Music Licensing And The Pay To Play Game

I read a lengthy conversation on LinkedIn today in which a songwriter took a stand against pay-to-play schemes in the music licensing industry. It resonated with many people in the discussion group, and there were many other artists who chimed in to decry services that charge for a shot at getting your song into a film, television show or commercial.

The phrase “pay to play” should first and foremost remind me of the big-bucks payola schemes that greased the cogs of the radio industry for the greater part of this past century. However, as a musician who sometimes used to pass through Southern California on tour, I hear the phrase “pay to play” and think first of the LA music scene, where there were horror stories and wisecracks about musicians paying just to get on the bill of a show.

I was initially drawn to a career in music rights and licensing because I am a music nerd, and I like the idea of being able to valuate a song on the basis of its artists merits and not on the basis of whether the band has the right look. The very word synchronization (as in, synchronization licensing) conveys images locked to rhythm and sound, moving fluidly with the music like the soundtrack runs down the side of a film reel. It all seems so pure.

However, in the practice of music supervision, I have learned that the process of negotiation sometimes makes things less pure. There are marketing considerations, like whether the band will fit the image for a retail back to school spot and do I think the lead singer has camera presence? Years ago, when I started doing this, I was surprised to receive a zip folder of indie rock band photos (mostly of the boys-with-floppy hair variety) and be asked to evaluate them as closely as the songs. At the time, I had naively thought that the project would just be about the music.

Licensing also comes down to negotiation and how the arithmetic of bargaining power is derived from balance of favors given and favors owed. There are the bands and labels and publishers that throw you a free song for your super-indie film or action sports webisode of the week, and you remember to call them first. There are the people who work at catalogs that become your friends, and you also remember to call them first. There are people who come out of the woodwork at exactly the right moment, and so I hit reply and say, what have you got?

But beyond the politics that are as much a part of licensing as in any business, there are also players who prey on the hopes, dreams and worst of all, earnings of musicians. I understand the principle of opportunity cost, and I understand that it takes an investment of time and resources to turn a band into dollars and deals. But I also know that many artists are not ready to be turned into deals, and yet there are companies that would charge these artists money just to make them feel like they moving forward in their careers.

I do believe very strongly in creating a more level playing field and in making opportunity available to all. Because of this, I post most of my music searches online at Twitter so that the people who might be interested in sending me music can send me music when it’s actually relevant to what I’m doing. Those who reach out to me professionally and with courtesy — which means not sending me a dozen attachments of mp3 hip-hop beats when I have not asked for them — will get a response. If I do not respond or do not repsond quickly, it is because I am behind in email, not because I only respond to emails from some so-called tastemakers who would profess to charge artists upfront in order to make my job easier.

Not all music supervisors post their searches online, but many will also respond to someone who thoughtfully reaches out and follows up with courtesy and persistence. It’s worth thinking about this the next time someone asks you to pay for the opportunity to be heard.