Ora Marr, YouTune Glitch Me, and The Courage To Try

A friend of mine who I used to go to perform original songs with at open mic nights recently published his first book of poetry.  

He emailed me about it saying he was having those “what have I just done?” thoughts and feelings.

Those are the exact feelings most people would have in that situation, I suspect.  Not unlike playing for the first time at an open mic night, or releasing your first album.  I’ve released 11 albums, and I get that same uneasiness every time.

My response to him was that we all care what people think to some degree, so those feelings are normal.  I reassured him that with books especially, unlike music, people have to buy them and read them first to be able to judge them.  Most won’t, so all they will remember is the announcement that he wrote and published a book.  They might click the link, see the cover, look at the description, then not buy or read it.  

But the word they will spread to friends and acquaintances is "did you hear?...so-and-so wrote his first book...poetry I think" and then the recipients will at the very least remember that.  That's cool in its own right, whether you're out to impress or not, to have people know you wrote a book.  

Personally, I've actually known many people in my life who have written and published books of various kinds, and after becoming aware of it and choosing to not read them, I still remember that fact about those people, and I am indeed impressed they did it.

With music, it’s a little different: they might click the link, start streaming the first song (in the streaming service they already subscribe to), hastily decide it’s not their kind of music, then never stream any of it again…but they can say they checked it out and didn’t like it.  You can’t tell someone to not bother with a book if you haven’t read it yourself.

By the way, that author/poet is Ora Marr, and the poetry book title is "Infinite Eternity."  I haven’t read it, but I can attest to having been exposed to some of the content in draft form, and based on that alone, would highly recommend it:  

https://www.amazon.com/Infinite-Eternity-Poetic-Through-Forever/dp/B0CQZVMTFF

Click the link, see the cool cover, read the excellent & intriguing description, take it from there.

People have to start somewhere, and it could be that someday I will be able to say I gave a little boost with my recommendation that helped him gain some measure of fame, fortune, respect, etc.  You never know, but people tend to focus way too much on whether creative works are good or successful in some measurable way.  Art can relay information, beauty and emotion, which is in itself extremely valuable, regardless of any kind of commercial success it may have.

The main takeaway is lots of people talk about the ideas they have for books, or about the in-progress books they’re working on, but they never get finished or published.  At the very least, he was brave enough to not only give it a shot, but actually complete it, and now he’s an author/poet with a book you can buy.

The same can be said for lots of creative pursuits in these times, when the ability to post your creations inexpensively on the web is not only possible, but fairly easy.  From experience, it’s true for songwriting and music recording and/or live music performance.

It used to be that a record, tape or CD was like a book – you had to buy it to try it (unless they played it in a record store or on the radio and/or you could check it out from a library long after publication), but now most people pay 10 bucks/month to be able to listen to all music, so at least they can try your music without technically buying it first.

More and more, people write/record songs and don’t even bother with the formal distribution to streaming services since they wouldn’t make much money anyway.  Instead, they just post them for free – to public access places like Free Music Archive, Bandcamp, Soundcloud, or with visual content in the form of videos to YouTube.  

In a way, you might think it’s sad and unfair that creators don’t get paid, but if you think of it in a different way, it’s awesome that the creative works get heard at all, and that there are free and easy ways to get them out there for public consumption.  At least, it’s possible for them to be discovered and listened to for free, but that doesn’t always happen since there’s so much out there to choose from.

In that spirit, and the real reason I started this post, was I felt like making another recommendation to you by writing about a music website you might not know about that you might enjoy checking out.  It is:

https://youtune.glitch.me/

It's called Youtune, but if you google that, you'll never find it, so I think it's better to refer to it as Youtune Glitch Me, so you remember the URL.

What is it?

Snippets of "relatively unviewed original songs" posted to YouTube.  It's a curated random collection of songs that play one after another by a diverse group of individuals with varying levels of talent and skill who have posted video recordings of songs they've written and performed that haven't been played much if at all.  Most are live, some pre-recorded, some acapella, most solo, some bands.

Who created it?

A blogger whose blog is about "finding a more human side of the internet":

https://escapethealgorithm.substack.com/

How to use it?

Click the word ENTER, then just start listening, and trust me, eventually, you'll be pleasantly surprised and find something you like.  If impatient, you can click to proceed to the next song, but eventually, if you're like me, you become patient enough to wait for it to progress on its own.

Why do I find it interesting enough to share?

• My first impression, I'm almost ashamed to admit, was that this made me feel better about my own songwriting/performing attempts by comparison.  Not unlike going to open mic nights full of amateurs/novices/hobbyists where you think to yourself that you're better than some of them.

• My second impression was that there's both people who are arguably way worse than me out there, but also that there are people who are arguably way better than me out there whose songs have gone unnoticed.

• My third impression was that I was surprised at how much effort went into these songs and videos that were arguably not that good.  Again, I was almost ashamed at having that impression thinking "why did they bother spending so much time on something not very good?" considering I've put a lot of effort into writing and recording songs that are arguably not good either.

• My fourth impression, or thought, was a realization that it is highly likely that a lot of people out there in the world who have run across my songs have also had the same impression of me (surprised at the amount of effort I put into songs that are arguably not that good).

• My fifth impression, which may have been my first but took a while to surface into consciousness, was that there are a lot of people out there like me who are passionate about writing songs, and regardless of the degree to which they are aware that their songs are arguably not that good, they did it anyway.  

• Expanding on #5 above, this gave me a sense of belonging.  Makes me feel less alone.  It also made me realize that what they do and what I do are just a way to have fun being creative and like me, these people felt compelled to express themselves.  In a way, it's all good.  Just a bunch of apparently regular/normal/average people totally going for it and having a good time, whether they know how bad they are or not.

There's a lot of heartfelt passion in here and I love it.  Lots of people from all walks of life having fun making music.  Listen to this long enough, and you'll slowly change from thinking not everything is your cup of tea to appreciating the effort even if it's not the style you typically enjoy.  Indeed, this definitely highlights the human side of the internet.

It's a bunch of people like me who overcame the feeling of vulnerability and fear of embarrassment.  Most are probably aware they're not that good, but decided to write and perform their song anyway.  I realize I'm leading a horse to water here, that water being a book and cool website with videos of original songs you might like to drink in, or not, can't make you.  Overall, I can now understand that what we all have in common is the courage to try, and that is a beautiful thing!

Scott Cooley's "Stealth Wealth" In The Music Business

Got Stealth Wealth?  What is it, and do I have it?

Happy New Year!  Welcome (or welcome back) to my blog where I talk about myself and my feelings - as a form of "engaging" with you, my audience, as it relates to me "posing" as a solo artist and songwriter.  "They" say you're supposed to do that to get more true fans.  Imagine me holding up air quotes as I overuse them please, like Chris Farley used to do.  Feel free to comment, call, email, whatever.  By the way, I'm now on this promising new social butterfly network called Bluesky, so feel free to engage there as well:  https://bsky.app/profile/scottcooley.bsky.social

Feeling fortunate to have made it through another year, fortunate to still have albums and songs available for you to stream, fortunate to have readers of this blog.  I just realized I’ve been at this for quite a while now and have hit somewhat of a milestone.  Although I just noticed it due to time flying when having fun I guess, I’m thankful the music hasn’t gone completely unnoticed.  

Here I am, a songwriter and solo recording artist with a 20-year “career” of flying under the radar of the music business.  I think the world needs more like me, although Spotify may disagree.  Yes, hard to believe, but it was 2004 when I completed my first somewhat real album, Moon Dreams (which you can still find and stream by the way).  Now here it is the beginning of 2024, and I’m wondering to myself what do I have to show for it?

Not many people have discovered me yet, and I don’t have any financial assets to speak of as a result.  I have a great wife, great dogs, great extended family, a roof over my head, a car, some ski equipment, a modest home recording studio, and several musical instruments.  I have love in my life, I have friends, I have good health, and I have spiritual wealth.  Lots to be thankful for.  

Over the last two decades, I’ve had CD sales, download purchases, streams, follows, likes, subscribes, shares, recommendations, playlist adds, video views, compliments, blog reads, website visitors, and a lot of fun.  The end of a calendar year is a logical time to check your stats and do a little egosurfing, and last year I learned some interesting and weird things, for example:  I’m apparently a “top” Trop-Rock artist now on Last.fm, even making the first page for that genre.  Make of it what you will:  https://www.last.fm/tag/trop-rock/artists

Returning readers know I’m typically self-deprecating, but also occasionally a humble-bragger as evidenced in that last paragraph.  Yay me, great year.  Arguably, I’ve released two whole albums that might fall within the definition of trop-rock:  Missing The Boat and Lakeside Landing (which contained my “hit” Mackinac Island).  I’ve also released several other tropish songs here and there on other albums that may qualify.  Maybe there’s an upswing in Jimmy Buffett fans seeking out alternatives now that he has passed away, although his last album is still doing well.

My streaming stats did inexplicably ramp up a little in 2023 despite not releasing any new music, and although I arguably should never have attempted being a solo artist in the first place, let alone continue for 20 years, having the guts to do it and not give up do make me stand out.  Sometimes it feels like I’ve failed miserably, but I haven’t completely "bombed out" yet, and I do plan to “drop” more music this year again.

I think I bring value to music listeners by consistently making songs they enjoy.  People rely on other people’s recommendations of my music.  They check the streaming stats too before deciding what to listen to.  Good songs can perform poorly, and there’s a lot of variance between the different streaming services, but word-of-mouth eventually reveals some consensus (and trust).

It starts with people who know me.  People don’t trust radio and TV to tell them what music they should want to listen to anymore.  Streamers choose what they want now, and they’re choosing “local” music.  It used to be that macro breweries dominated, but now local craft breweries are getting the support.  It’s a similar concept with local investment in music.  It’s also the maturity levels and patience of the demographic.  Scott Cooley fans are not TikTok types with short attention spans who only want 30-second song snippets with dancing.

"I have no idea why I like Scott Cooley, but I do"

What have I learned about the people who like my music?  From the very small amount of information received from listeners, a theory has emerged:  It's people with a certain personality type more than anything else that make them get into my music.  You may know me personally, but take that out of the equation for a moment.

People who are open to trying new things start getting into my music slowly.  It might start with a recommendation from a person they trust.  Responses happen.

“Okay, I’ll see if I can get into it”

"Yeah, I'll try that"

"I'll have to check it out sometime"

"Still haven't gotten around to it yet, but I will eventually"

"Alright, maybe I'll give it a try"

Follow-up nudges and friendly reminders may occur, and initial uncertainty transitions to courage leading to the eventual hitting of that Play button.  Some first impressions are an overall amateur quality, a lot of acoustic guitar strumming, lo-fi production, somewhat sloppy instrument playing and definitely not the best singing voice.  Getting past those with a little patience, they find themselves appreciating that it's not fake-sounding or overly electronic, and the voice becomes uniquely interesting.  Continuing on with exploring the variety available, some people start to notice they feel better than when they started, but they're not sure why.

It's not for everyone.  It's not commercial.  It's not radio-friendly.  It's far from the mainstream.  Drastically different than what's popular.  Not movie-quality.  Different songs mean different things to different people.  It's not so much that you put yourself in Scott's shoes, it's more that you get carried away, lost in your own thoughts somehow.  There's just something about the combination of things contributing to the whole that becomes a recipe for improving your mood.  Or, as the French say, a certain “je ne sais quoi”.

Those same people, quite often, are not the types of music fans you would expect to get into this kind of music.  If you looked through their favorite music, you'd be surprised, but they like Scott Cooley anyway.  Like any music really, they can only handle so much at a time, and that's why an album's worth in under one hour is just about right.  Favorites emerge that they keep going back to, but some of those mental lists can change over time as more discovery occurs.  Not expecting to like any of it, they do, but are not able to explain it.  It's almost like becoming a fan was an unconscious, accidental thing they couldn't help.

It has been reported that listening to Scott Cooley makes people feel euphoric.  Fans say the music makes them feel relaxed and happy.  They’ve said that the music causes self-reflection and mind-wandering.  Some individuals are more sensitive to it than others, and those with the personality trait of "openness" are the most strongly affected.  If you're one of them, thanks for being open!  It takes a while to warm up to my music, I'm sure.

Those who are open to new experiences are most likely to experience mood enhancement, and a feeling of being "in the zone" or a highly absorbed mental state of deep engagement.  Maybe it's the melodies, the instrumentation, the lyrical messages, the craftsmanship, or the “unique” voice.  Overall, it's an allure that is appealing and even therapeutic, but remains a mystery.  This might be hilarious for you to hear, I realize that, but from what I've been able to gather, I believe it to be true.

What I’ve come to learn is that it’s not unlike how I myself have become a fan of other artists.  It gets suggested to me, I get around to it eventually – sometimes after being bugged again about it, I like only a few songs early on, then I go back for more, then the deeper I get, the more I like some of the tracks that didn’t initially appear to be popular, and next thing I know I’m devouring the full back catalog and creating my own favorites-by-that-artist playlist.  The process may span a whole year as time allows.

It's also not unlike romantic relationships.  I think as an artist I’m probably viewed more as a long-haul serious relationship type that people have to be ready for where the love grows over time vs. the lust-at-first sight immediate attraction that leads to a one-night stand, 1 hit wonder type (even though I’m admittedly an artist with 1 song that drastically out-performs all the others).  To me, that lasting impact is more valuable.  If I’m the long-lasting, deeper love type of artist to people, that’s real wealth to me, not necessarily lucrative for the wallet, but definitely for the soul.

Slow-but-steady growth in measurable popularity over time without any marketing at all is what is happening, and it feels good because it’s honest and real and without cheating or gimmicks.  It’s what I’ve always wanted, so it’s rewarding to have people’s positive impressions turn them into “influencers” in a way.  I understand people take their time diving into my catalog, and some eventually become superfans of sorts who find things they like about most of my songs.

"Stealth Wealth" is a name of a phenomenon in the music industry.  Upon hearing it for the first time, you might think it means something different than what most understand it to mean.  When I think stealth, I think sneaky or going undetected.  When I think wealth, I think having a lot of money and possessions.

Its intended meaning as I understand it is understated success with a focus on purity of craft over popularity.  Something like that anyway.

I think I might qualify.  As a conventionally-unsuccessful songwriter and recording artist, I definitely don't have material or monetary wealth, but if I did, I wouldn't want the world to know.  I'm not a show-off.  As a non-performing songwriter and recording artist, I don't seek out the spotlight, and don't crave attention or fame.  I do have a passion for the craft, and I have the freedom of doing whatever I want without a label telling me how to be more popular.

I would love to have more people discover and appreciate my music of course, which is why I release it publicly, but I wouldn't want to be a celebrity in any way because I don't think I would like it at all.  I prefer to keep a low profile, so much so that I don't do anything to market my music at all.  I'm a private person, and enjoy a simple, modest lifestyle.  I don’t try to be popular at all, I just keep doing what I do.

Don't get me wrong:  if I all of a sudden had more financial wealth, I would do things I love more often.  For example, instead of occasionally being an invited guest on other people's boats, I might consider getting one of my own.  I would definitely be able to afford skiing more often and tennis.  Travel to the national parks, sail around the great lakes - those would be my vacation choices if I could afford it.  Maybe a better house and car, but nothing too flashy.  I wouldn't want my life to be drastically different.

I'd probably get better home recording equipment and instruments, and if enough money materialized, I'd even book time in a real recording studio, maybe hire real pros to help make my songs sound pristine too.  That said, I really do enjoy trying to do it all myself, so I'd have to think about that more.

I'd like some validation in the form of more listeners, sure, but I'd like to maintain some anonymity like I have now.  I wouldn't mind more fortune without the fame, but I'm not willing to compromise, to follow consumer-driven trends or cheat to get there.  I want my music to stay authentic, and I want authentic fans.  I’m not out to sell tickets to shows or to sell t-shirts or sell NFTs whatever those are, so I’m strictly limited to delivering studio albums that people like listening to.

I'd rather have a few passionate fans than many casual ones.  Let's face it, I'm not the type of artist who would ever gain widespread mainstream commercial success even if I had a team with an unlimited budget for promotion, publicity, advertising, marketing, etc.  I've been told by some of my more devoted fans that my music reflects deep thinking, and takes listeners on emotional journeys, so although I know I'll never top any charts, more listeners like those would be great.

Yeah, I'm almost intentionally understated.  Actually, not almost.  I am.  I could plug in and wail on electric guitar, use way more effects, and belt out the vocals more, but I prefer not to.  It's just how my style presents itself.  I am passionate about writing and recording songs my way, and I've stuck with it for a considerable amount of time because I love doing it, and not for topping charts or winning awards or getting famous in any way.

Now that I've typed all that, I must admit that when I hear that people who like my music are excited about me releasing more, or even that they've recommended me to a friend, I get excited about that.  I just really love the creative process, feel lucky to have a creative outlet in my life, and even more lucky that there are a few of you out there who appreciate it.  If you're one of them, thanks again!  

I'm a person who has never really found anything I love doing that I could potentially make money doing, except writing songs.  I have made a little doing it, but never enough to do it full-time.  Not even close.  I happened to have found myself somewhat involved in a business that is notoriously challenging to do well in financially, so I've had to supplement with work I have not have much of a passion for to pay the bills.  In my time in the music business, it's been increasingly competitive despite lowered barriers to entry.  I know this thing I love doing is something I’m not particularly great at doing.  This is the situation I find myself in.

I’ve previously boasted about an award t-shirt I won, and some stats I became aware of, minuscule as they are, but it’s relative and I’m not into comparisons, so I’ve felt uneasy about doing it.  If I attain increased measurable conventional success – like more streams or whatever – in the future, would I brag about it?  Maybe a little, via an “understated” post in this blog probably, but that’s about it.  😊  The purpose would be that it might help me get more real fans somehow.

Overall, I feel fortunate to have this hobby, fortunate I’m able to make my music publicly discoverable and consumable, and very fortunate to have some true fans out there.  For these reasons, I’m already wealthy, just not monetarily.  I’ve got so many things in my personal life I’m thankful for that have nothing to do with money.  So, by typing that, now I’m making you aware of it, which is not very stealth.  So, I guess the answer is no, I don’t have stealth wealth in the music industry, but if I ever attain any, I know the outward appearance might help me get a bigger audience, so I’ll announce it, and you’ll see me on the slopes and lakes more often.  There, I’ve arrived at the honest answer, finally.

 

To Scott: You Won’t Get Paid Next Year For Your “Art”. Merry Christmas! (From Spotify)

The Inevitable Return Of Music Gatekeeping And Long-Tail Culling Will Cause My Demise As A Solo Artist

I sometimes read articles about the music industry, since I consider myself somewhat of a musician.  I'm a pretender, I admit it.  As someone who writes and records songs at home, I've been releasing albums for many years now as if I'm a real solo artist.  As a result, I'm always curious to learn about how I could get more people interested in my music, how to increase the chances people will find it online and stream it and enjoy it.  I would like fair compensation for my creative works, like we all would.

Most people are probably aware that in recent years it has become increasingly easy to do what I do.  Inexpensive recording equipment and music distribution services have allowed nearly anyone to get their music on Apple Music, Spotify, Amazon Music, and YouTube Music, right there alongside the likes of popular megastars like The Beatles or Taylor Swift, whether signed to a record label or not.

I am a huge fan of YouTube Music myself, but am glad my music is available on all of the major ones.  If you cared to, you could find information online that would show labels, distributors, publishers, and audio streaming services arguably don't want to have to pay artists.  The labels seem to have lost the most power, and want it back, so naturally want to convince the streaming service providers to make changes that benefit them.  Like politicians, they seem to say one thing and do another.  Make promises they don't intend to keep.  They want to cut costs wherever possible, and if they can devalue the creators along the way, and get away with paying them less, they will.  

The whole music business is full of companies that claim they don't make enough money, and they're constantly laying off employees and trying to find ways to pay artists less, while claiming to want to pay them more.  Somehow, artist-friendly companies like Spotify claim I wasn't going to meet the royalty threshold by the distributor to get paid anyway, so might as well make a policy to give my pennies to the artists with the 1,000+/yr streamed songs.  Doesn't seem very friendly.

Such companies probably don't consider me an artist to begin with.  They might call what I make "noise".  My music might not be "art" depending on who is judging it.  It's probably amateurish and not high-quality to most.  Poor singing voice, sloppy instrument playing, lo-fi production.  Anyway, it was already practically impossible to get noticed, and the powers that be are now making it even harder.  

Not long ago I read there are 100,000 new songs uploaded to those types of services every day.  As a result, the record labels don't make as much money as they used to, and so now they are going to propose increased "gatekeeping" (more control over whose music gets released) and get the aforementioned music streaming platforms to agree to it.

Their pitch will include a focus on improving the music streaming experience for the consumers.  Fewer choices, higher quality music to choose from, more consumer satisfaction.  It's really about getting a bigger slice of the pie for the superstars they've signed, and I doubt they care that there's a moral dilemma in kicking and keeping people like me out.

Gatekeepers at Spotify have already returned, and others are likely to follow suit.  They dominate music streaming.  They’re like the government if you want people to hear your song nowadays.  This isn’t China, where you can’t criticize the government, and it seems they’re wielding a bit too much power while constantly complaining they’re not profitable.  As a solo artist who also claims I’m not profitable, their recent changes aren’t helping.

On Spotify in 2024, if I release a song and it doesn't get streamed 1,000 times in a year, I don't get paid.  Rewarding popularity is fine, but not paying for creative works is not fine.  Everyone wants everything to be free.  Everyone has a cousin who downloaded all the music ever recorded back in the Napster days who will put them on a USB drive for you.  I'd rather pay.  

Music streaming services, like any tech company, can just change their terms whenever they want and you can choose to play by their new rules or not.  Whether it’s an artist’s first release or not, until they achieve a certain amount of popularity, they are basically distributing their songs for free streaming, just like they would on SoundCloud, Bandcamp, or Free Music Archive.  

Tracks must have reached at least 1,000 streams in the previous 12 months in order to generate recorded royalties.  Less than that don't reach artists because they supposedly do not surpass distributor's minimum payout thresholds.  The reason is to increase the payments to tracks that do reach at least 1,000 streams in 12 months and deter artists from gaming the system with more tracks per album and more frequent track and album releases, I guess.

The powers that be in the “professional” music business probably freak out any time a DIY artist does well without them.  The bar to music creation and distribution has been lowered for a long time now, and record company executives are probably having meetings about devising methods to separate the wheat from the chaff, but at the same time discussing their fear of missing out on signing talent that they could have “nurtured”.

Who says I need nurturing by a record company?  With their lemming mentalities of copying whatever the latest successful trends are, their “support” would turn me into a cookie-cutter mainstream artist.  They would preach that I should respond to every social media comment about my music to “engage” with the fanbase.  They’d have me lip-syncing for sure, doing short tik-tok videos and AI remixes of my own songs, or whatever they think is the next new cool thing.

Everyone with a computer – or even just a smartphone nowadays – can create their own beats and tracks and rap profanity over them and then submit them for streaming on Spotify, but that doesn’t mean they are skilled in the craft of songwriting.  The record company “experts” say they are not deserving, legitimate creators because they threaten their slice of the royalty revenue.  They complain about a wasteland of vapid garbage tracks uploaded by novices who do not possess innate talent. 

They probably don’t like a lesser-known DIY artist like me who writes emotional music from the heart not caring how many streams I get or how many playlists I’m on.  I don’t pay any attention to what is popular at all because I don’t care.  I contribute to what they see as over-saturation by hobbyist amateurs and they’re trying to find a way to weed me out and regain their industry gatekeeper status and giant profits.

The funny thing is, today’s record companies seem lazy, never taking chances, and simply waiting for artists to create their own buzz before pouncing.  If they can’t sign up the next viral sensation like that average Joe guy with the beard who wrote a song complaining about the rich men controlling his county in Virginia or wherever, they’re going to criticize him.  Then if they do sign him to a deal, they’re going to ruin his appeal.

I would hereby like to criticize them.  The major labels are the biggest contributors to the deluge of watered-down music in the world.  Ever since the 1970s, music has seemed to go downhill.  The fake drum loops of the BeeGees and polished perfection of ABBA in the disco era led to the use of drum machines and synthesizers and rap in the 80s, on through to today where virtual instruments, quantization and auto-tuned vocals are the norm.

Music tastes are subjective, and advances in music technology have always happened and will never stop.  Generally, it makes music more palatable, but too much of it makes you wish you could transport yourself back in time to enjoy music live and acoustic and real.  Pop music today is drastically different from pop music when I was a kid.  People used to play real instruments and write songs with melodies.  Not as much anymore.

It's easy to complain, easy to say each generation is worse than before, easy to be an old nostalgic person yearning for the way things used to be.  Hits are hits, unless manufactured by marketers manipulating the system.  Payola has always existed, paying for fake streams, appearance of popularity causing more actual popularity.  You like what you like, and that’s okay.  Music was fed to me by radio, and that shaped what young people liked, and shaped my tastes.

For an enthusiast/hobbyist like me, the streaming royalties are nominal anyway.  Although I've sold some physical CDs, there's no demand for them anymore.  Streaming is so convenient.  By now I am possibly what they call a more established "long-tail" artist, having released 11 albums so far, but the more of me there are out there, the less we all get.

As a self-releasing singer/songwriter "niche" artist, mainstream popularity was never going to be in the cards for me, nor was getting signed to a record deal even at an independent label.  Lets face it:  even in the pre-digital music world, the middlemen gatekeepers would not have let me in.  AI curation in the future will limit exposure to artists like me somehow.  They'll make sure I don't get suggested or recommended in those "you may also like..." lists.

Inevitably, the music streaming services will have more quality control in the future, using algorithms to weed out the really bad music, and they'll also probably hire young people to be music screeners.  It is highly likely my music will not suit their taste in music.  They'll probably start charging way more to get your songs on the services as well.  The nominal pennies I would've made next year will go to those who get (or purchase) more streams than me.  Merry Christmas more popular artists, from Scott.

What young 20-something kid Music Screener / Curator / Sounds Like Recommendation Programmer is going to like an artist who primarily strums an acoustic guitar, doesn't have a great singing voice, and is an old white guy with obviously home-recorded music?  I see my future, and as a pretend musician in the first place, I won't survive.  It will be increasingly difficult for people to find my music online, so there will not be any lasting impact at all.

I'm not giving up yet, but I'm realizing the end is near.  The writing is on the wall. The beginning of the powers that be weeding me out, not letting me in the gate.  It was fun for a while to have my music be "out there" and discoverable, and to know that a few people did discover some of it, and a few of them liked some of it, and a few of those looked for more and looked forward to more.  It's a strange industry that has been through significant changes, and at least I can say I was a part of it for a while, on the fringes anyway.

I recently thought I’d check my popularity on Spotify.  For song streams, they say they have (suspiciously) ended support for data leading up to the year 2020.  When I check my “all time” stats, here’s my top ten:

#         Title                             Streams

1. Mackinac Island                25,884

2. The River of No Return             281

3. I Did a Bad Thing                     251

4. Puttin' Up a Pole Barn             125

5. Whatever Floats Your Boat     101

6. Smitten With the Mitten              89

7. Shred Betty                              66

8. Algoma Central Blues              52

9. Cherchez La Femme              51

10. In My El Camino                      43

Looks like unless I become a 2-hit wonder next year, I’ll only get paid for one song, and not the other 140 Scott Cooley songs you can stream on Spotify.  Maybe my “hit” Mackinac Island will continue to bring in a few fractions of pennies for a while, but the writing is on the wall.  Thanks Spotify.  Merry Christmas.  They tell you that you likely won’t get paid at all except for that one song probably, but then they send you a “wrapped” gift link thing to make you feel great about it with a bunch of other meaningless stats that don’t monetarily amount to anything.  Hit play to watch me click through it:

 

Just Some Guy Who Will Die Eventually...Who Likes Trying To Write Songs

Someday, I won't be alive anymore.  The bleak thought of the grim reaper coming for us creeps in from time to time, so why not write about it to my non-existent readers?  It's what you do when you have your own blog.  You do it because you can.  Just like you write and record songs because you can, releasing them to non-existent fans of your music.  There's always the possibility readers and fans will materialize, and if not while you're alive, maybe after death.  Hope.

I will be remembered by a few close family and friends, some of whom knew I liked to write and record songs....and then write about writing and recording once in a while. Beyond them, there are some other people out there in the world who became aware of my music somehow, listened to it, and actually liked it. I can't tell you how much this pleases me. Maybe my music will still be findable for a while after I'm not around anymore, and I like knowing that. Some of it I am proud of, and until that day comes as it does for us all, I will have had a really fun creative hobby I'm thankful for.

 
You think about these kinds of things occasionally when you're an aging pretend solo artist.  Aside from that, some of those people may have also discovered I had the boldness to create and maintain a web site about myself as a solo artist, and further, a personal blog I wrote about my hobby. These probably won't be around long after my demise, and eventually, only a few scraps of information about me will remain.

 
A guy with a bad singing voice who could barely strum some basic chords on a guitar wrote what he thought were pretty good songs, recorded them, and then released them as albums every couple years for a couple decades. Bold is probably the best word to describe all of this, and I've been bold during a time when changes to the music industry made it possible - inexpensive home recording equipment, the internet, aggregator distributors, streaming tech, etc.  

I haven't been fearless, but I faced the fear and released the music anyway...consistently.  Bold might be another way of saying things like: doesn't know when to give up, confident without a reason to be, blissfully ignorant of lack of talent, or should've been embarassed or ashamed, but wasn't.

 
I took advantage while it was possible to do it all myself and get it out into the world. The powers that be are certainly already having meetings about how to curtail people like me in the future. I'm sure the gatekeepers will exert their strength again soon. But while such a thing was possible, I had the guts to give it a try, be vulnerable, put my music out there, all while knowing it wasn't anywhere close to being as good as music that I myself enjoy listening to.

 
I've done all this at a time when the hard rock music I grew up on was fading from popularity. Also during this time, it was hard to find any rock music where the strumming of an acoustic guitar was the primary instrument. Instead, I released music during a couple of decades in which rap and hip-hop and electronic music rose in popularity and dominated. I basically did the complete opposite of what a record company would have wanted me to do.

From the scraps of remaining information about me, if there is still any interest, curious fans might wonder why there's no live footage of me performing shows. Well, I never played shows because I know I'm not very good, and I only release recordings because I can make myself sound a little bit better than if I were playing live. I did play live in the late 80s & early 90s for a few years, but it was before the internet and cell phones caught on. It's a unique hobby in that the writing and recording parts that I enjoy can be done from your home.

 
I'm basically a private person and probably an introvert who doesn't like to venture out in public much, and I don't crave attention. I did love the applause and compliments when I did play in front of audiences, but I had stage fright, and I knew bars full of mostly people I knew who were drunk was only "polite" applause and not that real.

 
When you don't ever play live anywhere, no one is ever going to write about you, and I'm not going to submit my music to hopefully get some music blogger to review it. If someone out there wants to find my music, listen to it, and then write about it and post it online, they can. They haven't yet, and probably won't. If it's positive, yeah, of course I wouldn't mind knowing about it, but if negative, it might crush me.

 
It felt great and like I didn't really deserve it at the same time, and I realized I wasn't ever going to be a great performer or entertainer or band member. I was realistic about my chances of ever going beyond being a guy in some lame local rock band playing covers, and there wasn't any scene I was aware of for a solo acoustic guitar guy playing original songs. So, there, now the curiosity will be satisfied if people find this old blog post after I'm not around anymore.

 
If I could talk to my younger self fresh out of college in my early 20s, I might suggest heading to Nashville and trying to just be a songwriter. That's the part of music I love most and would have the best chance of doing. I would tell that self to get a day job while not giving up on writing and pitching for at least a decade. If that didn't pan out, maybe some other job in the music business would present itself that I thought would be interesting and that I could be good at.

 
How to sum up how I think I'll be remembered for a while? Some guy who liked to write songs, started releasing his home demos of them, couldn't sing or play very well, or be a recording engineer for that matter, but just did it anyway, for a couple decades, and didn't give up because it was an inexpensive, fun hobby. None of his songs ever became popular, hardly anyone ever found out about him or his music, and his songs weren't that great, unfortunately, but he was a decent guy who had fun trying.

 
That's probably just about it for the public persona stuff. Oh, and he was bold enough to write a web site and blog about himself as a solo artist too. He thought it would help, but it didn't. Oh well. If you never knew me personally, the music might live on for a while, along with a few photographs, but that's about it. Birth and death dates, basic stats, an obit, etc.

 
It's all somewhat a posing, pretending thing, but on the other hand, the songs and music are real, at least for now, they're still floating out there, ready to be found and listened to and liked and recommended. Some of that has actually happened, and it makes me feel good to know it. My music is not for everyone, and I'm not sure what it is people like about for the ones who do. I can only imagine that they appreciate that I'm just some guy - a self-taught, do-it-all-myself guy, who just decided to go for it.

 
Maybe you can hear what I'm not writing so far, which is that what I'd really like is for someone to actually say they like my songs and music, that they hear great potential in them...beyond the few close family and friend politeness compliments that are guaranteed for everyone with a creative hobby. Strangers writing publicly that they hear something special that I can read while still alive. Maybe that is the pipe dream I'm wishing for but not admitting.

 
It's probably not in the cards for me to have a posthumous increase in popularity like Nick Drake who went from unnoticed obscurity in life to people showing up at his grave and childhood home and bugging his sister and stuff like that starting a decade after he died until today. 

 Highly unlikely, but isn't there a part of all of us who can admit now while living that such a similar thing happening to us after we're dead would at least be just a little bit cool in some way?  Am I self-deprecating as a shield for potential negative reviews, so I let it be known I never thought I was better than I really was?  I wish I didn't care about how I'll be remembered, but admit I do a little bit.

 
I have a style of my own. I don't know how to describe it though. Just a guy with a background and influences like everyone else, having a good time with a hobby, but without a clue what makes it interesting to others. I wish others would describe it for me, but no one writes about my music, nor have I ever asked anyone to. It would be interesting to learn why people like it and how they would describe it. I literally have no idea.

 
Maybe that's why I still do it though - because I don't have any critics bringing me down and making me want to quit. I'll keep at it until I die probably. I've been a quitter in several other areas of my life, but so far, not with songwriting.  It's an enjoyable quest to keep trying to write a really good song someday. Actually, I don't try at all, I just write when inspired to do so without any goal to intentionally write a good one, but it would be cool if I did accidentally. The dream lives on.

Feeling Like An Outsider

When you're an amateur songwriter and solo artist like me who releases music to stream in the same places where you can stream the professional mainstream artists, you definitely feel like a pretender and an outsider.

Could my music be "outsider" music?  Maybe.  There are so many styles of music and genres and sub-genres out there, and this is another one I've become more aware of recently.  It's a way of describing music that borrows from the term "outsider art" which describes art made by people who didn't have formal training and didn't hang out with any other artists.  I say that in past tense because usually their art was discovered after they died. 

Here are a bunch of aspects of outsider music and my thoughts about how if at all, my music might qualify:

• The "Un"s:  Untrained, unpopular, uncommercial, underground, unconventional, unwilling to collaborate, unintential renegade, under the radar, untalented, unsophisticated, etc..  These could all apply to my music I suppose in one way or another.

• No traditional experience:  Other than playing in a few very short-lived bands and/or duos with only a handful of actual paying gigs in bars in my early 20s, and a few public performances at open mic nights over the years, I've only played live in front of family and friends.  My musical experience has been very infrequent and sporadic in that sense, and I never really practice at all.  However, I've consistently written and recorded songs by myself for a few decades now.

• Lo-fi overlap:  Outsider music is not typically made in a real recording studio.  I record everything myself in my house using cheap equipment I've purchased, and it's definitely independent and unprofessional.  I have an acoustic, analog sound but I use some digital technology.  The production quality is low, and I don't use much quality control.  Leaving in accidental imperfections is a deliberate choice for me.

• Lack of self-awareness:  I'm self-conscious about my music, I know it's not anywhere close to the popular mainstream, yet I do it anyway.  Releasing my music to the world despite being laughably incompetent is to me just being bold.  I am afraid of the vulnerability, but I've consistently concquered that fear by hitting the Submit button to distribute the music.

• Self-taught:  I took a few piano lessons as a child, then was permitted to quit by my parents after requesting it.  I also took an Intro to Guitar course my Senior year in college, and got a B, and didn't learn much except a few blues boogie patterns.  In both cases, the teaching approach was to learn to read music notation first, which was intimidating and overwhelming to me.  I also took Intro to Poetry, which may have helped me understand some basics of lyrics, but it was before I learned to play guitar.

• Naive:  This means no formal education or training, which I just covered in the previous bullet.  I admit my music is rough, raw, unsophisticated and primitive - all adjectives for naive art and naive music - but I've not been completely isolated from listening to music, which I've done a lot of.  Also, I have very occasionally jammed with other musicians and learned from them.  I've also had the internet, which I've used to look up a few music-related and songwriting-related bits of information.

• Childlike qualities:  I have some songs that might be considered children's music, and I know some children like some of my music.  I definitely have some novelty songs, and my lyrics are occasionally funny.  I'm not burdoned by a lot of knowledge about music, and I'm definitely an immature person even though I'm a few years away from senior citizen age.

• Mental illness:  Marketing-wise it makes for a better story if a musician has a serious diagnosis like schizophrenia, but I have no such diagnosis to report.  It would be easy to make a joke about this one, but there seems to be an undercurrent of this in creative people who are not in much contact with the conventions of mainstream culture.  I am not a part of any sort of music scene at all.  I definitely make my music in total isolation, and I have experienced some mental health struggles.

• Posthumous discovery:  Not many people have discovered my music and it is possible more will discover it after my death.  I would like that, if I were able to become aware of it somehow, but who knows?

All of those points could be construed as either negative or positive depending on your perspective.  The positives of outsider music are:

• Complete creative control:  Most music people listen to is the result of major corporate record labels following trends and marketing plans to make a profit.  Sometimes even governments pay to train kids to be superstars like these K-Pop artists.  Photoshopped and focus-grouped.  Mine is not "music by committee".  Mine has no outside influence at all.

• Authenticity:  I write and record my music exactly how I intend it.  I'm influenced by music I've heard before, but don't ever intentionally try to copy anyone.  I get it close to how I imagined it as best I can with my limited abilities.  I don't release it if I don't find something about it pleasing to me.  Whether you find it aesthetically pleasing or not, is a matter of taste and philosophy.

I conclude that I just don't care.  If I label my music as such, and it attracts fans of The Shaggs or Captain Beefheart or Larry "Wild Man" Fischer or Daniel Johnston, then that would be cool and all, but the music journalists and critics who come up with the definitions of these labels would probably say I don't qualify, and that is also cool with me.  

Although I love outdoor recreation, like skiing, sailing, hiking, and even playing music outside, I spend most of my time indoors.  I am likely an introvert if you care about such things, I think because I crave time to myself.  I know when I've hung around other songwriters and musicians I've definitely felt like an outsider, and I prefer to just do my own thing alone.

Don't get me wrong though - in the highly unlikely event that my music all of a sudden became popular and some record company or manager thought I could sell tickets to shows and tour and suggested I put a band together - I would do it in a heartbeat.  I'd find a drummer, bass player, and keyboard player, practice to learn my songs, then go out and play and love it.  Then I'd no doubt get tired of the traveling and decide to take a break, but they wouldn't want me to.  Pressures would set in.  If you watch music documentaries or read interviews with popular musical acts, you know how the story goes.  It would be fun for a while though!  As an arguable outsider musician, fortunately I have no such pressure.  :)

Acoustic Guitar Solos - Why They Are An Important Part of the Scott Cooley Signature Sound

As a music consumer, I love perfect music that uses electric instruments, don't get me wrong, but as a musician, I prefer unplugging, especially for solos.  I know this drastically goes against mainstream music trends.  Boston's first album was one of my first albums I owned as a kid and I loved their perfect sound with awesome electric guitar solos, harmony guitar, and electric organ.  Every song was flawless and sounded like it was from the future.

As a musician though, there are times when you are sitting around in a basement, living room or garage with at least one other person and you're both jamming together on acoustic guitars.  Inevitably, in such sessions, you will get an opportunity to play a solo during an instrumental break section of a song.  

You're so excited about your chance to really shine that you grip the pick a little too hard and overplay a bit because you're a tad overenthusiastic.  The results can often be underwhelming as compared to what you imagined in your mind because you picked too harshly, which is an easy mistake to make with an acoustic guitar.  

Although I'm not sure how to explain exactly what is going on, but there's like an unintentional muting that can happen.  In these moments, you find your fingers press down too hard on the strings too.  Somehow you sort of want it to sound more like an electric guitar solo, and to stand out volume-wise over the other acoustic guitars, but overdoing it takes away some desired sustain so you overcompensate for that subconsciously. To me, despite being sonically imperfect and possibly undesirable, it is actually pleasing to my ears.

I am of the opinion that the aforementioned sound is more fun to listen to than an electric guitar solo played through an amp with effects.  You can hear the purity and joy and desire in there.  There's a raw sound of passion, and it produces fist-pumping adrenaline in the listener, which I suspect releases a rush of dopamine.

It's times like these that are often the most memorable as a musician participant, and for the audience.  Through my own informal research and testing and observation over many years, I've come to believe there's some honest truth to this theory, despite a lack of any real scientific proof.  When someone wants to rock harder than they're capable of - either with their technical ability or their equipment - you can hear that.  It's hard to explain but you know it when you hear it.  I happen to love that, whatever it is.

This is why I prefer to record such moments and incorporate them as key ingredients in my signature sound.   Yes, it has an amateur quality to it, but there's something about hearing great potential in your mind of what could be or could've been that is arguably better than a fully realized perfect version with high production value.  I argue it IS better to listen to this way.

We can't all play smooth and fast on acoustic like Billy Strings, and we all have our own style and influences.  In the 70s and 80s, I grew up on what is now called classic rock, but there was also punk, disco, and new wave in there, so it was confusing.  The music I liked best had great guitar solos, which may not happen much anymore in modern music, but I also loved acoustic music, and in my mind I've always had similarly weird ideas that acoustic music doesn't have to limited to folk and can have drums and bass too.  I also think leaving in a few imperfections in a recording can be fine.  Happy accidents.

I actually like knowing my signature sound makes people envision being at a house concert, or just hanging around their musician friends jamming in someone's house.  Informal, intimate, not doctored up too much with technology.  Maybe it's my fond memories of such times that skew my preference for the acoustic guitar solo, making me think it's cooler than it really is, so I can consider that.  

In the meantime, the best advice I've ever heard about being a songwriter/recording artist is to simply do what pleases you.  If you yourself like it, chances are others probably will too.

A Would-Be Songwriter's Conundrum

It’s confusing to know whether you’re a songwriter or not.  It’s difficult to know what the qualifications are, as there is no one authoritative source that defines such things.  The question is one of earning money and popularity.  You can tell people you are one, and then you can worry if that is being dishonest.  You don’t want to be dishonest.

Since you’re reading this, you likely already have an idea that I’m one of the many people in the world who write and record songs that you can listen to via web streaming.  I used to tell people I did it as a hobby, and then technology evolved to allow me to offer my recordings of my songs to the world.  Does this make me more of a songwriter, or am I still just a would-be songwriter?

I like to write songs and record them, and I’ll probably keep doing it because it’s fun.  I shouldn’t care if I’m self-taught, and I shouldn’t care if I can safely say it’s something I know how to do or not.  A part of me feels like a poser and questions the legitimacy of what I do.  I can’t help it that my thoughts drift off to wondering whether I’m faking it or not, whether I’m a fraud, whether I can claim to be one or not.

You can write a song and play it, that’s one thing.  Another is you can record it.  The permanent record serves as proof.  It can be an art and a craft.  There are basic elements songs should have like a melody, and unless an instrumental composition, lyrics and rhyme.  Some of the definitions you can look up say in addition to writing the music and the words, you can especially be considered a songwriter if the song is popular.  Defining popularity is another conundrum.

I call myself a songwriter, but a part of me wonders if I’m qualified to be able to say that.  I write songs, record them, and then distribute them to music streaming services.  As someone who takes an autonomous, do-it-yourself approach, I produce and publish music independently from commercial record labels.  If I were young, I would try to achieve both professional status in some way and popularity with my songs.

I would definitely feel more confident telling people I am a songwriter if I achieved any of these:

• Hit:  I wrote and recorded a song that had mainstream popularity

• Signed:  I wrote and recorded songs but was signed to a record label

• Staff:  I was a staff writer under employment contract for a publisher

• Cut:  I could say I wrote a song that a label-signed artist recorded

• Placement:  I could say I wrote a song used in a movie or TV show

I’ve done none of the above, so you could say I’m definitely not a professional, but as an amateur using a digital aggregator distribution service with my own publishing and label, I have actually earned some royalty income.

From my humble home studio near Flint, Michigan, I’m not in the ideal situation for going after any of those.  I’ll never be a great singer, so if I was advising my 20-yr. old self, I’d tell me to move to Nashville.

It’s important to focus on what you do have going for you though.  Occasionally taking stock in what you’re good at, and what you have to offer, can get you fired up to keep doing more of it.  It also presents an opportunity to tell people what makes you unique and stand out among the others.  Some people have more natural abilities than others, and you can’t be good at everything, but it’s fun to try.  Although delegation and collaboration and specialization can have benefits for songwriters, it is very satisfying to be able to say you did everything yourself without anyone’s help when it comes to anything creative.

Some things I’m proud of:

• I‘m the sole writer of my songs

• I write the music and the lyrics

• I play all of the instruments

• I’m the beatmaker

• I’m the top-liner

• I’m the arranger

• I’m the producer

• My house is my studio

• I’m the recording engineer

• I’m the mixing engineer

• I’m the mastering engineer

• I’m the video producer

• I’m the publisher

• I’m the label

• I’m the marketer

• My own webmaster

• I’ve released over 100 songs

I am self-taught in all of the above!

I don’t co-write, and in this era, in which a famous artist like Beyonce lists 20 different songwriters on a single song, it is somewhat unusual.

I’ve had no lessons other than a single Intro To Guitar course my Senior year in college, yet I can play rhythm, lead, slide, fingerpicking and bass guitar.  Piano, organ, harmonica, ukulele, mandolin, marimba, drums and percussion too – all me, all self-taught.

I’ve never used a real recording studio, and I’ve never had another musician play on any of my songs…except accordion by my wife on a few.

I would be willing to bet that even though I think figuring out how to do all of the above myself makes me special, there are millions of others out there.  The world is a big place.  Many of them are probably also good at skiing.  Nonetheless, I think you should be impressed, because looking back, I’m impressed I figured all this out too.  I’m not sure why all of this seemed interesting to me, but it did.

As you can see, I am a lot more than just a songwriter, and being able to do all of these related things might help my case for being able to rightfully call myself a songwriter.  

I think the quantity thing has to score me a few points too in favor of being able to self-apply the songwriter to my identity.  A lot of people with a guitar or piano will tell you they’ve written hundreds of songs, but there’s no proof.  I have actually publicly released and formally published and copyrighted around 150 original songs.  You can find the proof online, so there’s that.  One could argue that I’m quite prolific.

Popularity is another thing.  How to define it?  All you can do is compare the streaming stats in this day and age.  It’s relative.  Some of my songs have a measure of popularity then, and some of them are mor e popular than others, and some of them are more popular than other songwriter/artists’ songs.

Let’s face it:  Although I’ve made a little money, I’m not a professional.  Although I’ve had some streams, I don’t have any real popularity.  People wouldn’t say either of those about me, and I don’t say them about myself.  Not a pro, not popular.

You can’t argue against those two statements, and being a popular pro is a part of most definitions of ‘songwriter’, so therefore, I am not a songwriter.

Being good is another thing, the whole judgement thing, appreciation being objective and all that.  Everyone has close friends and family who dish out compliments about their creative art projects.  Polite applause at the open mic night, the gig at the bar filled with people who know you.  Sales and streams can be measured, yet we all suspect that record company promotion and marketing and advertising can manufacture success through hype and create popularity when it isn’t necessarily deserved or organic.

You can write what you think are songs, you can play them, you can record them, you can even try to sell them on the internet.  You think they not only might qualify as being actual songs, but also you think they might even be pretty good.  You wonder if a great singer could really make them sound like great songs, like way better than even you could've imagined when you wrote them.  

You wonder if such a thing might even be a realistic possibility.  When you're not a good singer or performer yourself though, and thus can't really deliver the songs in a state that would prove they're pretty good, you think to really be able to call yourself a songwriter, you need to have someone who is a really good singer and performer record your songs.  Getting "cuts" is the one thing that would certainly validate your hobby.  

Are you really a songwriter?  Most people can hit a dance floor and move around a bit, but can't really call themselves dancers.  Lots of people go on talent shows on TV thinking they can sing, but the millions of viewers think otherwise.  Getting a song you wrote recorded by a famous singer is the holy grail if you're like me and can't sing well yourself.  You think your songs might be good enough for such a thing, but you're not sure.  So, you look into how to go about making such a thing happen.  

You'd like to be a songwriter who has his songs recorded by famous artists, but you don't live in a place like Nashville or New York or Los Angeles where the famous artists are.  You know the experts advise you to move to one of those places to have a chance among the massive competition, but you're not willing to do that.  You can try to pitch via email, have an online presence, even release your own demos, but dread the hassle and fear the rejection, so you don't do it.  You know the successful songwriters move to Nashville and pay for top-quality demos, then pitch them in person after networking like crazy.  

You know that your singing and instrument-playing and home recording capabilities on your self-made demos are not that good, but you can't afford to pay for pro session singers, musicians, recording engineers or real studio time.  You research services like TAXI who supposedly once in a while get songwriter's songs to famous recording artists, movie/TV music supervisors, record labels, and publishing companies, but in reality, they are in California and primarily get radio-ready songs to their connections in the movie and tv business.  They also offer critiques and tell you your demos do not have that radio-ready quality yet.  You pay them to tell you this, which you already know.  So that won't work, so you don't pay them.  

You're not a great performer, so you don't go that route of trying to get paid gigs as a solo artist yourself.  Such is the conundrum of the non-performing songwriter who doesn't have much money and doesn't live in a place like Nashville.  You can't really hit an open mic night at a bar and have an A&R guy in the audience approach you to have his major-label artist record the great song you just played.  

There's not even much of a songwriter community for you to network with locally where you live, or even much of a music scene for that matter, so the odds are not in your favor.  About the best you can do is to keep writing, recording, and releasing, and hope you can increase the sales without any money to promote, market, or advertise your records.  You can't afford to have decent music videos.  You hope for viral recommendation via social media.  You know some independent artists pay for fake likes and follows to artificially make their music appear to be more popular, which can actually make it more popular, but you refuse to stoop to such unethical tactics.  

Even if you were able to move to Nashville, you know that for songwriters, it's the equivalent of thinking you can act and moving to Hollywood.  There's gonna be a ton of other people from the small towns of America who flock there seeking to realize the same dream.  Where they are from, there were hardly any other people who could write songs at all, or act at all, so of course for their area, they were perhaps not bad, and perhaps think they're better than they really are.  

The cream rises to the top, as you know, and the vast majority of the rest give up and move home or serve people food in restaurants or whatever.  You don't really know for sure if you don't ever try, I guess.  It can take years of putting yourself in the right places with the right people at the right times for the now-successful ones who "made it" to get where they got.  

You know all of this.  You also personally know people who made the pilgrimage to Hollywood or Nashville or New York and came back being able to say they at least tried to be an actor or dancer or musician or singer or songwriter, and you wonder if they'd been better off never having attempted it in the first place.  You learn from hearing their stories, reading on the internet, forming your own opinions, taking it all into consideration as you wonder if you could have better luck.

Sometimes I think I barely know what I’m doing.  Lyrics, melodies, harmony, rhythm, vocals – yes, what I make checks these boxes.  Words set to music, meant to be sung.  I’ve created a lot of these.  Based on that alone, I guess I can say I’m a songsmith.

At this point in my life, I’m not going to move to Nashville or subscribe to pitch sheets and submit my demos to labels, publishers, agents or artist managers.  I’m not going to network in person or online.  I’m not going after cuts, placements, employment, or record deals.  What I am going to keep doing is writing songs, recording “demos” and just releasing those demos as a pretend solo recording artist myself.  Maybe the streams will increase, maybe not.

You only really wonder about these things when not in creative mode.  You’re wishing you were more popular, more legitimate.  You wish you made more than fractions of a penny for each stream.  You are reminded of this type of thing when you get a report on your “success” from one of the streaming services such as this one from Spotify that I just got:

Some creative art works can be easily made from your home, and songs are included.  They can also be made available for public consumption from your home.  Twenty years ago, this was not the case.  In May of this year, according to Spotify, I had 186 listeners, an increase of 94% over April.  Might even add up to over one penny this time, who knows.  Does having a monthly increase in streaming stats mean I can call myself a songwriter yet?  Still don’t know.  Does the appearance of popularity beget more popularity?  They say it does.  Does using the word ‘beget’ make me cool?  Definitely.  Is this all an example of humble bragging?  Yah, you betchya.  I write about this kind of thing a lot to make sense of it, and I keep coming back to an overall feeling of being in the right place at the right time for this to be possible, and feeling fortunate I am able to do it.  Thanks for being a reader and listener!

Twitter Blues

Short bursts of inconsequential information.  Microblogging.  Not for me.  I'm a long-form blogger, here on Blogger.  I prefer long bursts of inconsequential information.  Nonetheless, I joined Twitter in 2008 and have tweeted a few times per year on average I guess ever since, mostly just to tell the world I have new music out there.  

A part of the appeal of social media for musical acts is to update existing fans about your music-making activities and to hopefully attract new fans.  Most social media is free, so that aspect is also appealing.

Another part of the appeal is to appear more important than you really are.  People seem to use it to make themselves out to be authorities on various subjects, and experts in various things.  They even go so far as to use it to become influencers and to get famous for fame's sake.

In case you're a new reader to my blog, I am an entertainer, but not a famous one.  I write songs and record them, and social media helps people like me "establish an online presence" which presumably helps with making people aware that I have music available to potentially enjoy.

Like a lot of musicians and artists, I prefer to focus on the creativity and don't get into self-promotion, but at the same time, wish my music was more popular.  I dread even the smallest activity like a short simple tweet to announce a new album release, but I do it anyway because it's somewhat necessary.

I've never warmed up to social media and mostly think of it as a waste of my time.  When it was new, I tried to snag the "scottcooley" user name before the other Scott Cooleys did, so I'd have that coveted URL suffix or whatever those are called.  You wouldn't think I'd have much trouble like the John Smiths out there do, but there are a surprising number of Scott Cooleys in the world.  One where I got in and snagged it early enough was twitter, so my handle on there is @scottcooley, and the link is https://www.twitter.com/scottcooley.

You won't find much on my Twitter profile, and a lot of it is just me posting a share of a link to a post from this blog, if I remember to do it.  I actually tweeted my qualifications for verification a while back, and those tweets are still there, even though I am now pretty embarrassed by them.

I can't believe I actually got upset that although I was "verified" as a legit musical artist on a bunch of different music and social media platforms, I never got verified on Twitter, despite actually applying for it.  I was authentic, somewhat notable, never that active, but never misleading or deceptive.  It's funny that Twitter fired all the people who work toward detecting impersonation, manipulation and spam, then started making people pay an outrageous amount of money to appear authentic.  

I'm not a regular social media consumer or poster.  I have profiles on several of them, however, because they are free accounts and I just thought having them would be a way to let people know I have music available for them to listen to.  

Having worked for software companies in the past, some with open source products, I am aware that they always want to have a "pro" or "premium" level of products and services for those wanting to pay more to get more.  Company owners can't help this as they exist to make more money all the time.  Google used this approach with many of their software products and services, in which they would lure people in by offering them for free, get people hooked, then make them pay.  It's arguably evil but probably does help pay for their mission to organize the world's information.

I suppose this is also the case with musicians - there's an argument to be made that if you offer free music early in your career, you can later get people to pay for it.  Indeed, many of my songs are available for free, and I'm not sure if this has helped me sell or get paid for my music at all.  

As an emerging independent recording artist with many album releases available on the major music streaming services, I thought having verified social media profiles might help to increase my popularity.  I'm not out to become a famous celebrity, but I would like it if more people discovered my music and liked it.  I have in the past thought having one of those check marks like they offer on Twitter might help that desire.  I filled out the form three times over the past several years to request the blue check mark unsuccessfully.  

I thought the appearance of legitimacy, like the appearance of popularity, would lead to more actual popularity. Ethically, I would never pay for fake streams or fake followers, but I've heard it is possible.  Like all artists though, I would be happy if anything helped my music reach a larger audience.  I've never paid for promotion, marketing, publicity, or advertising of any kind, and do not plan to.  Like most artists, I hope for "going viral" organically, and do not enjoy promoting myself in any way other than letting people know I have albums available.  

I don't have any budget whatsoever such activities to begin with.  So, aside from announcing my releases, I'm not going to pay someone to write about my music to gain notability.  I'm hoping you, my fans and followers and friends, will help to create the buzz and hype through recommendation.  

I can't fathom why anyone would want to pretend to be me, but I know wrongful impersonation happens, and without profile & content reviewers, there's only so much AI can detect, so now, if I wanted to, I could pay a bunch of money to show I'm the real Scott Cooley.  I suspect it would have zero positive impact on my music "career".  

As a humble songwriter and musician, I'm not aspiring for legitimacy, I already have it.  I am the artist Scott Cooley you will find when searching for music on Apple Music, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube Music, YouTube, Pandora, etc.  So, wherever you like to find and stream your music, mine is there, and I doubt a blue check mark on my free Twitter profile would sway your decision-making about whether to listen or not.  

No one is searching for me on Twitter anyway, so why would I pay for prioritized search rankings?  Makes no sense for me. I will continue to use it for announcements of music availability.  It's one thing to release music into the world where it could possibly be discovered, but another to make people aware of the fact that it exists.  Free social media is another way to make this second important part happen.

I watched The Social Dilemma documentary, and agree that social media can be harmful to society in many ways, and honestly, I struggle to see what benefits it has other than communication and combating loneliness.  When I'm in the mood to be entertained, I seek out music, books, movies, and live performance.  I admit that some social media content like jokes, memes, video games, and pet videos can be also be entertaining, but I'm not really interested in people's posts of the minutiae of their everyday lives. 

I remember when Twitter was new, I told someone I had an account on there, but didn't really know what it was for or what I could use it for.  They replied that they use it primarily for news, and that it was the primary news source in their lives.  This made absolutely no sense whatsoever for me.  News articles are way longer than the tweet character limit, so how is this even possible, I wondered.  

I guess legitimate (blue-checked) news sources post links to their articles on twitter, so you get the snippet and the link, so maybe that's how its meant to be consumed.  I'd rather just go to their website or get the actual printed publication if they still have one.

This all goes back to the fact that in the last twenty years or so, amateur musicians not signed to record labels have been able to offer their music in the same online places where the truly professional major-label artists do.  Anyone can write and publish a book on Amazon now, anyone can blog and pass it off as news or journalism.  The World Wide Web eliminated gatekeepers in various industries, and digital mediums have replaced tangible ones.

I view this as nothing but good luck and good timing for amateur hobbyists like me.  I do have a small fanbase, even though I never play live shows anywhere in public.  People have told me they like some of my songs, and even that they look forward to when I have more new ones available for them to listen to.  For a guy who just likes to write songs and record them for fun, this is a cool thing.  I wish it was lucrative, but so far, it has not been in any way.  That said, I still like knowing my art is out there and can be discovered.  The Web has allowed people like me to say "I was here.  I created things that didn't exist before.  Here they are for your entertainment."

To get the blues about not being perceived as notable is inconsequential.  It has to be an earned thing.  I've made music that has entertained people, and I'm still planning to do more of that in the future, and also, I blog about how I feel about it.  If not signed to a real record label, I suspect self-published artists like me feel like posers.  I have, and there's a part of you that hopes and wishes for legitimacy.  Although it can be purchased, that would never satisfy the desire.

I pay for online distribution of my independent music.  Also known as a digital aggregator service, for a fee they send my music to Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube Music, Amazon Music, and a bunch of others.  There are several of these types of services available, and they have existed for approximately twenty years.  

I was among the first wave of artists to send them my music and pay them to send it to the places where people go to get their music.  I've come close to recouping some of that expense, so it's practically paid for itself, but the real value is knowing my music is out there where people can find it and appreciate it.

I started playing guitar in 1989 and wrote my first song in about 1990 before there was a world wide web.  It's just pure fortune that this inexpensive music distribution service availability coincided with inexpensive home recording equipment and the internet and social media and my hobby - all in my lifetime just as my new hobby was starting to take hold.  Like a tweet, all this is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but nonetheless something I get a big kick out of.

Songwriter's Block Antidote Recipe

I hadn't written any new songs since October 2022, and now at the beginning April 2023, after a 5 month dryspell, I got back in the swing of my hobby again.  It's happened before, and when asked what got me back into it again, I always struggle to remember the exact circumstances that helped, so this time, I decided to write about what might've caused this while it's still fresh in my mind for future reference, and now, I'm sharing that with you.

A quick summary list of the combination of factors that worked for me this time:

1.  Hope:  a couple job interviews gave me hope for a better future recently, and although I didn't get the job, it got me excited about the possibility and lifted my mood.  Just a general feeling that you have things to look forward to in life can help the muse come back I suspect.  Some of the songs may indeed be blues and have negative or depressing subject matter, but even so, it's being excited about potential improvements in your life and in the near future that can get you thinking creatively again.

2.  Discovering New Music:  using my music streaming service, I put together a playlist and similar music got auto-suggested, and in the process of checking out new (actually old, but new to me) music that was interesting got me back in the mood to want to write something like what I heard, which is quite different than my usual style

3.  Reduced Stress:  having fewer pressures on me for a few weeks in a row helped me finally get into the right mood to start thinking creatively again, and maybe it's being in more of a state of relaxation that seems to help.

4.  Lack Of Sleep/ Too Much Sleep:  Changing up habits of sleep and getting away from a predictable daily schedule helps.  After consistently having a steady boring schedule where I got adequate sleep for many months in a row, I actually experienced a few alternating nights of either not getting enough sleep or sleeping too much, and this jolted me out of the rut I was in somehow.  Being too tired might've helped more than too rested, and once back in a flow, it was hard to shut of the creative faucet when going to bed to finally get sleep, new ideas would come to me and I'd have to get up and go work on them.

5.  Rain:  the surge of a weeklong creative output period of time coincided with heavy storms and on/off rain for an entire week, and flooding, so this may very well have been a contributing factor in some way.  You tend to stay inside where you have a guitar and a phone to record ideas on and a computer to type lyrics on.

6.  Forcing Myself To Finish Old Lyrics:  I have electronic documents with tons of song ideas and partially-written songs, and I forced myself to revisit them, forced myself to revise them, forced myself to complete one, which led to finishing another, which spurred me on to finish the music for them, and finally all this spurred me on to write new ones from scratch.

7.  Uninterrupted Quiet Time Alone:  you need the long stretches of quiet time to get back into a flow, and you have to actively get started on doing songwriting instead of just watching movies or other free-time pursuits.  Starting small, I told myself I would at least complete one song and this definitely got me back on a roll with the creative juices flowing and the muse returning.  Just going through old lyric documents and recorded musical ideas on my phone and spending time on this instead of surfing the web or whatever really helped.

8.  Riding The Wave To Completion:  Leaving songs partially written is never a good idea.  It's always better to make yourself ride out the wave to completion of a song while you're in the mood for it.  Doing this gets you in the right frame of mind then to continue on with more.  Just making yourself get started on it, even by just reading notebooks with old lyric scaps and listening to past failed recordings of songs or beginnings of songs can help.  Then it's crucial to keep going while you're on a roll with one song before moving to another or stopping.  Completing one helps you know it wasn't as daunting as you thought, and then finishing the next one comes even easier, because you've reminded yourself you can do it.  When inspiration strikes, it's good to push past logical stopping points so you don't lose the ideas.

9.  Telling Someone About The Drought:  it seems that before this recent wave of songwriting began for me, I told a friend I hadn't written anything in a really long time (for me), and just getting that frustration off my chest by itself may have also been a factor.

10.  Free Time:  Just generally having some actual free time, and not necessarily uninterrupted quiet time alone, still seems to help.  You can't write songs if you never make time for it, and if you're so busy with other things, you'll never get around to it.  So, free up the schedule once in a while.  I can only imagine how awesome it would be if you were one of those people where all you did for a living was write songs - think of the potential for productivity!  I'm sure being a real professional would come with pressures a hobbyist like me wouldn't understand, but still, I'd like to have that problem.

You have to write about "what worked" while it's fresh in your mind, and I'm doing that now for the first time ever.  Journaling about motivating factors quickly right after the creative period and before it starts to go away again or start to settle down is not something I've remembered to do before, and you forget if you don't capture it right away.  

The Actual Output Stats:  I had this rush of creativity writing a lot of lyrics for multiple songs - some were scraps that became full song lyrics, some were from scratch, some used existing musical ideas, and others were new music from scratch, resulting in about 5 completely written new songs in about 7 days, and progress on several more rough drafts.  One out of the 5 is definitely a keeper I will record and probably release someday.  That's close to my usual keeper ratio, and if I only have a couple spurts like this per year, that's only 2 good songs per year, but usually I have 4 or 5 spurts like this per year, and rarely a drought this long (on average), so that's why it takes me a couple years to have a new album's worth of decent material ready to release again.

Other free-time demands have crept back in that interrupted the flow a bit very recently, but it is still fresh enough in my mind to be able to think about what helped me get out of my funk.  Now I can refer back to this post the next time and although I'm not sure if the creative spark can be manufactured by following a checklist, it might help.  There are times during long periods of inactivity in a hobby like songwriting in which you question whether you'll ever be able to write a song again.  You start to dread this situation of wanting to write more, but not being able to, and you are quick to say you're just "not feeling it" and move on to reading or walking the dog or watching TV or whatever.  It's sort of like your procrastination becomes the new habit.  On the other hand, trusting your own experience that your lifelong adult hobby will eventually re-enter your life again is always a good thing to remind yourself of.

One final thought is:  lower the bar for yourself, don't expect too much.  It's counter-productive to say to yourself that you will never be able to top your best songs, but the reality is you kill that potential to think that way and not try.  It's even worse negative self-talk to think you'll never be able to write a hit like your favorite hits from artists you enjoy listening to.  Keeping your expectations low and not caring if you ever come close to those standards or not is way healthier, because it gets you back into your creative hobby of writing songs again, and if you write five and only one of them sounds pretty good to you, you wouldn't have otherwise had that one additional new song you wrote that you like according to your own standards of quality.