As the music business struggles to reverse its declining fortunes, the Big Five record labels could do worse than to look to a bald, unassuming, 37-year-old musician for guidance. Moby, the New York-based electronic artist and DJ, has made a career out of creating and selling music in unconventional-and lucrative-ways. Every last one of the 18 songs on his 1999 album Play was licensed at least once to a movie, a TV show, or a major advertiser-a marketing plan that helped sell more than 9 million copies of the album worldwide with almost no radio support. He composes in a small studio that's attached to his SoHo loft. And for the past two summers he's revitalized the multi-artist tour with his Area Festival, which this year featured his next-door neighbor, David Bowie. During a recent interview in the austerely furnished loft, Moby talked about soccer moms, the pros and cons of record labels, and how to market music using fresh produce.
When did you first license one of your songs? And why?
In 1995 I licensed a song called "God Moving Over the Face of the Waters" to a Range Rover TV commercial in Europe. Up to that point I had been really opposed to the idea of letting my music be used in advertisements. I had been a punk rocker growing up, and I always avoided things that sort of reeked of selling out or compromise. But then I realized that letting my music be used in TV shows or movies or advertisements is an interesting marketing tool. The music I make doesn't get played on the radio, especially in the United States. If you've spent a year and a half working on a record and you've poured your sweat and your blood into it and you're really proud of it, you want people to hear it.
How much influence does your label have-or try to have-when it comes to the creative part?
With Play, my managers had to talk me into including the song "Porcelain" on the record. I didn't think that anyone would like it; it was too subtle. And that became the iconic song on the record. But all of the decisions for that album were made from a creative perspective, because no one expected it to be commercially successful. My biggest-selling record before Play was Everything Is Wrong [1993], and that sold 250,000 copies worldwide. Our desperate hope was that Play would maybe sell that much.
Have you ever consciously tried to write a commercial hit?
I've written some songs that I thought had potential to be hit singles and they've done nothing. And I've done some songs that I thought would be B-sides at best that went on to be quite successful, like "Porcelain." What was strange with Play is that every country had a different hit single. "South Side" was very successful in the U.S. but not anywhere else. "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" was a hit only in Germany. I guess it has to do with the emotional character of different countries.
After Play, did you feel pressure to make another big hit record, with 18?
I felt almost the exact opposite. It was a lot easier and more relaxed. Play took a really long time and it was really difficult. With 18, I was like, Okay, I've had a successful record, now I can pretty much do what I want. The only thing that V2 [Moby's U.S. label] did was to try to steer me away from songs that incorporated old blues and gospel vocals like I had done on Play. I told them I thought it shouldn't matter how the songs are made, they're just really nice songs. I have no regrets about the record I made, but in some ways the label was right. The majority of critical flak I've received for 18 is that it's too similar to Play.
In 1996 you released Animal Rights, a punk record that was a commercial and critical flop. Did that experience change the way you make music?
That was a very dark, difficult record. I used to think that whatever I did had to be difficult and challenging in some capacity. Since then, my attitude has changed quite a lot. I realized that I'd rather make records that could meet people halfway, instead of making records that forced people to meet me where I happened to be. Starting with Play, I began to think of making records that someone can take into their home and use on an almost utilitarian level, a record that can be personal and compelling but also atmospheric and serve as a kind of soundtrack.
Are you trying to reach more listeners now in different demographic groups, such as soccer moms?
I think more in terms of people who don't have access to cool underground media. Like when I was 12 years old in Connecticut, the only way I heard about music was through mainstream media outlets like Rolling Stone or the radio. And luckily there were bands like the Clash and Elvis Costello who were willing to be a part of that. Then, as I got older, and I got more involved in underground music culture, I realized that there are a lot of people in that world who don't want to accommodate the mainstream. And my thought had always been, what about the 12- or 13-year-old kid in the suburbs who's not exposed to anything else? Or yeah, what about the soccer moms? Or someone starting to get an MBA? These are busy adults; they don't have time to go to cool indie record shops or underground music sites online. But they still love music.
Any marketing ideas you'd like to try?
There are so many of them. Take stickers on fruit. Every piece of fruit has a sticker on it. Why not have a sticker that promotes your record on it? Or do concerts in strange places, like in the subway. Marketing doesn't have to be crass and distasteful. It can be another extension of one's creativity.
You make records alone, at home, on a computer. What are the advantages?
It gives you great creative freedom, and it costs considerably less than making records in a big, fancy studio. I have a feeling that as the budgets for making records become smaller and smaller, more people will end up making records by themselves at home. The only drawback is that you can lose objectivity that way. So I kind of do test marketing on my own. I send out demo CDs to friends and get people's opinions. I'd love to do that on a broader level, like they do with movies, because I could have a better understanding of what people like and what they don't.
What's the most significant change in the music industry over, say, the last decade?
In the last 10 years, up until a few years ago, music became insanely profitable, and as a result it attracted a lot of people who are only interested in money. And the music has suffered because of it. I mean, the commercial side of the music business has always been really interesting. I'd rather listen to a Rolling Stones record than a 35-minute free jazz composition by the Kreuzberg Quartet. The marriage of art and commerce has yielded everything from Gershwin to Led Zeppelin. It's just that lately, it's been more heavily skewed to commerce as opposed to art. And hopefully, as the commercial aspect becomes less viable, it'll become more skewed toward art again.
You've been a supporter of file-swapping services like Kazaa. Are you still? I know it's a really unpopular thing to say, but I think that downloading music is terrific. It serves more of a promotional purpose than anything else. Most people download one or two songs, and then they go out and buy the record. The whole reason I make music is so people can hear it. If someone feels compelled to download one of my songs, I'm flattered and happy.
Do you feel the same way about people burning CDs? CD burning is a very different thing altogether. How can I tell my 15-year-old cousin to go into a record store and spend $17 on a CD when he can burn it for 30 cents? If record companies want to stay in the business of selling music they should start selling CDs for $5.99. Pretty much everyone knows that's the only feasible way to make things work. But obviously, the big, huge multinational corporations are still trying to hold on to these escalating profit margins that existed before the days of CD burning.
Are major labels an endangered species? Can you envision a day when artists like you will simply hit the "send" button from the computer in their home studio to release a record?
I think it's moving in that direction. At some point, I want to have all the unreleased music I've made available on my Web site, so if people want it, they can have it. But I don't think I should be my own record label. When I first started making records in 1990, I tried managing myself and booking my own tours, and I was so bad at it. I'm perfectly happy to let other people handle the business aspect of making music.
