LAST CALL
MAKING $OME DOUGH RE ME WITH YOUR MU$IC BY JOHN BOHLINGER
Adrug dealer in New York had a regular customer
named “Mike,” who, after buying $300 worth of heroin, saw
some paint cans on a shelf of
the dealer’s bodega and asked if
he could tag the dealer’s metal
door. The dealer said sure, so
Mike painted a devil image on
the door and then went home
to O.D. Years later, somebody
showed the dealer a book about
Jean-Michel Basquiat saying,
“Look, that’s Mike.” Today,
Basquiat’s paintings sell for as
much as $14.6 million. The
drug dealer who sold him the
fatal hit of dope is cashing in on
the last work Basquiat painted.
Basquiat painted on the
streets of New York in the ’80s
for the same reason our ancestors painted in caves 32,000
years ago. Even when his
paintings were earning him a
fortune, Basquiat continued
to paint for free when he felt
inspired. He needed to create.
By and large, intellectual
property earns nothing for the
originator, yet it is responsible
for more fortunes than anything
else. Geniuses, morons, every
Joe and Jane Six-Pack alike pull
an endless supply of intangible
assets out of thin air every day,
filling our world with musical, literary, and artistic work,
as well as computer programs,
patents, trade secrets, designs,
and garbage. By virtue of the
fact that you’re reading Premier
Guitar, it’s a safe assumption
that you, dearest reader, create
music. Let me fill you in on the
money in songwriting.
Shares: When you write a
song, you immediately own the
song— 100 percent of the songwriter’s share and 100 percent of
the publisher’s share. The song
exists as soon as you’ve written or
recorded it, and can potentially be
worth money. The profits from a
song are split evenly between the
writer(s) and publisher.
What’s a publisher? Before
recordings, songwriters earned
money from sheet music printed by publishers. Today, publishers don’t print much music,
but they do administrate copyrights, license songs, and collect
royalties for songwriters. Most
importantly, publishers pitch
songs to recording artists to get
cuts. Publishers also pay for
recording demos of songs and
often pay writers a “draw” (a
monetary advance against future
royalties earned). If the writer’s
songs earn money, the publisher
recoups the advance through
the writer’s share of royalties. If
the songs never make money,
the publisher takes a loss.
Do you need a publisher? A
great publisher works wonders.
Bob Dylan did not become a
legend because of his first few
poor-selling albums. His publisher got his songs recorded
by the Byrds, the Mamas &
the Papas, Peter Paul & Mary,
Sonny & Cher, the Hollies, the
Association, the Turtles, and
nearly every other successful
act in the ’60s. After his songs
hit for others, people discovered Dylan’s own recordings.
Publishing worked for Dylan,
but it’s not for everybody.
My publishing odyssey.
When I learned one could make
money writing songs, I wanted
in. I located a successful songwriter and bugged him to listen
to my music. After some bribing
and pestering, he agreed. I was
thrilled when he said he liked
one of my songs, and ecstatic
when he said he would make
the song better with a co-write,
then publish it and record a
demo. However, the changes
made the song sluggish and
the demo laid there like lox. At
first, there was some interest
in the song, but then it cooled
and now withers away in the
Polygram song mausoleum with
a million other worthless songs.
The 1996 film Basquiat chronicles
the life of street artist Jean-Michel
Basquiat, who began painting
when he was living in a cardboard
box in New York City.
It worked out fine. We
became friends and wrote a
few more songs that were cut
and made their way onto some
major-label albums and a film.
This led to my first writing deal,
which led to my second writing
deal, which led to a few failed
development record deals (on
Atlantic and Asylum), which led
to my happy, little weird life of
playing and writing music.
Today, I hold my publish-
ing. Harry Fox agency col-
lects my mechanical royalties.
(Those are royalties paid for
the reproduction of songs on
CD and other devices sold on
a “per unit” basis. The cur-
rent rate is $.091 for songs
lasting five minutes or less.)
Synchronization licenses (a fee
paid when music is synchro-
nized to images like film), I
work out on a per-deal basis.
For example, a song I wrote
and recorded with my band
the Tennessee Hot Damns just
landed in a movie. I worked
out a small licensing fee
because I’m happy to get expo-
sure for the Hot Damns. Also,
when the movie hits HBO
or Showtime, I will probably
make some jack through BMI,
an organization that collects
my “public performance” roy-
alties. (These are fees radio,
TV, and internet broadcasters
must pay BMI, ASCAP, or
SESAC, who collect income
on behalf of songwriters and
music publishers when a song
is publicly broadcast.)
JOHN BOHLINGER
John Bohlinger is a
Nashville multi-instrumentalist best known for his
work in television. He led
the band for all six seasons of NBC’s hit program
Nashville Star, as well as the 2011, 2010,
and 2009 CMT Music Awards and many
specials for GAC, PBS, CMT, USA, and
HDTV. Watch him perform on You Tube,
and check out his new band the Tennessee
Hot Damns on Facebook and i Tunes.
