Two disparate acts came to mind when I heard that OK Go had extricated itself from its recording contract with EMI and planned to go it alone. Neither would probably make Damian Kulash and Co. giddy with excitement, but they certainly serve as a cautionary tale.

In the late 1990s, cosmic country singer Jimmie Dale Gilmore left/was let go from Elektra Records and signed with much smaller Rounder Records. It wasn't a big deal at the time, but I remember thinking that it was a good move. Gilmore would likely never sell more than he did on Elektra, but having used that major label's resources to build a fan base, he probably wouldn't sell a lot less, either.

The Posies were in a similar place at the exact same time. As with Gilmore, their last major label album was in 1996, followed by a 1998 album on an indie. I interviewed the band's Ken Stringfellow around that time, and he articulated what I had been thinking about Gilmore: Why not use the major label to record good sounding albums and promote them like crazy, then walk away and take a much larger piece of the pie on your own?

The cautionary part of the tale is obvious enough. Neither act came anywhere close to the (relative) heights scaled in the early 1990s. Now, you could blame that on a significantly slower pace (Gilmore) or a fractured band (the Posies), but it's also clear that it's certainly harder than it looks to duplicate the multi-pronged efforts of a major label.

OK Go has a leg up on both. Nobody noticed or cared in those pre-Internet days when Gilmore or the Posies parted ways with their labels. OK Go, meanwhile, has write-ups all over the place and its lead singer, Kulash, penned an op-ed for the New York Times shortly before the split about the band's quarrel with its label. The band also has viral marketing on its side, with its self-produced videos earning it millions of hits.

Still, the band had all of that before splitting with EMI, and while it could be argued that the label's archaic ideas about embedded videos likely hampered promotion somewhat (a hurdle more than compensated for by the press the band earned by bringing those policies to light), it also spent money on ads and other promotions. Result? Less than 25,000 albums sold in about two months. While most bands would kill for those figures, a major label can't tolerate that total.

So, for OK Go, the future is entirely reliant on mediated expectations. If the group is content to sell 25,000 albums every couple of years and supplement its income with live shows and merchandise, it should be fine. If it takes on a huge staff, attempts make it big and throws a lot of money at the challenge, it won't last long. I'd predict the former course rather than the latter, which then puts all of the pressure on the band's music. Thus far, it has been solidly unremarkable, it's music no better or worse than that of hundreds of other bands. Stripped of the clever videos, there's not much there. Progress is being made (new single "This Too Shall Pass" is definitely a creative step ahead), and that must continue apace while now also running their own label, promotion, distribution, scheduling, etc. Stay tuned.

Labels: music, record labels

What's the bigger surprise: That Warner Brothers records is duplicitous at worst, callously ambivalent at best, or that Too Much Joy has an active web site?

For me, it was the latter. No knock against the fellas in TMJ; just haven't heard about them in a decade or more. I was surprised, then, to see a link to the band's blog where leader Tim Quirk shares the band's most recent royalty statement to highlight the laughable digital sales tally listed. And not just a month, or a quarter or even a year, mind you. But five years' worth. The total: $62.

The New York indie joke rockers signed to Warners for three albums in the late 1980s, and as is clear from the royalty statement, they never came close to making money on the deal. -- they still owe the label $395,000 17 years after the release of their last for the label, Mutiny! So it's not as if Quirk and Co. are looking for a late payday. They simply want an accurate accounting of things.

What makes this all the more sad/funny is that Quirk works for Rhapsody, so he knows exactly how many times the band's songs have been streamed and downloaded, and from his, um, accounting of the matter, it's clear that Warner's is lowballing this to a tragically comedic level.

As Quirk points out in the blog post, consider this a digital-age addendum to Steve Albini's famous anti-major label screed for the Baffler back in the 1990s.

Labels: music, record labels

With the celebration and attendant excitement surrounding Merge Records 20th anniversary today, I thought it would be fun to go back through the label's catalog to pick out a few highlights and gems. For a label that began as a way to put out the music of Superchunk and then more broadly that of bands in the North Carolina area, the label has become one of the most eclectic and rewarding in indiedom. It's no stretch to call it the strongest indie label if judged by its current roster, and that makes picking the best work to appear under the Merge name quite a challenge.

That said, this is a very subjective list, limited to what I've heard and remembered. That means Ganger, Guv'ner, Oakley Hall, Pram and others are not being slighted; I've simply not had the pleasure.

That leaves an awful lot of great music to sift through, which is a pleasant task. Because it's my list, I get to make the rules.:No reissues, which means great work from the likes of Richard Buckner, Big Dipper, Dinosaur Jr. and Volcano Suns originally released on other labels isn't eligible. And, to add a bit of variety, only one track per act (which means this isn't going to be a Superchunk/Spoon slit greatest hits).

So, here's the list. Let the debate begin.

1. Neutral Milk Hotel - Two-Headed Boy (In the Aeroplane Over the Sea) I was tempted by "Song Against Sex" from On Avery Island simply because it hasn't been played to death, but this song is still so powerful and so perfect a decade later that it simply won't be denied. Such power and beauty, harnessed. Barely.

2. Superchunk - Cool (Tossing Seeds) This and the Spoon track were most difficult. So much good music. I guess it goes back to initial impressions. "Slack Motherfucker" was a monster of a song, but the rest of the debut was spotty. When "Cool" came out on a single, it felt like this band had limitless possibilities. "I heard this song on the radio once..." If only.

3. Spoon - The Way We Get By (Kill the Moonlight) One of a couple dozen songs that could represent Spoon. This one was elevated, however, because it shows everything Britt Daniel and Co. can do with the most limited tools: A great groove, a fantastic hook and a ear-grabbing lyric. The band would get better, but by boiling itself down to its essential elements, Spoon puts it all on the table here, with remarkable results.

4. Robert Pollard - Love Is Stronger Than Witchcraft (From a Compound Eye) I'm an admitted Pollard freak, so I could fill this list with tracks drawn from Pollard's four albums on the label. This, however, is a masterpiece. It's an epic with several strong hooks that prove when Pollard wants to deliver, he can.

5. The Broken West - Down in the Valley (I Can't Go On I'll Go On) This is the best power pop song of the past decade, in part because it delivers mightily on both the power and the pop. The band has taken an interesting left turn into Wilco-like experimentation of late, but here it offers a shambling wreck of a song that is ecstatic and gleeful.

6. Arcade Fire - Keep the Car Running (Neon Bible) A little Arcade Fire goes a long way, but when the Boss gives you a ringing endorsement, you know you've got a keeper. All of the elements that made the band so compelling are here, and all the elements that make it nerve-wracking are in short supply.

7. The Clientele - Since K Got Over Me (Strange Geometry) Listen to this and then guess which decade it first appeared. You'd be hard pressed to guess this one. The vocals, the hushed arrangement, the Tin Pan Alley lyric; it's an exquisite package.

8. Teenage Fanclub - It's All in My Mind (Man-Made) The band's last two albums were pale in comparison to the mighty Songs From Northern Britain that preceded them, but the opening track of the band's last disc was oh so good. A minimalist masterpiece that offers sweet release when the snare kicks in.

9. Lambchop - What Else Could It Be? (Nixon): This dirge-fest is among the band's best albums, and this shorter, (relatively) peppy track has all the hallmarks of a great Lambchop song without getting bogged down in the mire.

10. Portastatic - Black Buttons (Be Still Please) Portastatic has always been Mac's outlet for quieter material, but here he shows real range and some real emotional depth thanks to a completely stripped-down track. It's a beautiful song with some soaring harmonies.

11. Caribou - Melody Day (Andorra) I know little about this one-man band, but I do know that the music Dan Snaith makes is claustrophobic in the best possible way. Here, a strong pop hook is buoyed by a practical wall of sound to create something that doesn't quite fit any given genre.

12. Magnetic Fields - Meaningless (69 Love Songs) OK, so picking one of these 69 songs is like choosing a favorite kid; on any given day, the choice could be different. Stephin Merritt's genius is in full bloom here, and it's hard to go wrong with anything from this sprawling three-disc set.

13. American Music Club - The Decibels and the Little Pills (The Golden Age) It was improbable, and a little unfair, to think a reunited American Music Club would revisit the heights of its earliest work. But by its second album with Merge, the group was turning out music as beautiful and lyrically deviant as anything on United Kingdom or California.

14. M. Ward - Big Boat (Transistor Radio): Ward's music is so hermetic and mannered that it can be a big -- though admittedly beautiful -- yawn. Here it actually as a beat you could dance to, and pushes his raspy voice a bit to reveal possibilities he hasn't explored much since.

15. Imperial Teen - Ivanka (On) I hate Faith No More, so I dismissed Roddy Bottum's other band for a long time. A fortuitous promo of On hooked me on this combo's kitschy take on pop. It's still best in small doses, but when a dose is as sugary perfect as "Ivanka," that's a high I'm willing to chase.

16. David Kilgour - Gold In Sound (Frozen Orange) Kilgour, founder of the Clean, has a sound that doesn't deviate much from album to album. Luckily, those albums are almost uniformly excellent. He does change things up slightly here, forgoing the mad strum for something a bit more contemplative. The hook is as strong as ever.

17. Polvo - Vibracobra (Cor-Crane Secret) This early math-rock purveyor has a rabid following and a low profile. Had it debuted a couple of years later, it's angular guitar attack might have taken it somewhere. As it was, those of us in the know had to be content with scorchers like this.

18. Radar Bros. Rock Of The Lake (And the Surrounding Mountains) This band is one of the lower-profile acts on the label, but it's sweeping songs are breathtaking when they're done well. Blending pastoral acoustic guitars and knifing electrics, the group offers a music that swoons and swells, creating something almost cinematic.

19. She & Him - Why Do You Let Me Stay Here? (Volume One) I could just as easily hate this as love it, and today, I love it. Sure, Zooey Deschanel's vocals are mannered and precious, but they're also coy and sultry, and M. Ward's period backing shows how far-ranging the tastes of indie kids can be if given proper motivation.

20. East River Pipe - Ah Dictaphone (Poor Fricky) F.M. Cornog is sort of a lost hero of the lo-fi revolution, but for those in the know, the best of his melancholy pop songs are often the equal of anything Robert Pollard or Lou Barlow was cranking out in the early to mid-1990s.

Labels: music, record labels