Fleet Foxes frontman Robin Pecknold has said that illegal downloading, far from having a negative impact on the music industry, actually makes music better, because it allows musicians to be influenced and inspired by a wider range of other artists.
Pecknold told the BBC: "The more music a musicians can hear, that will only make music richer as an art form. I think we're seeing that now, with tons of new bands that are amazing, and are doing way better music now than was being made pre-Napster. That was how I discovered almost everything when I was a teenager - my dad brought home a modem. That was how I was exposed to almost all of the music that I love to this day, and still that's the easiest way to find really obscure stuff. I've discovered so much music through that medium. That will be true of any artist my age, absolutely".
Up until my early teens I lived in the US. Not a remotely cool part of the US, it was a small town in Florida called Ft Walton Beach. If you wanted to buy music you went to the Santa Rosa Mall. The mall contained the only record store for 30 miles. I'd love to say I was raised on a diet of rare SST and Blast First imports - but, this being the middle of nowhere, I was lucky to find even a massive mainstream release such as The Beastie Boys' 'Licence to Ill' in the racks.And if I did manage to get hold of a copy, thanks to Tipper Gore's one-woman conquest against profanity it was invariably the 'clean' version.
Fast forward to my GCSE years and I'm now living in a forgettable Midlands town in the UK. We have a record store called Nervous run by an old hippie called Gordon who has the look of someone who had a very short, very intense flirtation with psychedelic drugs at some point in his life - resulting in objects permanently being framed by multicoloured halo, with a faint soundtrack composed entirely on a Gameboy playing on an endless loop in his head. Gordon stocks tons of records. If they were made under the influence of drugs, or made the drug-taking experience more exciting, or simply had a cover designed under the influence of drugs, Gordon had it.
By this point I'd started buying import magazines and weeklies, and asking for stuff Gordon simply did not have, or he'd put on back-order and would arrive about 2 weeks later or often not at all, as Gordon had forgotten to order it. Occasionally I'd buy a record from some far-off exotic store like Alan's in Wigan or similar out of the back of the Melody Maker that I'd heard on John Peel, but rarely as it involved catalogues and phone ordering and someone with a credit card. You'd hear a band like Blur or Julian Cope namechecking all these weird and wonderful Krautrock and psychedelic releases, but in a pre-internet age even finding out their names was a huge piece of detective work, let alone discovering anywhere that stocked them. I'd always take a notebook of stuff I was after out to charity shops or day trips, just in case.
Forward again another 5 years and I was playing drums for a band called Mum and Dad - borne out of all manner of esoteric influences, partly from records you stumble across once every few years in tiny secondhand stores that look like they were left there by aliens, such as The White Noise's An Electric Storm. One of the freakiest, most frightening, far-out and forward-thinking albums you may ever get to hear - one of those records that when you hear it for the first time it feels like you've been let in on a huge, monumental secret. I waited 3 years to pick up a copy, which I eventually found in Barcelona, and paid through the nose for it.
To quote their own liner notes:
I can only imagine what effect it might have had if I'd been 12 when this was happening. And now there's nothing to stop a 12-year old downloading the whole White Noise album from wherever they might be. Or Aphrodite's Child's 666. Or the entire Carl Craig back catalogue. Or taking a crash course in Basic Channel. It's brilliant - and Robin Peckhold is completely right.
By this point I'd started buying import magazines and weeklies, and asking for stuff Gordon simply did not have, or he'd put on back-order and would arrive about 2 weeks later or often not at all, as Gordon had forgotten to order it. Occasionally I'd buy a record from some far-off exotic store like Alan's in Wigan or similar out of the back of the Melody Maker that I'd heard on John Peel, but rarely as it involved catalogues and phone ordering and someone with a credit card. You'd hear a band like Blur or Julian Cope namechecking all these weird and wonderful Krautrock and psychedelic releases, but in a pre-internet age even finding out their names was a huge piece of detective work, let alone discovering anywhere that stocked them. I'd always take a notebook of stuff I was after out to charity shops or day trips, just in case.
Forward again another 5 years and I was playing drums for a band called Mum and Dad - borne out of all manner of esoteric influences, partly from records you stumble across once every few years in tiny secondhand stores that look like they were left there by aliens, such as The White Noise's An Electric Storm. One of the freakiest, most frightening, far-out and forward-thinking albums you may ever get to hear - one of those records that when you hear it for the first time it feels like you've been let in on a huge, monumental secret. I waited 3 years to pick up a copy, which I eventually found in Barcelona, and paid through the nose for it.
To quote their own liner notes:“MANY SOUNDS HAVE NEVER BEEN HEARD – BY HUMANS: SOME SOUND WAVES YOU DON’T HEAR – BUT THEY REACH YOU. ‘STORM STEREO’ TECHNIQUES COMBINE SINGERS, INSTRUMENTALISTS AND COMPLEX ELECTRONIC SOUND. THE EMOTIONAL INTENSITY IS AT A MAXIMUM”
Which says it all. The record had a profound effect on much of what I did musically afterwards, from approaching recording to having a desire to plug everything in ass-backwards to see what happened. There were plenty of other 'secret' records I gradually got introduced to as years went on, and then downloads suddenly hit. Or at least internet connections suddenly got decent. All of a sudden you could read up on Greek progressive rock online, or find out more about Eastern European film scores than 12 years of lonely crate-digging could teach you. And then own it all, minus the clunkers.
I can only imagine what effect it might have had if I'd been 12 when this was happening. And now there's nothing to stop a 12-year old downloading the whole White Noise album from wherever they might be. Or Aphrodite's Child's 666. Or the entire Carl Craig back catalogue. Or taking a crash course in Basic Channel. It's brilliant - and Robin Peckhold is completely right.
Ft.Walton Beach? No shit? I lived there for a few years a while back myself. That's nuts. Yeah not alot there but amazing beach, sun sand. Like being Jimmy Buffet only better because you are just you.
ReplyDeleteThat's almost uncanny. lol
I lived in Mary Esther on Shamrock Drive, if that rings any bells? rob
ReplyDeleteHe's right. Apart from the bit about bands being so much better now that "pre-Napster". That is obviously bollocks, no? I could make a list of pre-Napster bands that are/were pretty good, but I think you could too. There were some alright bands in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. I don't imagine White Noise would've been any better if they'd been listening to lots of free Lonny Donegan. Remember the pilgrimage to Alans? And the disappointment that Wigan Pier wasn't really much of a pier at all. Luckily there was a pub there called The Orwell. Classy. Anyway, enjoyed yr post. Speaking of Greek prog rock, have you heard Metamorphi?
ReplyDeleteYeah. Obviously weird and wonderful bands have always existed, but now the potential to pull in an even bigger range of influences than ever is there. I was always limited by money in the old days. Let's not get into the 'paying for music' argument (that's another post) but...
ReplyDeleteI love the idea that these day there's no reason why some kid can't chance across an album like the White Noise from wherever they happen to be and be inspired by it.
If I'd stayed in Fort Walton, pre-downloads, I'd probably be a big Pearl Jam fan these days. A harrowing thought.
You're right of course. I just relied on John Peel and there's nothing like that now, I guess. You kind of wonder how someone who's into say... Coldplay, would happen upon White Noise even today. Unless someone told them about it or made them a copy.
ReplyDeletePS I do remember the pilgrimage to Alans - wow, Wigan was a bit shit wasn't it?
ReplyDeleteI've not heard Metamorphi - will check it when I'm home, sounds good : )
But the excitment was finding that record after three years surely, and reading the sleevenotes, and waiting for that package from those adverts in the back of NME. Me and fmy friends would travel a 60 mile round trip to go a a shop that had a box of 7" on the counter. The guy would play us them, and we would buy one and talk about it all the way back on the train. The whole day was brilliant. My son takes 30 seconds, on his own in front of the computer and he has found what he wants to listen to. And when he listens to it with no idea who played on it, wrote it, produced, etc the artist sits at home waiting for their .0000002p in royalties.
ReplyDeleteAnd a quick spotify search will still not have those obscure gems we travelled all that way for.
Off to listen to that sun kil moon LP on spotify now.
It's one of the sad things related to the decline of record stores over the past several decades. Not stores that simply feature the main stream gack heard on a local radio station near you, rather the ones that actually knew music, eclectic great music. Had folks working there who could tell you something about the music.
ReplyDeleteSure, you can download much of what you might want to hear, through the internet, but there is much lacking from the personal touch of communicating live, with others about the music.
I worked for a man for a time, who knew music, seemingly an endless library cataloged in his grey matter. He educated anyone who cared to listen when they hit his record shop about artists and sounds other than the recent Top 40.
Rob, when I lived in Ft. Walton, Pop was stationed at the Eglin AFB.