Musicians have to eat too
Mar 26, 2009 at 16:48 | Comments: 7Roland Sylvester
Particularly pertinent in the current economic climate, the song sheds light on the notion that, yes, life is tough, but we must all soldier on. Music has that wonderful ability to conjure up all sorts of emotions in us: It can stretch out a smile, whip up an angry frenzy, sweeten a romantic tryst and kick-start the ‘rhythm’ again when we’re feeling only ‘blue.’
Yet not all are gifted with this ability. We must often rely on the talents and efforts of the artists to provide us with the means to manipulate our moods. So, at a time when the sky looks like it could come crashing down, how are Ukrainian musicians holding up? Let’s take a look.
Ukraine boasts a rich musical tradition: Folk, classical, pop, rock. In short, the whole musical gamut is ably represented. Artists such as Volodymyr Ivasyuk caused the Soviet authorities much consternation. On May 18, 1979, he was reportedly found hanged in the forest on the outskirts of Lviv. His Wikipedia entry says the official cause of death was listed as a suicide, but suspicions about different circumstances surrounding his death remain to this day.
Music in the blood is not food in the belly.
Musicians, those who would dedicate their lives to their art, must make ends meet like the rest of us. For this to happen, people must buy their records and attend their concerts. According to an interview in ‘Delo’ newspaper given by Edward Klim, an influential chief of “Lavina Music,” artists sell no more than a meagre “one or two records a month.” The average price per record stands at Hr 20. Proceeds from physical music sales would not even cover a replacement guitar string, let alone the profligacy of supper.
Digital music, according to Klim, fares better: A track costs Hr 2-8. Thus, for now, “people can allow themselves [the luxury of] not forgetting about music.” But in the murky, unchartered waters of the Internet, pirates swarm and steal, unfettered by concerns of conscience and legality. Music on the web is public property: Misko Barbara, lead singer of the popular band Mertviy Piven, in an interview conducted for the Kyiv Post, highlighted the issue: “In Ukraine there is absolutely no way to control where, how much, and how music is distributed.”
And now, with pay packets stretched to breaking point by wild swings on the currency markets, the impetus to arrogate music from its proprietors without due recompense is as acute as it is abject.
If you won’t buy our music, will you at least come and see us play? As any aficionado of the arts will thus avow, there’s nothing much better than catching it live. Concerts are the apogee of an artistic vision: The endless hours composing, fine-tuning, practicing; all for that hour on stage with fans interchangeably swaying, moshing, observing or plain crowd-surfing.
Yet does doom and gloom on the markets make for sombre and solemn concert halls? Are the punters (concert-goers) still packing the venues? Are the artists still putting on the shows? Here, a slight discord emerges: Misko Barbara has not noticed a decline in the number of concert attendees; you, sir, seem “recession proof” – an accolade to rival any Grammy you could conceivably win! The general picture, regrettably, diverges somewhat: Viktor Morozov, the acclaimed songwriter said: “As for concerts in general, yes there havebeen fewer over these past few months and many planned concertshaveeither been cancelled or delayed.” Klim concurs, going so far as to say “no artists are organizing tours.”
The future, it would seem, is bleak for an industry beleaguered by choking sales, belittled by piracy and bequeathed only plummeting concert attendances. Yet, Annie didn’t sing her song for nothing; ask any artist, they’ll tell you they ‘ain’t in it for the money’. Au contraire, the question “has the financial crisis affected your creativity in any way?” was met head-on with a resounding ‘no’. The musician’s life is a ‘hard knock life’, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Music will always be there to as an emollient to the reality of its listeners. It is, like a sunny day, one of life’s little pleasures -- free to enjoy by all. And music will always be made by those who love it, regardless of its inability to generate the income inherent in products that can be rationed. However, though it may be but quixotic on my part, love given should be love requited. When next time you fall for a piece of music, though times are hard, show your affection. Pay for the pleasure, and urge that artist to soldier on.