Monday, 1 November 2010

Innovation Papers #1 - BPI's Innovation Panel

This is last week's opinion piece on the Innovation Panel as published RotD Friday 29/10/10 and the first of a series of posts on innovation in the music and rights-based media sectors:

The BPI’s Innovation Panel - long term digital success can begin with a brainstorm

When I read Music Week’s leader piece on the BPI’s Innovation Panel ‘brainstorm it made me think back to music industry investors conference in 2001, hosted by Morgan Stanley. It was the first of this type of event I had attended, new as I was to the music industry – but it has stuck fast in the memory.
The event lined up the various facets of the industry – labels, publishers, management, artists (Jean Michel Jarre did the honours) and retailers - and an analyst from Morgan Stanley said his piece as well. All the various sector representatives spoke articulately and entertainingly (particularly memorable was a quip by ex-Manager Ed Bicknell about the music industry move to digital being a difficult process akin to a “dolphin swimming with a hard on”).
They spoke with passion, expertise and confidence. And they all said completely different, contrary things. I don’t know what investors in the audience were texting back to their colleagues but it can’t have been too encouraging. Putting it mildly, it looked like working with the industry across the piece might prove challenging.
However, it certainly didn’t do any harm to the tide of investment and innovation that swept across the music industry during the remainder of the decade. At the Morgan Stanley do, management guru John Rose – then a recent addition to the EMI Board – claimed EMI had licensed over 60 digital partners already – and this pre-dated iTunes!
Digital innovators will complain about the music licensing process until the cows come home – but the number of services that have secured licenses and launched in the marketplace globally is huge. The IFPI kept a ‘log’ of all new digital music launches worldwide and by the time I left there at the end of 2006 there were well over 500 services on that log. More recently, for the past three years MusicAlly has produced an annual report of the ‘top 200’ digital music start-ups each year – just the top 200, mind (though not all these services require anything like comprehensive on demand licenses).
So, on such fertile ground – how come there is such a debate raging right now, as we approach the end of the decade (particularly in the US but over here too) about the state of innovation in the music industry? Recent pieces featuring music services iMeem (closed), MOG (building) and Rhapsody (‘maturing’) have all made their case and the take-away is that the industry’s record of innovation is, at best, patchy.
While the digital market is still growing it has become clear that there aren’t enough thriving services to continue the current pace of growth and perhaps of more concern are the number of services that have recently shut down or gone quiet. In the UK, where the digital market is showing greater health than the US (as is the music scene as a whole) there are still too few successful digital music services given the huge amount of industry resources that have shifted focus to digital during the decade. Something has to change.
UK consumers are served fairly well at present. We have major download stores iTunes and Amazon and the recently re-launched HMV Digital as well as Play.com digital. We also have the genuinely successful music start-up story of the decade in Spotify, but others too have set up first in the UK, including We7 and Mflow. And we now have the first wave of ‘cloud’ services arriving, beginning with Carphone Warehouse and Catch Media.
The first thing to acknowledge is the level of innovation at work here. Though not easy, the digital music market is there – functioning and growing. There has been a huge effort to get here on the part of all members of the commercial value chain and not least, the work of the industries trade groups in their collective efforts to create and sustain the fertile ground for commercial innovation.
But more can be done and must be done. The BPI’s Innovation Panel is a positive first step in taking what’s ‘good’ in the market and attempting to make it better – from merely ‘functioning’ to thriving would be both desirable and admirable objective. Our work as an Innovation Panel has thrown up many areas for improvement with the major ones as follows:
  • Clear unmet gaps in music consumers’ needs  (and therefore market opportunities
  • A generally poor appreciation (or communication) of the potential of these opportunities (as well as a unified understanding of potential impact on the existing marketplace)
  • A lack of structured process in the development of new music propositions (with services having to ‘hawk’ their models around the various industry sector organisations one by one)
  • No alignment of view on major business model variants (streaming, cloud services, payment models for example) with opinions allowed to vary widely due to a lack of factual research and insight
There are many other issues and challenges of course. We know that music services and innovators would like a smoother licensing process (or failing that a complete overhaul) and ‘cheaper’ licenses / greater margins. However as a trade body the BPI’s boundaries are clear in that it is prevented by competition law to enter in to dialogue on commercial issues. So far I can see only advantages in this limitation.
The current go-to-market process for music services needs a clear pre-cursor to the rounds of commercial negotiations, beginning with a shared vision of the opportunity itself. The BPI aims to create a first stage ‘Proposition Development’ process whereby a multi-disciplinary team drawn from the majors and indies sit, down with music service innovators and use a range of resources – research & insights, shared data and experience – and a tight agenda – to drill through some key questions:
  • Who is the service for? (consumer segment)
  • What is the nature of the opportunity? (unmet consumer need)
  • What are the key features that meet the need? (service design)
  • What is the potential of the opportunity? (market size)
  • What is the potential impact of the opportunity? (market impact)
With the aim of establishing clarity from this collaborative and structured approach to proposition development, we can hopefully provide clearer context to the commercial rounds that follow. There’s much further to go and no guarantee of commercial success, but the chances can be improved at the outset. It begins where most innovations begin – with a brainstorm.
Keith Jopling has been Chairing the Innovation Panel

Friday, 15 October 2010

Something's not right - "A'm affet"

The Scots have a saying “Am aff et” – pertaining to their current drinking habits (we’re talking booze, naturally). As in, imagine yourself in a bar in Glasgow hearing a guy ask his pal “right whatya havin”) only for the pal to reply “nah thanks pal, A'm affet”. Being set in Glasgow, our teetotaller will then of course be subjected to a torrent of abuse such we have never heard the like - in a language we don't in any case fully understand. 

I love the Glasgow patter – and have studied it off & on, over the years (there’s always something new to discover). What I love about this saying is it makes the assumption that the default setting for all humans north of the border is normally, to be very much “on it” – which is fair enough when you take into account the weather they put up with. Certainly, being “affet” is accepted only as a very rare state of being.

So it is though with me and music – currently. Something’s wrong – A'm affet. I’ve struggled to connect with anything on my iPod for the past two weeks. Yesterday in the gym I couldn’t find anything sufficiently motivational – not even from the usual suspects Iron Maiden, Def Leppard, Feeder, Judas Priest, Van Halen et al. (It has to be metal in the gym don’t it? Please don’t tell me you listen to dance or 80s mixes?). I had to make do with some old Third Eye Blind which barely got me through it. During the warm-down I sought inspiration with a blast of the new Afrocubism album but despite the obvious genius on offer, again I just couldn’t connect with it.

Now this has occurred from time to time before. I can at rare times find that I am bored with my entire music collection – seven thousand odd tracks on the iPod, the ever present CD shelves (classics, current and those thrown in to the cupboard below which then hang on desperately forever in CD purgatory) – nothing can seem to offer a breakthrough (we can skip radio safely I think).

I don’t know what the root cause is. I know I had a recent episode of ‘the lurch’ over a Superchunk album I downloaded from Amazon. The lurch is another music-fan phenomenon these days very rarely encountered – namely when you buy (before you try!) a much anticipated or recommended record before actually playing back and feeling slightly sick at the fact that you know you don’t like it – and never will. The lurch is a hangover from the days when we paid £13.99 for a CD only to get it home and realise it really was a duffer.

These days Spotify, We7 and blogs have meant to have solved the lurch. Except they haven’t in some cases for me, because there’s stuff I don’t want to stream first, or I know won’t turn up on these services (the catalogue of American indie and alt country on UK streaming services is paltry). Besides, Amazon allowed me to download the Superchunk album on the Saturday before its Monday release date (can Amazon really do that?). So it all made sense until I played it back – too many unsubtle guitars and every track beginning or ending in guitar feedback and the guy can’t sing – urgghh.

That left me disappointed. Perhaps missing the I Am Kloot gig at Union Chapel was untimely, since that was the last record I really played to the point of pure enjoyment. No gig is on the cards now until Spoon on November 16th!

Given the age we are living in, this shouldn’t happen of course. So, I’ve made it my mission for this week to go out and discover something new. I’ll be trying out the Chompin mobile app for blog streams and sticking with Shuffler.fm too. I’ll get back on to Mflow for a bit and check out We7 and Spotify’s recently upgraded playlisting features. I might even re-subscribe to emusic or something similar. I’ll stick with my usual scan of the music papers and magazines of course and have a blast on Metacritic (though I’m not greatly impressed by the 83/100 score for Superchunk!).

I’ll report back on the efficacy of these various prescriptions when I’m cured. Or maybe I’ll just get back off the wagon with some classic Beatles or something...advice welcome.

Saturday, 18 September 2010

What will Radiohead do next?

It’s just over a year ago since I wrote the post ‘thoughts from a beach’ – in which I referred to an Interview with Thom Yorke in ‘The Believer’ music issue (still waiting for the2010 issue from Amazon – McSweeney’s publishing is pure gold), and wondered a bit about what Radiohead would do next. It’s something I again came to be thinking about – on the very same beach – just week before last.

This week, viewing the band’s fan-sourced Prague concert video (thoughtfully sound-tracked by the band hence worthwhile streaming quality if you can get it through decent speakers), I went beyond wondering. I am in fact, now quite eager to get my fix of the world’s most talented band once again. It’s been over a year since Radiohead began new studio sessions with long-time producer Nigel Godrich so something must be due fairly soon, but when? However, it’s not so much when as what that interests me most.

Since In Rainbows, there is a massive distraction around Radiohead now – about the way they deliver music. Echoing the music scene itself all too often, there’s a fascination with how the band will release its new music – by what method – possibly more than an interest in the music itself.

But in terms of release strategy, what is there left for the band to do, having made their big statement with “In Rainbows”? Free agents as they are – and now self-appointed business model mavericks – the sky’s no limit – but is there anything that hasn’t already been done?

We’ve had free songs, free albums, track-by-track ‘episodic releases’ – dispensing with the album format – and the release of song-stems for fans to mix themselves. We’ve had crowd-sourced albums, pay-what-you-feel albums and a song-a-day for a year. It’s been done to death. It’s almost boring. Besides, the pay-what-you-like strategy with In Rainbows clearly underwhelmed. It was in fact the made to order box-sets that really ‘performed’.

I was impressed with the value-added packages The Arcade Fire released (through Topspin) – but not as impressed as the record itself, you will have gathered. I want the same from Radiohead. With all my interest in music business models and product innovation, what I need most of all, as a life-long fan, is an unceremonious release of a classic Radiohead album. But is that what they have planned I wonder?

Checking out the competition
Most musicians, especially popular ones who’ve achieved big success and have a reputation to live up to, can be fiercely competitive. Creatively that is. They wouldn’t be as crude as to be commercially competitive of course!

At Wilco’s show on Tuesday night at the Royal Albert Hall I was wondering what was going on through Ed O’Brien’s head as he nodded along throughout the duration of a wonderfully consistent evening’s music.

In recent times – like Radiohead – Wilco has delved deep into sonic experimentation and have gone way out there creatively – notably with records ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ and ‘A Ghost Is Born’ – but never at the expense of writing truly great songs – consistently.

It would be nice to think Ed took inspiration from the evening and that between their extraordinary creative individual and collective genius – Radiohead’s prime strategy next time out is to make a major statement first and foremost through the music.

It’s good to be back
A brief thanks to all for sticking with me through a busy summer in which writing JB posts has had to take a back seat. Hopefully I’ll post more often towards the end of this year – a vintage one music wise in my view and well worth more reflection.

Meantime – for fresh discovery I recommend the new Shuffler.fm blog streaming service. Currently in free beta, it is a wonderful way to discover all kinds of stuff you couldn’t even hope to find in most music service catalogues – what a great idea. Anything that scales blogs is most clever. I’ll need to consider its commercial potential for a later post.

Thursday, 12 August 2010

A Now Familiar Arcade

As you will know if you read JB regularly (as regular as a once-a-month post gets, with apologies) you’ll know I’m fascinated by the fact that ‘all the music, all the time, anywhere’ has somehow become the de-facto solution to commercial music - because it isn’t. 
As the industry hurtles towards cloud-based solutions – it’s about to find out that consumers are about as ready for the cloud as they were for 1st generation subscription services when Napster advertised during the super-bowl in 2005.
I could go on, but this post isn’t about business models but consumption models. Specifically, a mode of listening that I have found increasingly works for me – that of putting an album of heavy rotation – repeated listening – sometimes for days at a time.
It worked recently with the National. It also worked with Gorillaz – The Plastic Beach album I revisited and only listened to properly after being inspired by the band’s Glastonbury performance (who cares if the Glasto crown was unforgiving, it looked and sounded brilliant on telly). The Janelle Monae album has had a similarly dedicated airing.
Most recently though, it’s been Arcade Fire’s latest, ‘The Suburbs’. As is my want, I skipped their first two records partly due to the indie hype around them and partly due to what I had heard not arresting me (I found them just too noisy). This time the reviews about them ‘lightening up’ along with a £5 price tag on 7 Digital, was enough to swing it.
Last week I played ‘Suburbs’ on the headphones during 3-4 commutes to London & back – roughly as many times I played the album (16 tracks, 1 hour). I liked it but that was all. It sounded a little bit too evenly-paced if anything.
Then something extraordinary happened. I left it a day or so, then put the album on in the evening – headphones on – and chilled. Eureka. Every track separated and revealed its own character – which was one thing – but then each song also began to make sense in its place in the sequence – with the album subsequently becoming much more than the sum of its parts. In short, it’s an absolute classic.
The album takes you on a journey – a jaunty uplifting start, then a coming down in tone but a serious raising of the quality bar with 4th track ‘Rococo’. The second quarter is then a gradual development of depth – and then come the centrepiece – ‘Surburban War’ – which is the kind of track we could expect from Radiohead or U2 when at the absolute peak of their creative powers – and that’s saying something. Quite expertly, a punkish rock-out track ‘Month Of May’ follows that, and then the album takes you on a cool-down with a bunch of more reflective songs. There’s a lift right before then end and then a kind of genius in closing the album back where it started, but with a stripped down finish. It doesn't so much end as resign.
The whole experience is superb. Now I do like themed records and this one does have a theme – of returning to the landscapes in which you grew up – with the weird, existential tingling that can create. And this is at a time when I’m also reading Michael Chabon’s ‘Manhood for Amateurs’ – in which he places the role of being a father (of 4!) in the context of his own childhood, including this same idea of revisiting both mental and physical landscapes that look or feel like fragments of alien places by the time we’ve grown up. If ever books needed accompanying soundtracks, and presumably soon they wil...
And to think I almost skipped 'Suburds', since I’ve got a backlog of music I’ve been trying to get to for several weeks, months even. It’s why I don’t currently subscribe to a music service and I don’t know if I will again in the short-term. I’ve a feeling if I’d streamed ‘Suburbs’ – in part or fully, it would never have reached that part of my subconscious that brought me back for a proper listen – the one that changed my relationship with the record for good.
I’ve now over-played the album of course, so I’m laying-off for a while and searching for the next life-affirming feed. But I’m not looking at streaming any candidates for now because I just don’t want to jeopardise this process that is really working for me in terms of enjoyment. I know the sweet shop is there on the corner and is stocked to the hilt with new stuff, but I’m willing to keep walking by until I’m really in need of a sugar rush. For now the slow-release recipe is working just fine. 

Monday, 12 July 2010

Submitting to Digital


I’ve finally gone and done it. On Friday, I bought my last CD (arrived today, I am Kloot new album “Sky at Night” – along with the new Janelle Monae and Dark Night Of The Soul albums). And I picked up my final ever PAPER Guardian, with the ever brilliant and to me (previously) essential, “Film and Music” supplement.

This has been a long time coming of course, especially since, in theory anyway – I have been living & breathing digital music since the turn of the century. It’s my job to know about these things, so why haven’t I fully bought in yet as a consumer? Mostly during that time I have been horribly hedged between the two mediums – the physical and the digital.

I’ve become fed up with the physical side of physical – the constant rattling around in the cupboard or shed looking for that old gem I need to hear again, or even finger-searching down the spines of the ‘current play list’ only to open the jewel box (yuk) and find the CD is of course, in the car or somewhere or just plain gone. Plus it’s taking up too much space. As for my 'newspaper', too much of it goes unread and straight-to-recycling, which just seems ridiculous.

Mostly though, it all just seems so out-of-step with the times, technologically and environmentally.
So that’s me. I’ve officially ‘Gone Digital’.

I do however, harbour several anxieties about this decision. As I pour over the cover of Sky At Night, (fascinated to find Guy Garvey and Craig Potter of Elbow are co-producers) I’m already missing the tactile experience of having ‘record cover’ in hand while the music’s on. I’m doubtful that the digital metadata industry can deliver anything like the simple pleasures of this experience.

Also – since physical media plays a big part in my music discovery process (particularly aforementioned Guardian ‘Film & Music’) – I’m concerned I’ll actually start to miss some key album reviews. I love the Guardian iPhone App, but I’m not sure if the App has the complete content that the paper supplement has. Somewhat ironically, since digital has a reputation as a great discovery platform, I’ve never experienced it as such – not as a passionate and active music obsessive.

I’m also concerned about the system of managing my music digitally. My CD shelves are not particularly well ordered, but like a mechanic with his tools, I have a photographic memory of where I left each CD. I know which pile my previous I Am Kloot albums sit in. My CDs are taking up too much space for sure, but at least I know they are there, because I can see them. By quickly scanning any one of the ‘most recent’ piles I can easily remind myself I still need to listen to Paul Weller or Joanna Newsome. But I recently realised just how many downloaded albums I’ve yet to listen to – some from last year. I’d literally forgotten about these, buried as they are into my iTunes library.

I love how smoothly Amazon downloads now embed straight to that library, but almost preferred the old way, when I could at least check my Amazon (or 7 Digital) folders to look at recent or not so recent, purchases. I’d like iTunes to make the ‘recently added’ list both more accessible and more present either online or on the device.

Nevertheless, I’m still going digital. It has to be one way or the other. I will just have to get over my digital discovery issues (with the great help of Spotify, MFlow, the Genius bar and of course, my beloved US indie goldmine ‘Daytrotter’.com).

I’ll do my best to get over my physical needs too, since I’m literally running out of shelf & cupboard space. I’ll undertake to make an effort to improve my digital file management.  I’m still nervous that my digital music collection will evaporate somewhere, but perhaps I’ll put my faith in the cloud (if I can get over my ‘ownership’ issues) or a digital locker service, as it looks like I’ll have a good choice of those next year.

However, this all leaves me with one overriding issue and that’s listening. Actually taking the time to enjoy what I’ve worked hard to discover, access, acquire and manage. I just love playing music back through my (pride and joy) Bowers & Wilkins 806’s. They sound great.

Also, the recently acquired new family Renault came with an integral Bose sound system which rocks. Both have iPod docks, but both have CD trays too. Somehow – the CD – once I’ve got it to hand – goes into the tray with – well – with a more satisfying feeling – than plugging the iPod into the dock. It also encourages me to become more familiar with that particular record, not snack like a junkie on the 6000 tracks in my device. 

Mmm, perhaps I’m not quite through the hedge yet, but still on the fence.

Apologies for not posting much lately. I've been busy, working on some great music industry projects, looking after my kids, and sitting in the sun for five-minute spells of peace & quiet (when I could probably be twittering). The JB blog will be out for the rest of the summer, but you might want to read my post on Google & music on the midemnet blog and also look out for some pieces in the various trusted Music Industry publications over the coming months...all exciting stuff. JB will resume as & when...

Saturday, 5 June 2010

A funny thing happened on the way to The National



Mflow’s tagline ‘Discovery is the best thing in music’ may or may not true, but I’ve just made a discovery myself – that the best sort of music discovery can be discovering the music that you already know. That’s a lot of discoveries in one sentence, so let me explain.

I was all set to skip the new National album. I was just going to let it pass, on account of having too much currently stacked up in the ‘recently acquired’ CD pile-up - and the download equivalent (a queue?).

Then I succumbed, having read too many glowing reviews, and put it on order from Amazon, but with self-calibrated expectations. I say this because, though I am a fan of The National (having first discovered them via their wonderful track “About Today” on an Uncut magazine cover-mount) I’ve found them to be a band of great promise if not quite the accomplished article on delivery.

I bought their previous two records “Alligator” and “Boxer” and found them both to contain great moments (notably on Boxer – “Guest Room”, “Fake Empire” and “Mistaken For Strangers”) but overall, patchy (but, aggrieved National fans, read on). I also once bought three tickets to one of the band’s shows at The Astoria on the “Boxer” tour and coaxed two friends along, eulogising about this great new band I’d discovered.

When they opened that gig with “Guest Room” I felt vindicated and all like the great “A&R” man (it sounded absolutely splendid), but the rest of the gig was somewhat marred by singer Matt Berninger’s apparent discomfort on stage. You can actually hear more about his stage-fright issues via a Guardian podcast here (small aside – what do you do when an artist on the cusp of mainstream success and potentially huge live shows – suffers from lack of stage presence? - I can’t see many artists taking much to a suggestion of stagecraft ‘coaching’).

So, I thought I’d skip ‘High Violet’. Thank god I didn’t. I only really got to play it properly because I was travelling (back from the South West) and was in a bit ‘phased out’ (after a disappointing business meeting). For those reasons, I set the album to play on repeat – and just let it run & run (four-five times over maybe) until it kind of got inside my head.

Three weeks later and it’s still there, rattling around. In fact I only really came up for air by re-visiting their previous two albums – both of which now suddenly connect with me much more than they did originally. Alligator especially, is a real treat, as it turns out.

Somehow I now ‘get’ The National. I’ve got beyond the moody baritone ‘miserabilists’ stage and moved on to appreciate the tightly-wound core of fine drumming, bass and guitar, the finely detailed, layered, textured sounds (including wonderfully understated use of piano, strings and brass), the oddly-affecting, existential lyrics and at last, the strained emotional delivery of Matt Berninger’s vocals. And more than that, his superb phrasing.

It all makes sense – and on High Violet manages to exceed the sum of all these wonderful parts – through having better tunes, with better songs – Berninger’s lyrics now more effective in connecting real-life stories with the weird inner-dialogues – effectively making him a fully-paid up member of the Genuine Pop Music Poets Society.

“Someone send a runner for the weather that I’m under for the feeling that I lost today”, for example, from ‘England’ (for me the album’s pinnacle track, and my self-adopted national world cup theme. Was that really ‘England’ playing in background on some recent world cup BBC coverage? I think it was). Or perhaps take this one, from single Bloodbuzz Ohio: “I still owe money, to the money, to the money I owe” – that’s a clever commentary on the recent financial crisis if you want my opinion. My favourite though is from Lemonworld, where that songs protagonist declares he “left my heart to the army, the only sentimental thing I could think of”. It rouses.

But why am I telling you this on Juggernaut, without due consideration for the industry? Well it actually did get me pondering on both the demand side and the supply side of things actually.

On the demand side, as with Mflow for example – we’ve become somewhat absorbed, perhaps even obsessed with, ‘discovering’ new music, with gaining ‘access’ to it, and with the ‘acquisition’ of it. It strikes me these experiences all pale with actually listening, and forming a deeper relationship with the music than you thought might be possible initially. It’s like discovering a new author and then revisiting all his or her other books, with a renewed, re-ignited pleasure. You can find yourself thanking your lucky stars, just for the serendipity of it all. Besides, the album would never have entered my consciousness in the way that it has, without that first bought of repeated listening.

On the supply side, The National’s story amounts to the way it should be for music artists and their development, does it not? ‘High Violet’ is the Band’s fifth album and represents a sure, steady growth creatively and now commercially as well. It’s refreshing, re-assuring even, that we can still witness artists in a steady ascendancy like this. Isn’t this how it used to be? I would wish the same on The Local Natives, or The Temper Trap – or any other type of band with the apparent talent and capability to arrive where The National has.

Has it got something to do with being on an indie label rather than a major labels? Perhaps, except there are plenty of indie bands on majors with what seems like longevity and ascendancy too. Most notably Elbow (though a partial 'rescue' job was done there), Kings of Leon (now so big it's hard to think of them as 'indie' but they are essentially) and others.

But The National's success seems partly down to the fact that the band didn’t get too popular too soon - that they had time to become this good. With ‘High Violet’, The National has indeed been allowed to bloom.

Sunday, 30 May 2010

Will more Great Catalogue now come back from Exile?

Have you listened to Exile of Main Street lately? If not, then you will surely have at least been curious to do so. It’s been nothing if not omnipresent for the past six weeks or so, leading up to the re-release last week.

This is how to do catalogue marketing. Take a classic record – one with plentiful versions of plentiful stories – and some good music – and re-embed it into the culture. So, for the past six weeks we’ve been ‘treated’ (whether we like it or not, and I for one have quite liked it) to extensive write-ups in all the broadsheets – with cover stories in their supplements, BBC documentaries on the TV and the radio – all seemingly with full participation from esquires Jagger & Richards. I'm sure there's probably been a social media strategy as well but I was less receptive to that if so.

Result for us: Exile On Main Street basically unavoidable. We are forced to submit, basically.
Result for them: Catalogue record from 1972 re-enters 2010 album chart and actually goes to number 1.

No wonder The Stones decided to take their catalogue over from EMI to Universal. Guy Hands probably didn’t paint quite this picture in his lunches with Jagger – the idea that for weeks on end, the likes of ‘Exile’ would literally become the biggest thing in British culture!

Universal is the number one on the block for ‘muscle’ and seems to have true carpet bomb capabilities in the way the other majors don’t (or maybe they can’t afford to or just don’t want to). Mind you having said that, EMI did a pretty good job with the Beatles re-issues didn’t they? When I wrote about that last year I predicted tens of millions in potential sales and I’m confidently assured that the Beatles re-issues have gone beyond 13 million and still rising.

It’s quite a phenomenon this ‘cultural marketing’, give the state we’re in generally and when you consider the fact that so much music catalogue has been commoditised too easily by being made available on streaming services. I think it justifies recent moves by Bob Dylan and other to question the move to be on those types of services. And the campaign around Dylan a few years back, when he released the book, the film and new music – was similarly the cultural phenomenon – and no doubt a fillip for his most recent new releases too.

It seems like the industry is beginning to take its catalogue ‘jewels’ very, very seriously – and that’s a good thing. Perhaps its because new music doesn't connect with mass culture in quite this way these days. Or maybe it's simply a mortality realisation thing, since there is a generation of these greats that may well literally expire on us before the next decade is out. McCartney has announced his farewell tour and you have to question how many more we’ll see – along with new records – by the likes of Springsteen, The Who and indeed The Stones.

What’s next on the catalogue cultural calendar? Personally I would like to see some proper re-appraisal of Queen’s catalogue – perhaps with a movie if that can be pulled together. Or Kate Bush – though I’m pining more for something new from ‘Our Kate’ having recently been playing the Nada Surf cover of “Love and Anger” and recognising just how uniquely Kate Bush it sounds. Stevie Wonder perhaps, with his forthcoming Glastonbury slot as marketing glue? Where was the Bowie ‘Berlin’ series tie in with the recent book by Thomas Seabrook? I’ve been enjoying that and would probably have been persuaded to part ways with money for some specially packaged versions of the Berlin triage of albums – perhaps.

I love the idea that great music can be culturally resurrected in this way – even if it is a bit in our faces via the usual big media gatekeepers – and will always be about records made a long, long time ago.

With ‘Exile’ it all seemed genuine enough and beautifully executed. But did the music itself warrant all this re-appraisal and attention? My CD (come on, after all this campaigning you could hardly be satisfied with downloading Exile now could you? – though I just bought the remix not the fancy packaged double) sat on the shelf for a week until this morning.

Last night I went out for reunion beers with for friends – two of which I had not seen for almost 15 years. This morning’s cotton headed, jelly-legged, bacon-sandwich-assisted slow recovery back to life seemed like the perfect morning to stick it on and given it a spin.

Yes, it’s quite good isn’t it? I guess a lot of people do know that now.