I started off writing a blog about something else. I’ve got an album coming out, and someone asked me what I would consider a “success” for it. I don’t really know how to answer that, and my first instinct was to say that I already consider it a success, because I’ve recorded an album and I’m releasing it on itunes for people to listen to, and hopefully enjoy. Regardless of how many copies it sells, I will have actually recorded and released a proper album, instead of the home-spun charming, but amateurish stuff that’s currently available online. That is success, to me – and I’m delighted about it. I’m also bulletproof in terms of how it’s received, because even if everyone who buys it thinks it’s rubbish, I don’t. Of course it would be a shame to work so hard on something and then have everybody who heard it think it was awful, but it would be even worse to compromise and sell it out, and STILL have everyone hate it. I looked at what some people consider success, and had a think about it.
Justin Bieber has 14 million followers on Twitter, Rebecca Black had 167 million views on YouTube, Westlife had 14 number one singles, Ke$ha has sold more singles than The Beatles did in the USA and yet I wouldn’t want to be any of them, not for all the tea in China. I don’t drink tea, actually, but you get my point. I would gladly have their money, and more than gladly have the chance to have that many people listen to my work, but I wouldn’t want it at the price that they have paid, ie people like me having the opinion I have of them. I wouldn’t sell out to get fame and riches. I thought.
But then I thought again. Wouldn’t I? Believe me, I have a very strong sense of my artistic identity and what I want to achieve. I also have a very strong personality when it comes to being challenged and having my vision questioned. I have a huge ego, mixed with occasionally crippling crises of self-confidence. I feel artist-y. I feel like I wouldn’t make sacrifices to achieve financial gain while losing my personal integrity. There are definitely songs that I wouldn’t be caught dead singing. Yes, Justin Bieber has had a lot of success but Jesus Christ, the kid’s a tool. I mean, come on, he is. And the songs are awful. I checked, just to be sure. I didn’t want to be one of these people who just hated him without having actually listened to the songs I professed to hate. But yeah, they’re terrible. My immediate instinct is to say that I would have too strong a moral code to ever lower myself to singing bilge like that. But would that moral code really cause me to turn down commercial success, at that kind of level, if all I had to do was sell out a bit?
It’s a difficult thing to say for sure. I think that absolute refusal to sell out under any circumstances is nice and easy for people to say once they’re already rich and famous, but really, how many struggling musicians who have an audience of about 40 wouldn’t rather be playing to thousands of people and making absolute sack loads of money? It’s all well and good sticking to your guns and gallantly failing, staying in obscurity for the rest of your life cuddling up to the fact that at least you never sold your integrity even a little bit, but does it really make it alright?
I’m 29 now, and I really don’t have any illusions about the avenues that exist for me in the music industry. They are few, and far between. It’s also hard to properly balance reality with your dreams. It’s extremely easy for me to play the card of “well, I know I won’t sell a million copies of my album, but what really matters to me is that the people who do buy it like it” – and that’s true. From the bottom of my heart, I would much prefer it to be 20 people’s favourite album of the year than a million people’s 20th favourite album of the year. But of course I still have that little part of me that wants word to somehow spread enough that I sell loads more copies than I ever thought I could. It’s not financial either – well, not primarily. I want more people to hear it, because then maybe more people will like it. Maybe people will want me to make another album, and maybe I will be able to. Obviously, the financial side of it would matter too, the more copies I sell, the more money I make, but fundamentally the money is secondary.
But what if I could cash in? What if somehow, someone offered me the chance to release an album that brought me financial security? Would I really be able to turn it down? You don’t hear much from Ashanti these days, for example, but when she turfed up with those bloody awful songs, she sold over 10 million records. If I’m lucky, I will make approximately £1.20 from every £5 album sold. Extrapolate that to the usual retail price of an album, and she is looking at the best part of $25m. Wouldn’t it be worth being terrible for that? If I had that much money, I could make all the albums I wanted, preserve all the artistic integrity I needed for the rest of my life. Justin Bieber is apparently worth $80m and he’s not even 18 yet. Couldn’t he call it a day and work on turning himself into a proper artist? You look at some of the most artistically appreciated musicians to have ever walked the earth, and a massive number of them started out singing songs that weren’t their greatest musical achievements. Listen to “Love Me Do”, or “Great King Rat”, or “Why, Judy, Why?”. Look at how Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix got started. The hardest thing about any of this is definitely getting your foot in the door. I have a high enough opinion of myself to believe that if I ever did get a foot in the door, and make some kind of name for myself, I could stay there. My passion for music is all-consuming, I’ve never yet run out of ideas for songs to write, and I love performing and playing. But how do you start? START?! It’s so frustrating, and if a way out was offered to me, if someone rang me up to say, “Hey, I loved that rubbish song you wrote, would you fancy giving it to Justin Bieber, or some other such bloody disaster of a musician, so he can take it and ruin it but you get 20% of the royalties,” what possible part of me could say no?
Fundamentally, the question is, Would I be willing to accept commercial success for something that I was not only not proud of, but actually despised myself for? My worry would be...could I afford not to? I hope that people like the album, I really do – and I’m so proud of it because I haven’t compromised my vision for it in any way. I hope I never do, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved and the songs I’ve written, but if you are a very rich and successful record producer and you need me to churn out a two and a half minute piece of utterly awful but nevertheless commercially acceptable pop disaster, please give me a chance.
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