Last week the universally liked-but-not-loved band Cake's new album, Showroom Of Compassion, became the No. 1 record on the Billboard charts and set a new record in the process—it was the lowest-selling No. 1 record since Billboard charts were created. That's not exactly the distinction you want flying around your name, but it's symptomatic of where the music industry is going these days: down.
If anyone seemed fit to survive a music industry recession, Cake seemed a likely contender. The target audience for their brand of smooth, hook-laden adult contempo are mostly dads who maybe don't know how to use the Internet or casual fans who maybe don't buy enough records to feel compelled to pirate the few songs they care about. But in this case, Cake's broad appeal wasn't enough to overcome an apathetic market. The lesson: not even the most universally appreciated major-label bands can put cheese on the table through record sales alone.
But while some (you may remember Lars Ulrich) rue the day the Internet was created and are hell-bent on squeezing every nickel from the series of tubes, other minds are embracing it.
Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All are a group of Los Angeles teenagers who probably don't get enough attention. That includes a lack of attention from the press, sure, but they're working on that. Rather, OFWGKTA haven't gotten enough paternal attention. They rap relentlessly about drug abuse, violence and much, much worse; yet until last year none of them were even old enough to vote. A lot of it comes off that way, too: as a gimmick or stunt for attention. They want to be noticed—by their parents, by the media, by anyone.
The parent issue likely hits close to home for the group's charismatic, goofball leader, Tyler, The Creator (whose 2009 debut album was a loose narrative based around his father-less visits to a psychiatrist, titled Bastard) and his little brother, Earl Sweatshirt (who may or may not be missing). But for all their gruesome imagery, the talent is undeniable. Tyler, The Creator has either rapped on or produced every track released by OFWGKTA, which now fills three mixtapes and seven albums, each available for free download from the group's Tumblr page. And as accomplished and impressive as Bastard or Earl Sweatshirt's debut, Earl, might be, their quality is rapidly improving. Tyler's beats have gotten more fluid, and all of their raps are more grounded and more cohesively strung together. They're getting older, they're getting better, and the more confident they become with their own talents, they're even getting less obscene.
I can't speak to the parental figures of Hodgy Beats, Domo Genesis, Left Brain or any of the others, but I can speak to their similar styles. Odd Future are beyond the stage of being disaffected youth and onto the very, very affected youth stage. They don't sit back idly waiting for the world to acknowledge them; they grab the world by the hair and, in Tyler, The Creator's words, take a dookie on the ham.
People tend to lump their vulgarisms in a group with shock-rap or horror-core dimwits Hollywood Undead because of this obscene quality, while others (OFWGKTA chief among them) say there is a very fundamental difference. I side with the latter mostly because I can appreciate that many of these words (especially to a teenager) are pure semantics and never to be taken literally; but also because I'm a sucker for swag, and these guys have it coming out their ears.
Although I don't implore anyone (least of all my parents) to put the work in to decide for yourselves, I can tell you that many already have. Last week, while Billboard failed to chart anything greater than Cake's 44,000 units, Odd Future completely sold out an upcoming show in New York. At almost exactly the same time, OFWGKTA were slotted above such reputable underground names as the Rural Alberta Advantage and the Freelance Whales on the poster for this summer's Coachella Music Festival.
They accomplished all of this without ever charging money for one of their records, but nowadays it's almost hard to think of them accomplishing the same under conventional record industry practice. Imagine if the thousands of people in New York currently anticipating the OFWGKTA show had been forced to pay for a record by a laughably offensive Los Angeles 16-year-old named Earl Sweatshirt—would they have? And would they still be compelled to go to a concert for his older brother's rap collective?
To steal a line from Slim Charles, ""The music game's the same, it just got harsher."" Economically, it's not enough just to release a stellar album anymore—you need to back it up with substance, style and performance. Records still are and always will be an integral component in music consumption, but the capitalist band will do well to align itself with the economic model for athletes.
That is: we don't pay for athletes to practice, but we do pay considerable sums to athletes who perform well in organized contests, which requires practice. The music industry's reality, then: We don't pay for bands to record albums, but we do pay to watch bands that record quality records perform.
So records are a place for practicing and learning. This is a dilemma for record labels that have made an industry of profiting from other people's talents. But for bands like Cake, the number of units sold is not more important than the number of relative competitors; and I'll promise you now that Cake has very little trouble making money on the road in 2011. On the other hand, groups like OFWGKTA can cash their checks at live performances—albums are strictly places to learn, grow and figure out what the heck it is adults are supposed to rap about anyways.
If you would like to download Kyle's column for free, then watch him recite it live, email him at ktsparks@wisc.edu.
