next level. You are, in essence, creating your own BRAND, with the notion that if you invest , you will be seen and signed by a corporation who will continue to do what you have been doing.

It is no wonder that real musicians tire of all of this, and make simple decisions.

Many people play with their friends at venues they know. Venues that are small, maybe divey, but personal, with fans who love the venue and know the bands. Many musicians hunker into a genre that people know and crave.

A friend of mine who was not a blues artist told me she became one. "That's where the work is," she says. " And I love singing the blues and my partner is a great blues guitarist." They have found blues festivals all across the country and tour for months on the road, meeting people and playing their own music as well as their favorite blues covers. No one judges them regarding their age or look or specialness. They have merged into a scene and complemented those venues who need them and seek to hire and pay them.

The conclusion I have come to is that sooner or later if you want to stay in the musical game you have to move away from the notion of the Unique Unicorn and find a home, a place where your music is accepted, known, needed. This doesn't mean that you as an artist are less yourself.

It means that we can wait to be "discovered" all our lives, when we know that most of these discoveries happen to children, not adults (from Alanis Morisette to Billie Eilish to Taylor Swift who began their careers at 9 or 10 years old) or we can keep throwing money at the wall, buying a career (which at the end of the day might feel like a Vanity Project) or we can find others like us, support them, and find a scene in which other artists are just as interesting and worthy as we are. This is not to insult anyone who has that unfortunate tendency to think like a singer-songwriter and not know what genre to fit into. Honestly, this would describe my own career, my entire life. Still, I would say, there are others out there with a similar problem who could benefit from some support and hopefully also offer it back.

I would sure like to think that this is how scenes with interesting, eccentric and important Unicorns could form the kind of clubs that could change music for the better. We desperately need a rebirth of the NEw in Los Angeles, a celebration of local artists of all ages who do not fit a mold, and have the energy and charisma to beat down AI with a healthy FUCK YOU. We're here, not leaving, and what a party.