I Feel Much Better Now
by: Chaz Frankly*
During the past few years, I have become increasingly disillusioned with the state of modern American music. No, I am not one of those people who complain about the quality of music and speak endlessly about the infamous compact disc with only "one or two good songs." Rather, I have been known to grumble about the distribution system through which music is sold to consumers. I like CDs, but sixteen dollars a pop seems awfully expensive. And then there is the alternative. . . .
File sharing provided a quick, easy, and free way for me to access my favorite music. Like most things that were quick, easy, and free, though, it was also immoral. Probably no better clubbing baby seals, or voting Republican. There had to be a better way—a way that would satisfy my need for convenient, inexpensive music, without damning my soul to eternal hellfire.
But where would such a music system come from? Who would lead this new consumer-driven music revolution?
The answer, of course, could be found in the new Napster subscription music service. With Napster, I could pay ten dollars a month and listen to all the music that I wished. Unlimited downloads. Sure, I couldn't remove the songs from my computer without paying an extra fee, and the music would become unplayable if I ever ended my subscription, but that wasn't what was really important. Music ownership was part of the old way of thinking. Reasonably-priced subscription services would dominate the new industry, allowing people of all ages to listen to unlimited amounts of music for a small licensing fee.
War would end. Hunger would end. Poverty would end.
There would be no more disease, crime, or racial prejudice.
Everyone would live in peace, free to listen to Rage Against the Machine, Pink Floyd, Avril Lavigne, and Radiohea . . .
Hmm . . .
But some artists had chosen not to take part in the new digital revolution. How could this be so? Napster 2.0 was supposed to help artists by making their music easily accessible. . . .
Napster 2.0 was no different from compact discs. I had been fooled. The wool had been pulled over my eyes. The proverbial blinding force of blindness had blinded me, causing blinding blindness.
The problem was not the distribution system. It was not important whether I went to the store and bought music or downloaded it with my computer. What was important was that artists were receiving less than a dollar for each CD that was sold in stores. Music industry fat cats were making millions, while most artists could only hope for 50 cents from each album that they sold. Napster would be no different. In fact, artists would most likely get even less than the standard 10 cents per album. Of my ten dollars a month, how much would go to Pink Floyd? A penny, one-hundredth of a penny? One billion-zillionth of a penny?
The only way that one could stop this gilded age of music inequality was to bankrupt the music industry. And there was only one way to accomplish such a feat.
Peer-to-peer music sharing. If people stopped buying CDs and stopped using legal music services, the obsolete music industry would cease to exist. Artists would be freed from the shackles that bound them, and a new artistic renaissance would begin—all through a simple act of civil disobedience. File sharing was the only moral way to acquire music. Buying CDs was suddenly the hobby of Satan, and sadly, using Napster was no better that killing babies and not using all of their body parts for food.
Needless to say, I was disillusioned. I actually liked Napster better than Kazaa, and plus, it was legal. But to continue using it I would need to rationalize like I had never rationalized before. I would stay up all night if I had to, and I did stay up all night, but it was worth it. I can now sleep soundly knowing that the real problem has nothing to do with the music industry. The reason that music executives had to exploit both musicians and consumers was that they needed the extra money to buy all of their cocaine—cocaine that would be significantly cheaper if it were not illegal.
The real problem was US drug policy. Yes, that's it. Drug policy.
I feel better much better now.
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*And by Chaz Frankly, we mean Daniel Riehs.
Why is this footnote here?
