I just had to include this article. What a great insight into the music industry.

The Problem With Music by Steve Albini

Whenever I talk to a band who are about to sign with a major label, I always end up thinking of them in a particular context. I imagine a trench, about four feet wide and five feet deep, maybe sixty yards long, filled with runny, decaying sh!@. I imagine these people, some of them good friends, some of them barely acquaintances, at one end of this trench. I also imagine a faceless industry lackey at the other end holding a fountain pen and a contract waiting to be signed. Nobody can see what’s printed on the contract. It’s too far away, and besides, the sh!@ stench is making everybody’s eyes water. The lackey shouts to everybody that the first one to swim the trench gets to sign the contract. Everybody dives in the trench and they struggle furiously to get to the other end. Two people arrive simultaneously and begin wrestling furiously, clawing each other and dunking each other under the sh!@. Eventually, one of them capitulates, and there’s only one contestant left. He reaches for the pen, but the Lackey says “Actually, I think you need a little more development. Swim again, please. Backstroke”. And he does of course.

Thank you Steve.

And of course that is the reason bands like the Arctic Monkeys choose to bypass the whole system and promote their music via the Net.

Those long summer nights in Ireland. Radio Luxemburg and Van Morrison. The distant sound of the Orange Lambeg Drums. The little stone cottage built by my great, great grandfather over three hundred years ago. That was Ballyknock. That was my home.

The old stone walls stood during the great famine and through much hardship and suffering. My grandfather, one of seven sons, stayed at home whilst his two elder brothers sailed for St Louis to find fortune and support the family.

They came home, minus the fortune. They gathered around the open fire and told their stories. They became my friends.

The Internet was still thirty years away. In Ballyknock it might as well have been three hundred years away. We didn’t care. Life was simple. There was little to fear - so long as we stayed out of Limbo, Purgatory and Belfast during the “troubles”.

And then it all changed. The old generation passed on - almost in a blink.

We arrived in Melbourne in 1968. Four years later the news came that the old cottage had been demolished. Ballyknock and the long summer evenings were a distant memory.

Fast forward to 2006. An aimless search on Google finds a trace, just a glimpse of the old Ballyknock. There should be more. such a rich history, all those generations. Couldn’t help myself. Logged onto GlobeVista to see if anyone had stolen www.ballyknock.com. Couldn’t believe my eyes - it was available! My childhood reality at Ballyknock was long gone. But now I had a chance to recreate some of those memories on the net.

And that is the plan. Time to dig out the old photos and get Ballyknock online. The old stone cottage has gone but Ballyknock wont be forgotten.

 

 

As soon as she rattled her jewelry at me I knew that I was in for a debate.

It was one of those gala dinners where you get to dress up and prepare to engage in some friendly chit chat with people outside your normal circle.

At least that was what I was expecting. I wasn’t really prepared for a duel. I didn’t really think I would have to defend my honour and choose my weapons.

But, without warning the main course conversation drifted to the riveting topic of “websites”. Now this was not my fault - Not this time anyhow. Take it from me. There is no better way to kill a dinner conversation than to suddenly start expounding the virtues of niche based, content websites or web hosting or even blogs.

But websites it was. And this was my turf. I had to defend it.

She had mentioned earlier that she owned a restaurant. I actually had been there many times. Beautiful old building steeped in history, Wonderful ambience but yet very trendy. She ran a great business.

I have no idea why she was inviting discussion on her website. Maybe she was just proud that she had one. Doesn’t matter. I was like a lamb to the slaughter. I sheepishly suggested “Maybe you should put up a page talking about the history of the building”.

Why? She snapped back.

“My clientele are young and trendy….they don’t care about history” Mmmm I thought. I have bitten off more than I can chew here. Another drink perhaps?

I wasn’t quick enough to say that “Well I am quite interested in the history of the building” and “I like to eat at your restaurant - maybe there are others out there who feel the same way” No, that would have been too smart. Instead I lamely volunteered “A history page would generate some additional traffic on your website”

“Why?” She snapped again. “I dont need traffic on my website”.

At this point I knew that I was on a hiding to nothing. Time to gracefully retreat from this little conversation.

I said. “Really. It sounds as though your website is working really well. Best not to mess with it” What a wimp! I didn’t really believe that.

Couldn’t help myself. Before hitting the sack I checked out her site.

Sure enough. There it was - a graphic artists dream. Flash intro with no “opt in” page in sight. No way to build up a customer list. Lots of photos but virtually zero content. There was no way she would get any free passing Google traffic.

Here was a really smart business woman who was totally ignoring the online potential of her business. She didn’t even own her own .com domain name. A competitor could easily take advantage of this.

But, then again. Her business was thriving. Her energies were obviously going into making the restaurant the absolute best that it can be. Can’t argue with that.

“I can see her point” I thought. But I couldn’t really.

What a wasted opportunity.