Easily the catchiest exercise in r&b irreverence since “Crazy.”

If you’re a regular reader of, well, pretty much any blog, you probably heard about pint-sized funkster Prince‘s recent comment that “the internet is over.” This comes as news to anyone who doesn’t use AOL discs to go online.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that it seems unlikely that the most powerful communications platform in history is just a fad. Sure, the telecoms want to control the internet (don’t worry, they pay me to stave off this dystopia), but unless you have an address in North Korea (or sadly, some parts of the US), the web is an integral part of your life.

So what the hell is The Purple One talking about here?

Well, like some artists, Prince equates the internet with a loss of control. Digital technology has made it impossibly easy to reproduce and access music without permission from the copyright owner, which in turn, has undermined longstanding business models. On the other hand, the web has ushered in an era of innovation and put the means of promotion and distribution in the hands of the creator. Never before have artists had so many tools at their disposal to reach potential audiences. Sure, it’s a noisy marketplace with no fixed rules about how, where (or even if) you’ll make money. But most of the musicians I talk to wouldn’t want to go back to the old era of bottlenecks and gatekeepers, where only a small handful of artists even had a shot at being heard. Is the digital era perfect? Hell no. But what era is?

The weird thing about Prince’s anti-internet attitude is that it runs counter to how he initially approached the web. When the internet first became a “thing,” there were two big-name artists who seemed to recognize its potential: David Bowie, who’s always ahead of the curve, and Prince.

Back then, Prince was embroiled in a pitched battle with his record company that resulted in him doing wacky things like changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol and writing the word “slave” on his chiseled cheekbones. Like many artists, he was angry at what his label was paying him in royalties. But what really got him steamed was that the suits were setting limits on his creative expression. Meaning, they didn’t want his next release to be a quadruple-album, or they had reservations about his desire to release music on his own schedule, not theirs. You see, record companies operated on the principle of scarcity, and it was bad business to flood the market with multiple releases in the same window. You wouldn’t want to confuse the customer, who were clearly simpletons. This approach did not jive with an artist as prolific as Prince.

The internet allowed Prince to open up his vaults and make direct contact with his devoted fanbase. For a while, things went just fine, with Prince leveraging this technology to sell limited-run items, access to digital downloads and premium concert tickets with a few extra perks. You know, pretty much what every band in existence does now. But somewhere along the line, Prince soured on the whole online thing.

It’s not like the guy was anti-technology. Just listen to his classic recordings — he used and abused every drum machine and synth he could get his hands on in the pursuit of new sounds and textures. But lately, he’s rejected even musical machinery, saying that it robs songs of their soul.

But why go picking on the internet?

Maybe he’s pissed that unlawful filesharing means his catalog doesn’t sell as well. But he wasn’t happy with the royalties the label was paying him for the copyrights he transferred to them anyway — why not just make some new music and sell it directly to a global audience online? Hell, with a vault like his, he probably doesn’t have to ever write a song again!

There’s no doubt that Prince hates piracy. But is that the whole picture?

Let’s look at a couple of his quotes from the UK rag that published the story:

“The internet’s completely over. I don’t see why I should give my new music to iTunes or anyone else. They won’t pay me an advance for it and then they get angry when they can’t get it.

“The internet’s like MTV. At one time MTV was hip and suddenly it became outdated. Anyway, all these computers and digital gadgets are no good.

“They just fill your head with numbers and that can’t be good for you.”

What Prince really seems really pissed at is that nobody’s giving him advances anymore. He has to stock stuff at iTunes just like every other indie schlep and let the market dictate demand.

His comments seem especially ridiculous considering how long he spent railing against the old system which DID pay him advances for his work. Maybe the record company wasn’t even the bad guy (for once). Prince likely kept demanding bigger and bigger advances, even after his popularity peaked. Yet his albums sold fewer and fewer copies, making it harder for the label to recoup costs. Blew the advance money on diamond-encrusted platform shoes? That’s your problem, dude.

So what’s Prince’s alternative to this brave new online world? Well, a few years ago he released an album that came free with the Sunday edition of a UK newspaper. A novel enough strategy, and at least he got that advance. Later, he tried a retail exclusive (like a lot of older acts) at Best Buy. By then, however, big box tie-ins were pretty much dead, and the album sold very poorly. (It also sucked majorly.) For his latest release, Prince is back to bundling his CD with European newspapers. I guess there’s a perverse logic in tying an obsolete format to a dying industry.

Prince’s refusal to play nice with the web only makes things harder for him. It’s not like his new tunes will get any radio airplay. And, as he himself mentioned, MTV is done. The internet is one of the few places an artist like himself can still create a buzz. And the best part is, it’s global. Prince has fans all over the world who are just dying for a way to get close to him. Surely there’s money in that.

But it’s not all about the Benjamins. The real tragedy here is that younger generations will be less likely to encounter Prince’s genius. As a fan and fellow musician, I find this to be sad. Art is nothing if it isn’t allowed to influence other artists. By shitting on the main tool kids use to discover music, Prince is ultimately diminishing his own legacy.

But he’s not wrong. Not exactly.

The idea of copyright is to give the creator a limited monopoly on his or her work. “Limited” means that at some point the work becomes part of the public domain, where it can be used by others to further enrich culture. In bygone times, works in the public domain were often inaccessible due to the high cost of printing and distribution, not to mention limited physical space to house the material. Digital technology changed all this. These days, keeping something “in print” costs nothing, which theoretically means a more robust creative commons.

This isn’t necessarily the case, however. Extensions to the terms of copyright have kept works from entering the public domain well past the creator’s lifetime (or even that of his or her offspring). Such extensions are the result of intense lobbying by companies that were granted “transfer” by the creator, possibly in exchange for an advance. Keep in mind that before the internet, pretty much the only way to get your stuff to the masses was to sign away your copyright — often from a position of marginal leverage.

Copyright also gives the creator the ability to say no. As long as you hang on to it, you are the one in charge of how, where, (or even if) your work is used. At some point it becomes part of the commons, but until then, you’ve got the monopoly.

The downside of the internet, which puts “copying” in the hands of the average person, is that the creator loses the power to say no. Once something exists online, it’s essentially out of the artist’s control. Some creators like this, because the “viral” nature of the web means infinite promotional potential. The resulting brand awareness can be harnessed to sell “scarcer” products, like limited edition vinyl, premium concert experiences, or even more downloads.

Prince isn’t into that shit. And that’s his right.

I personally think he’s being stupid and shortsighted, but hey, he’s the creator. Until he transfers his copyright for one of those tasty advances, copyright law says he gets to call the shots.

Of course, a limited monopoly on copyright is not incompatible with a limitless monopoly on idiocy.

With all of the stuff happening at my job and the consulting I’m doing, I’ve not had a ton of time for music making. That doesn’t mean I haven’t made some progress, however.

My new record, Farewell Plutonia, is just about done. Originally, I had intended it to be another concept album about, well, something. I’d even toyed with the idea of publishing a short graphic novel with a CD included as the “soundtrack.” Unfortunately, the narrative never fully emerged, so I’ve tabled that idea for the time being. Now I’m looking at doing a fairly small run of CDs, once I figure out the design direction. Obviously, it will also be available at all the digital stores and services. And I’ll probably make some new videos.

I haven’t completely given up on the graphic novel idea, though. In fact, I’m thinking that the next album I make will be inspired by (if not completely based on) the life of Jack Whiteside Parsons — father of American rocket science and flamboyant metaphysician who blowed himself up back in 1952. That seems more suited to the comic format, and the narrative is already there.

In other music news, my friends Timothy and Elizabeth Bracy came over this weekend. Timothy used to be in the Mendoza Line. Some of you probably know them; they released records on Kindercore, Bar None and Misra. Anyway, they got me drunk (or I got myself drunk — it’s hard to remember) and roped me into playing with them at the Black Cat next weekend. Next weekend! That means I have to hurry, hurry, super-scurry to learn the material. But if I’m gonna end my moratorium on live performance, it might as well be with the Fabulous Bracys. As my revenge, I think I’ll force them to make a new record that I’ll produce.

Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

Chilton died of an apparent heart attack at age 59. He was scheduled to play with Big Star at SXSW in Austin, Texas — where I’m writing this very post. Sadly, I never got the chance to see the band live, and now I never will.

Even Tennessee Rep. Steve Cohen took time on the House floor to pay tribute to this unique American musical genius.

The real Contrarian eulogy should be written by our Senior Music Correspondent, Ethan Covey, for whom Big Star and Alex Chilton truly mean the world. But I think he’s on vacation in the tropics, so we’ll have to wait on that.

Thank you, Mr. Chilton. Your music will forever shine…

Case in point, this latest clip for the song “This Too Shall Pass.” I don’t want to spoil it for you if you haven’t seen it, but I will say that it’s chock full o’ science! Checkit:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w

You may have heard about the controversy surrounding their earlier video for the same song, which their major label, Capitol/EMI, refused to make available for embedding on YouTube. OK Go frontman Damian Kulash wrote an excellent Op-Ed in a recent edition of the New York Times where he gets into the nitty-gritty, so I won’t bother repeating his points. But it’s definitely a must-read.

Another amusing factoid is that State Farm Insurance paid for the new version of the video, not Capitol. I guess that’s where we’re at with the rock ‘n’ roll these days.

Oh, and here’s the original clip of “This Too Shall Pass,” which is available for embedding via Vimeo. It’s equally amazing:

OK Go -- This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

This Monday (Feb. 8th) at 10pm, PBS will broadcast “Blueprint America: Beyond The Motor City,” a documentary about urban infrastructure that features music by Neil. Here’s what he has to say about the flick and its soundtrack:

“[The movie] focuses on the growth, decay and future of Detroit and looks to high-speed rail in Spain and California for inspiration, which gave me the opportunity to have fun with all sorts of Motown, Spanish and futuristic computer-y sounds. It’s the first thing of its kind I’ve done and I actually haven’t even seen a final cut myself, so tune in and see it with me for the first time!”

You don’t have to tell me twice. Here’s a link to the show’s site, which has a trailer and a handful of clips.

It always makes me happy to see our crew making things happen out there in the world. And if you want further confirmation of the talent ’round here, check out Susan Norton‘s post from yesterday.

Hello lovelies!

While you may be used to seeing kids around Halloween raising funds for UNICEF, this year for Valentine’s Day, please consider sending your loved ones the fruits of my picture-making labors to support needy children around the world. UNICEF is an organization which has helped countless women and children stricken by poverty, famine, and disaster, and in the wake of the horrific earthquakes in Haiti, they need our help more than ever.

I have created a PDF book called “Epistle: Love Letters to the Visual Environment.” It is a collection of eight pages from my collage book, all along the themes of romance, sweetness, delight, and whole-heartedness. Volume One is called “Doo-Wop,” and is appropriate for anyone who likes jukeboxes.

A PayPal donation can be made here:

http://nortonanalog.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-fundraiser-for-unicef.html

Please donate $5 or more, and your loved one will receive a link to download this PDF book in their inbox on Valentine’s Day, knowing that your affection for them has been forwarded to children in need. 80% of all proceeds will go directly to UNICEF.

Send me a request at nortonanalog@gmail.com. Include your e-mail address, the recipient’s e-mail address, and, if you wish, a personal greeting of up to 100 characters (leave blank if you wish to remain a secret admirer!).

For more information about UNICEF, visit the link below:

http://www.unicef.org/

This morning I awoke to a head full of thoughts — not an unfamiliar phenomenon, I must say. During coffee, something drew me to an online collection of interview snippets about/with Syd Barrett — the late psych-pop acid casualty and leader of the original Pink Floyd. Actually, I know exactly how I got there — I caught a random blog comment concerning Floyd’s onetime manager Peter Jenner, a fellow I happen to know (somewhat) personally and whom I like an awful lot. Summary: there was of fascinating stuff on this page, laid out in forensic detail. Check it out if you have the interest.

After that, I decided to vacuum the house, which for some reason always lubricates my synapses. The soundtrack to this chore was, of course, Piper at the Gates of Dawn. I started thinking about influences, aesthetics and all sorts of other things. I realized that most artists never fully transcend their influences, but the best of us steal flame from our forebears’ fire — Prometheus style — which in turn illuminates our own creative path. This is a natural tradition, as old as art itself, though it does have a tendency to muddy the business side of things from time to time.

Personally, I have begun to retreat from the au courant, the now, the hip, in order to focus more fully on my own craft. And that’s exactly what it is: a craft. Somewhere between a practical trade and extrasensory perception. Some equate it with spirituality, others magic, others don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My point is this: there’s a time to soak up influences and check your vocabulary against the common tongue, and there’s a time to put aside distractions and simply go about your business. And that’s where I’m currently at.

On the aesthetic side, I’m comfortable in the knowledge that whatever art I produce will naturally be informed by my influences and previous experimentation. Perhaps I actually have learned some lessons — like, it might seem like a cool idea to put Beach Boys harmonies on a Swans-type cut, but it really doesn’t come out all that that well! Of course, I reserve the right to be contrarian. Meaning that, that even when popular taste matches my own inclinations I could — out of temperament or pique — reject an approach that might otherwise suit me. For example, I refuse to chase the current neo-shoegaze/indie-psych movement around hoping to catch a wink. Firstly, I’m too old for that, and the whippersnappers would have me terribly out of breath. Secondly, I think that a lot of today’s expression lacks clarity of vision. Where is your gestalt? What about your work screams out to be heard? So much of the new psych-gaze stuff sounds as shiftless and non-committal as the generation that produced it. Give me danger, give me drama, give me noise, give me melody, give me sensuality. Look, I’m as moon-addled as the next guy, with a profound love of being enveloped in puffy wafts of sound. But The Goddess requires a Consort, and he better be ready to fucking throw down.

Even approaching midlife, I’m game.

Back to influences (and Syd) for a second. It’s clear to me — and anyone with ears — that Robyn Hitchcock is hugely influenced by Barrett. But Robyn’s done the gentlemanly thing and taken part of Syd inside himself, consumed him, if you will. This is the noble tradition that I spoke of earlier. I swallowed Jimmy Page, for example. (And he tasted like velvet dragons!)

Who did you have for breakfast?

As I get older, it becomes more important for me to create. Not out of vanity or the sense that I’ve got to “leave something behind,” but rather because life is indeed short and I abhor waste. Talent should be refined, tested, refined, tested, refined, tested until you run out of breath. If you’re a creator, anyway. If you’re an accountant (and there’s nothing wrong with that), your path and purpose is different. As it should be.

The craft continues to inform, particularly as one gets bolder about embodying it in all parts of one’s life. I am no longer intimidated by the “marketplace.” What marketplace? I engage where appropriate. I consider my (admittedly limited) audience. I challenge myself to find new ways for my ideas to be formulated and disseminated. I trust my instincts, yet work hard at perfecting my ideas. And I hopefully get better.

Perhaps you take a similar approach. If so, I raise my glass of mid-morning Scotch.

As I promised to the fine people of Twitter, here is my latest composition. It may not be “finished,” but I figured I’d offer a taste:

The Contrarian: “The Family” MP3

And now for some background. This track is a likely contender for my next full-length, Revelation Musicks. I expect that there will be greater involvement from our own Library Scientist/dronemeister, Wes Covey of The Ten Thousand Things. I’m anticipating a looser, psych/blues kind of feel for this one. But there will still be songs.

Remember when records had two sides? This album will have two virtual “sides.” Anti-gnosis and gnosis.

The anti-gnosis is control, religious mindtraps, the abuse of Earth, the deification of power, the cult of Mammon, etc.

The gnosis is liberation, and an explosion of righteous anger and ecstasy.

As you were.