Read Tori Amos: Piece by Piece Online
Authors: Tori Amos,Ann Powers
He enjoys watching the fall of a colleague. The self-destruction of another. The physical defecation. His fingerprints are never on the person's state of mind—hard thing to measure. It makes him hard. Aroused.
“Yes, Mom, it turns him on.”
“How,” she asks me, “in Jesus’ name, how can someone that has been, let's say, not an enemy but even called friend, a good acquaintance or business associate, how can they become like this?”
“Because, Mom … he likes the blood.”
“But he doesn't seem like an evil person when he talks, dear.”
“Yes, and bin Laden lives behind my trigeminal nerve—that doesn't mean I won't play fair. Some people you think you know until push comes to shove. The Day of Reckoning. It happens in every relationship; the friendship gets tested and it always comes down to one thing: Do we both want a win-win? He's the type of creature who in order to really win then needs someone to lose. Someone must pay. Someone must be yelled at, humiliated. A pound of flesh must be paid to feed his inflated sense of himself. Insatiable need.”
“What need, pray tell, does he have? He has so much power, darlin’.”
“I know, Mom. But so did Napoleon. So did Hitler.”
“You know, Hitler was a vegetarian, dear.”
“Yes, Mom. Never hurt an animal. But they have the same ravenous need.”
“Need for what?”
“An endless need to possess. You know, Mom, benevolent and malevolent are only a couple letters off.”
“Yes, dear. I would say these two misguided tyrants, who remind me a bit of your friend somewhat, were six letters off.”
“How's that, Ma?”
“That would be Russia, dear.”
this House is like Russia
with eyes cold and grey
you got me moving in a circle
I dyed my hair red today
I just want a little passion
to hold me in the dark
I know I've got some magic
buried deep in my heart
but my priest says
you aint savin no souls
my father says
you aint makin any money
my doctor says
you just took it to the limit
and here I stand
with this sword in my hand
you can say it one more time
what you don't like
let me hear it one more time then
have a seat while I
take to the sky
I've been playing that almost every night on the
Scarlet
tour. Reclaiming something. Russia's landscape has changed since I wrote that in 1990. But my landscape has changed, too. Conflict and the pain of conflict come up in every show, in every record. At least somewhere.
The music industry does not deal in music. It deals in moving product. There are a few terms you will need to know and understand to be involved in this world. The first one is actually two words:
NET and GROSS.
When it comes to you as the artist, you will want to know who is getting paid on the net or on the gross. Virtually in all cases the artist is paid on the net—that means after everyone has taken his or her piece of the pie, so to speak. Record companies take their piece first, and once you the artist have paid back all your expenses and some of theirs, then you finally get what's left … if there is anything left, sometimes there is and sometimes there isn't.
Now the dangerous question here is, obviously, Who is getting paid on the gross? Who is getting paid before all the expenses are deducted? Who is getting paid on your creative work before you are? There are a few managers who get paid on the gross because they are responsible for manufacturing an artist, but I have found through the years that many managers who don't manufacture artists still want to be paid on the gross and will take that option if they can get it. I find that grotesque. That is why I set up The Bridge Entertainment Group with Johnny and Chelsea, because I inherently disagree with the philosophy of more than a few management groups. It's less complicated to define how net vs. gross impacts an artist's financial future when it is explained in terms of touring. Here's an example of how paying on the gross could affect an artist. Whether the number in this example is $10 thousand or $10 million, the result for the artist in this scenario will be the same. Namely, that the artist will potentially be in debt after a year of touring. Being In Debt is Being In Debt no matter how you get there. Let's say this artist is involved in a deal where the manager is being paid on the gross, and after a year of touring the artist has grossed $10 million on tour. The artist will then realize, to their shock,
as they start having an eczema attack, that before all the expenses have been covered, the agent and the manager are taking their share. What this means is simply that if the agent is on a 10 percent deal and the manager is taking 15 percent … well, you do the math. The agent would take $1 million and the manager would take $1.5 million.
Now let's imagine your Accurate Accountant calls you and says, “Excuse me, Artist, we have a problem.” They then drop the bomb: “Because your expenses in themselves were eight million, with the added commissions of one million for the agent and one and a half million for the manager, you are now a half million in the hole, in the red, in debt.” “I am what?” you stutter in absolute horror. The very grave answer from the very Accurate Accountant: “I hate to say this, Artist, but you are a half million In Debt.” Then the artist starts to freak out and says, “This can't be happening, I've been on the road for more than a year of my life … how could this happen?” “It happened because apparently you agreed in the contract to pay your management company on the gross instead of the net.” Now usually agents get paid on the gross. Agents book the gigs. Some agencies get 10 percent, some get 7.5 percent, and some get 5 percent on the gross of an artist's tour. This must be negotiated with the agency. I've been with Carole Kinzel over at CAA since the beginning of my career. She's one of my dear friends, and yes, she knows how I feel about any agency taking such a huge percentage. In my opinion, the percentages for agencies are still out of line. However, it's a ballpark standard for an agency to take from 10 percent negotiating down to 5 percent of the gross of an artist's tour, depending on the artist's pull in the industry.
Management companies, however, do not have a ballpark figure. Some are taking 15 to 20 percent off the gross of what an artist generates. Some are taking 15 to 20 percent off the net of what an artist generates. Well, obviously there is a massive difference in these two options. Net pay for
managers off a successful artist is a pretty good payday, so can you imagine a gross payday off a successful artist? I feel that management companies receiving payment of 15 to 20 percent of the gross is extortion. The manager will be making more than the artist because, you must remember, the artist has to shoulder all the expenses, unlike actors. Actors are not responsible for the costs of the movies they are in, whereas musicians are completely responsible for many of the costs that go into the manufacturing and promotion of a record, including the funding for their own tour and quite possibly the party the label is throwing for the launch of their record. Don't forget the word
recoupable
, because everything is. The words
recoupable
and
nonrecoupable
will be mentioned more times in this industry than the words
good luck.
This is one of the reasons that you'll read about certain musical artists who have sold millions of records of their own music and yet are broke. I mean actually broke. No house. Move in with a friend. Move back home. Try again. Sing in the shower, it's safer.
Now for our next word that I think is quite important, and here again it's more of a phrase than a word:
YOUR FRIENDLY MUSIC ATTORNEY.
Do I have one? I have two. They are known to our team as “the good guys.” They would be Jamie Young and John Branca at Ziffren, Brittenham, Branca, et al. Does it matter who your music attorney is? Well, let's put it this way: the first thing out of the mouth of “those who are they” at the record label will always be, “So, you have good representation?” Now, that is not a question. Is it a warning? Well, in a way. Partially because if you don't have a powerful deal maker, your attorney, then you are toast. The record label likes toast, even those on low-carb diets. Toast is popular but something that you or I really do not want to be. Have I ever been toast? Yes. With organic honey and smooth peanut butter dripping off it. And I've also been toast that has no Dutch butter spread on it, that doesn't even have margarine on it, for chrissake. Just
toast left on the counter fighting not to get stale and moldy while waiting for the attorneys to get back with a counteroffer. There's a natural question at this point: What does this music attorney get paid? I would say loads and loads. They can make tons. Sometimes, they can even make more than the artist. I did not say all the time. But I'm trying to impress upon you their importance. Or should I say the importance the music industry itself has placed on some of them. I'm only talking about the Big Guns. So if you're not a Big Gun, then you won't be offended by what I'm about to say. And if you are a Big Gun, then go on, bask in your Bigness— this is quite glorious.
These folks are the power brokers for the whole industry. A very few represent the whole kit and caboodle. For example, an attorney who represents “you,” let's say, could be talking about “your” issues with the chairman of a record label, whom this attorney might also represent. And if your attorney doesn't represent the chairman, they could be golf buddies, or this attorney could be described sort of as one of the label's guidance counselors. Or the attorney could be doing The Big Deal with “such and such” merger that the chairman of your record label wants your attorney to finesse … In another instance, if the firm with whom your attorney is with has a stable of artists, this adds to their flexibility in making deals. Mainly because if you're their only client, then if and when you fall out with your record label the big Cheeses that run the label won't need to take your attorney's call. But an attorney who has many irons in the fire, on the other hand, will always have his call received because the label cannot risk pissing off the firm who has all the horses running in the Kentucky Derby. So when your record label has stopped giving you any oats or carrots, and your stall has been completely left to rank and ruin, then it's not a bad idea to be with a firm that has a big enough stable so that even if you have to get carrots from the Arabian
next door, at a certain point it doesn't matter where the carrots are coming from …
Let's talk about payment. Some attorneys will want percentages on all income because they feel they have negotiated it. Others will take a fee. You're talking about hundreds of dollars an hour here. The simple truth is, though, that artists need music attorneys as much as soccer players need a ball. The other simple truth about this matter is that because most of Congress is in the back pocket of the powers behind the majors (there really are only four major labels now), these barbaric laws have been able to stay in place. Laws whereby artists can be “owned” by a record label for fifteen years or longer. Yes, these laws are still firmly in place. Yes, they are antiquated laws that say that once you sign a contract you have signed it in blood—you have handed over all your power whereby if you disagree with a major label, they can obstinately refuse to let you go. Hear me, young artist: You cannot even quit. You're not even allowed to quit your job. And if you try to quit … are you kidding me? Quit? They will sue your ass if you even think about trying to make music and distribute it on your own. Why? Because if you sign a standard artist's contract, then they think they own you.
The theatrical community has laws in place that protect them against this kind of ownership. The music industry and the film industry are completely different animals. Now. The next layer of this music business cake is obvious. If there were clearer laws in place, not only would the label have to adhere to certain parameters (legally set in place by the government) but—and here comes the clincher—but the need for music attorneys, these power brokers, these deities, would diminish. So, who has a lot to lose here? As much as I may adore and respect my music attorneys, I still have a responsibility in writing the “Music Business” chapter to question the music attorney community as a whole, as well as their intentions. Now, I'll be honest with you: if I were a music industry attorney, I
would be torn. That's just the truth, I would be torn. It's a double-edged sword knowing that your place in the industry would lessen if artists were more protected by the government. If these laws were put into place, then the place of the attorney in the music industry as the Tony Soprano of this little music industry drama would become more like Tony Danza in
Who's the Boss?
Let's face it, folks: Tony Danza has always been cute, but between Tony Danza and Tony Soprano, who's the boss here? If I were wagering money on this one, I would say most of the attorneys in the music industry still want to be Tony Soprano.