The Convolution of Music Ownership

Ariel Sammone

America loves individuality and property. The determination of what is mine is the prevailing business of the legal system. Technology has has rendered every aspect of American life increasingly complicated, and music as physical and intellectual property is without exemption. Music has moved from the intangible realm to physical reality, from temporal restriction to simultaneity, from physical presence to virtuality, and from nonreciprocity to interactivity. As the processing of music is broken down into further stages, it passes trough more hands, and more individuals might try to lay claim to property ownership and copyright. Various cultures have emerged that sought to change the methods of and attitudes toward music, brought on by artistic perspective , personal need, and in response to technological advancement. To illuminate this process, let us trace the evolution of a song, its ownership, distribution, and position within a culture as prominent changes in technology and cultural norms have taken place.

Before we as a nation came to find ourselves increasingly integrated into the technological “grid,” before the internet, personal music players, television, film, radio, and even before the phonograph, music was written, performed, consumed, and enjoyed. The methods of its diffusion were hopelessly rooted in “real-life” situations: horrifyingly, one need actually be present at the location of the generation of music in order to experience it. Concerts provided a social outing, but a piece of music could not be captured as a physical recording to be consumed elsewise at one’s own discretion. A spot of piano music could be owned as sheet music, and for those with the ability, performed at one’s own leisure. This was the extent of one’s ability to personally own a piece of music not personally written. The performers at the concert to which you took your date might own their music if they were also the composer; if they were not, they probably did not. To the people, music was a pleasant distraction, a vehicle for expression, a significator of cultural value, a profession, an achievement of human kind. The technology was hardly new.

Recording provided the liberation of spacetime. Physical (analogue) recording had its limitations, such as length of tracks (determined by space of template) and concerns of fidelity, which would be overcome by the eventual conversion to magnetic tape and finally, digital formatting. For the people, this was a remarkable achievement. Of a sudden, I could take a performance home with me in a way more present than only in mind. The memory took physical shape. I could collect these “memories,” put them on my shelf, compare them with those of my friends, load them into the phonograph/record player/tape deck/CD player and feel immersed in the music I could previously only experience within the locality of live performers. For the listener, ownership took the form of recordings. The simultaneous genesis of freedom to own music via recording that opened to consumers began to complicate the issue of ownership for composers, performers, and those who recorded music. The rules regarding this issue have been in flux since the beginning, and questions concerning the amount of involvement of each party have weighed in at differing degrees at different stages since its inception. Record companies, composers, producers and performers have had to duke it out for rights and royalties, and the battle still ensues. Eventually, a new breed of contender would take the scene. Let us first consider broadcast technology.

Broadcasting became mainstream with radio. Signals transmitted over the air could be received by the proper device, which could be (as advertisers were wont to expound) nearly everywhere simultaneously. Oh, miraculous machine! No longer were the people bound to the locus of creation. Music could be enjoyed in the home, on the bus, emanating from my hoop skirt. Its applications were endless: for therapy of the decrepit, for the soothing of colicky babies, as an organizer of social function, as family ritual, not to mention the dissemination of information. Recording technology changed radio to include recorded incidences of music, rather than wholly live ones. Further, the microphone came to change musicians’ approach to music. Crooners were born from personal tenderness afforded by the amplification of voice it could provide. The radio affected cultural change as it largely became included in the home, reaching an audience who simultaneously could experience the same broadcast in an array of locations, and created the arena for new styles of music. Stars were born of this. As the recording industry largely owned music and controlled what came to be broadcast, it was relatively easy to control the market for music. The advent of the computer and internet shifted that power into the hands of consumers, and as such the face of the industry.

Music is a virtual commodity. Computers, internet, and gaming have changed the nature of the game. Record companies and artists are losing money; pirates are zealous, though at risk of legal action; copyrights are flippantly disregarded; video games like Rock Band and Guitar Hero have created new avenues of musical interactivity and challenge the very meaning of musicianship; remix artists are sparking controversy and gaining in popularity; and the recording, synthesization, editing, distribution and promulgation of music are more complicated yet readily accessible than ever. The nature of current technology renders control of the distribution of music almost impossible, and as such, those who would otherwise receive their legal due for the use and consumption of music are often not being paid. Downloading services are rampantly available to those who would like a personal copy of their favorite artists’ works and who would also like not to pay for it. The copyright is increasingly ignored. While there have been instances of lawsuit and reprimand for the pirate or illegal downloader, this has generally not been enough to quell the storm of activity. Certain legal music downloading providers, such as iTunes, charge a fee per track downloaded, providing a freedom to consumers who do wish to recompense for music consumed, but do not wish to pay for certain tracks on an album that are lesser enjoyed, previously a common gripe of consumers. Artists can record their own music and sell it online through iTunes and other sites, bypassing the traditional record company entirely. Not only is music shared to the extent that it can be listened to for free, some people have taken it a step further by actively using parts of others’ music to creatively form a version of their own, including sampling techniques and aspects of the DJ culture, to which they can then assume their own right (although sometimes facing legal action). Controversy has arisen regarding the authenticity of music created in this fashion, but those who utilize the technique have asserted their position that it takes genuine ingenuity and musical sensitivity to do what they do. What’s more, people like it. As such, the popular conception of talent has undergone a radical change in response to the increasing availability of technology and software that enables remix music to be composed, often with little or no compunction. Someone sufficiently skilled can amaze his friends and the internet with the virtuosity of his performance of the Free Bird solo on Guitar Hero, leading one to ask again what it means to be a performer of music in this age. Complications such as these are unrivaled in the history of music as an art form and industry.

What will be the resolution? The record company must fall. Put copyright in the hands of the people, and let artists choose how they would have their music used. If the community embraces change, restitution and retribution should naturally come to those deserving it. Music production for economic gain is in my opinion anyway a perversion of the true beauty of expression.

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