How the streaming-music boom is screwing over recording artists

$0.000014 per song? Sign me up!

Musician David Lowrey, formerly of the bands Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, has been on the warpath against the modern music industry – that of Spotify, Pandora and iTunes – for a while now. His blog, the Trichordist, catalogues the exploitation of artists by the new overlords, and acts as a call to arms.

But sometimes, that exploitation is less severe than it looks on first glance.

Yesterday, Lowrey posted a piece titled "My Song Got Played On Pandora 1 Million Times and All I Got Was $16.89, Less Than What I Make From a Single T-Shirt Sale!". It recounts Lowrey's quarterly earnings for the song "Low", a 1993 hit by Cracker which has had an unexpected renaissance due to being featured in the Emma Watson film The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

From Sirius, 179 plays netted him $181.94; FM/AM radio paid him $1373.78 for 18,797 plays; Spotify gave him $12.05 for 116,260 plays; YouTube gave him $1.95 for 152,900 plays; and Pandora paid $16.89 for 1,159,000 plays.

That's a massive difference for Pandora, and it's no wonder that Lowrey writes angrily that:

Right now Pandora plays one minute of commercials an hour on their free service. Here’s an idea! Play two minutes of commercials and double your revenue!

But the story is actually more complicated than that. For one thing, as Lowrey writes, he only owns 40 per cent of "Low", so the numbers are artificially, er, not-high. For another, the royalties schemes Lowrey is discussing only cover songwriting credits. The performance royalties come through a different channel, and can be quite a bit higher.

But the most important difference is that, although all those services are technically "radio" – which is why they are covered by blanket licensing schemes – they are used in very different ways.

Take a look at the price per play:

Sirius 101.6424
FM Radio 7.3085
Spotify 0.0104
Pandora 0.0014
YouTube 0.0012
Service Price per play (¢)

That runs the gamut alright; but there's three clear categories of service in there. The top end plays the same song to thousands of people at a time. Assuming the average commercial radio station has 5,000 listeners, then the price per listener is actually better than it is on Spotify. Sirius pays much more, but it's also national; and so requiring 73,000 listeners to equal Pandora's price-per-user isn't that big of a deal.

The next most valuable is Spotify. That only plays to one user at a time (theoretically), but lets them choose what they can hear. That leaves it more likely to cannibalise record sales, but also offers the chance for an artist to earn more from their die-hard fans.

After that comes Pandora, which is a real internet-radio service; you can't choose what songs play, nor can you skip through too many you don't like. You can, however, adjust the playlist by giving it an artist or genre to focus on, and it will play things like that.

With all of that considered, it's pretty clear who the real rip-off is: not Pandora, but YouTube. It pays less per play than Pandora, even though it lets you pre-select the songs that will be played. And if you spend enough time with children, you'll know that it's perfectly possible to use YouTube as a jukebox, with judicious use of the playlist function.

But the real problem for artists like Lowrey isn't really the exploitation by the music services at all. Instead, it's that it's getting ever harder to get the millions of listeners required to make a living. To get $1,400 for one song on terrestrial radio, Lowrey probably had to win over ten, maybe twenty people who set the playlists for nearly every commercial radio station in the country. To get that much from Spotify, he would have to get 100,000,000 plays – and even if people love the song, that still requires convincing a good million people to click play.

The economics are against him on that one.

Sirius 101.6424
FM Radio 7.3085
Spotify 0.0104
Pandora 0.0014
YouTube 0.0012
Service Price per play (¢)

 

Photograph: Spotify

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.