Want your own recording label? Producing music has never been easier or cheaper.
Richard Budrik, 54, had been manager of a Manhattan wine store for two decades when he decided last year to start his own record label. Huh? A middle-age man who knew zip about the shark-eat-shark music business? Throw money into an industry that was laying off thousands of workers?
Budrik, though, did not have to risk his life savings, as he might have done a generation ago. He invested a measly $5,000. More surprising: In just 18 months his little label, Premier Cru Music, has pulled in revenue of $16,000 and has gotten worldwide airplay on BBC radio. Budrik woke up one morning to find himself producer of a Bangkok disc jockey's top-five pick.
Technology has done to the marketing of recorded music what it did a decade ago to the publishing of the printed word--lowered the barrier to entry down to just about zero. Clay Pasternack, chairman of the Association for Independent Music, says you can put out a CD for as little as $1,000. There's no official count, but he estimates that between 2,500 and 5,000 amateurs started up record labels last year. So what if three-fourths of these entrepreneurs will be gone within two years?
Budrik, a fervent fan of everything from Spanish bullfight music to classic jazz, teamed up with musician George Katsiris, 25, in his venture. The two met when Budrik hired Katsiris as a salesman for the Wine Cart, the store Budrik manages on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Their label's name is supposed to be a nod to both first-growth wines and to hip-hop, a genre whose musicians refer to their ensembles as crews. Premier Cru's first release, Enjoy Detroit, sounds like it could be background for a noir Tokyo nightclub. "Down-tempo lounge groove," Katsiris calls it.
Four of the cuts on Enjoy Detroit are pieces Katsiris wrote and recorded. A frugal, clean-cut Michigan State grad with a degree in philosophy, he made Budrik's money go a long way. His recording gear consisted of a ten-year-old Gibson electric guitar, a Rhodes analog keyboard (borrowed), a $70 Shure microphone, a three-year-old Macintosh G3, a copy of Reason music-composition software lent to him by a friend and an old Moog synthesizer that he got for 50 bucks. Only one cut has a live instrument other than Katsiris' guitar and keyboard; he persuaded a saxophonist friend to play (for free). Katsiris didn't even pay rent on the apartment where he laid down his tracks; he was staying with lawyer friend Frank Ferrari, 32, who did the label's legal work for a no-cash fee.
The other five songs on the album were donated by musician friends. The cover art was a freebie from a graphic designer Katsiris met through a friend, as was the design of premiercrumusic.com. On future albums Katsiris says he and Budrik plan to let the composers and performers share a royalty stream of 50% of wholesale revenue. The graphic designer will also get a percentage on upcoming albums. Lawyer/friend Ferrari owns 10% of the company. Budrik and Katsiris split the remaining 90%.
The most improbable move for Premier Cru was Katsiris' decision to make the first album an old-fashioned vinyl record, instead of a CD. Reason:Many radio disc jockeys favor vinyl for its distinctive sound quality.
By opting to release a record, Premier Cru reaped another benefit of the technology revolution: the breakup of the vinylmakers. Two decades ago record-pressers insisted on runs of at least 10,000. Now little companies like the Music Connection in Manhattan, where Katsiris made his record, do smaller pressings. The label paid $4,000 for its initial run of 1,000, which included full-color jackets, shrink-wrap and a one-time payment for the metal stamper. Subsequent pressings would cost about a dollar a record. (CDs can be burned for about a buck apiece, including jewel case and artwork.)
When the first copies of Enjoy Detroit came off the press, Katsiris himself flogged them at 30 or so retail stores in Manhattan that specialize in vinyl. Fifteen agreed to buy four or five copies each, at $7 a pop. Small potatoes. Then Katsiris and his girlfriend, Phoenix Roberts, who does marketing (gratis) for the label, started sending copies to distributors, magazines and disc jockeys.
Premier Cru's lucky break came when a BBC deejay, Gilles Peterson, played two of the label's cuts on the BBC's pop music station, heard worldwide. The tunes caught on in Asia and Europe. Third Ear, a record label and distributor with offices in London and Tokyo, has since paid Premier Cru a $10,000 advance to license a 15-song version of Enjoy Detroit that it's releasing on vinyl and on CD.
What's next? An album with hip-hop producer Kenny Flav, who worked on Mary J. Blige's recent platinum-selling album No More Drama. The project includes such big-name talent as Queen Latifah. It's all a far cry from used keyboards and donated performances. As for Budrik, he says he loves the novelty and uncharted adventure his label has brought into his life. But he's still got his day job.
You, the Record Mogul by Susan Adams
Richard Budrik, 54, had been manager of a Manhattan wine store for two decades when he decided last year to start his own record label. Huh? A middle-age man who knew zip about the shark-eat-shark music business? Throw money into an industry that was laying off thousands of workers?
Budrik, though, did not have to risk his life savings, as he might have done a generation ago. He invested a measly $5,000. More surprising: In just 18 months his little label, Premier Cru Music, has pulled in revenue of $16,000 and has gotten worldwide airplay on BBC radio. Budrik woke up one morning to find himself producer of a Bangkok disc jockey's top-five pick.
Technology has done to the marketing of recorded music what it did a decade ago to the publishing of the printed word--lowered the barrier to entry down to just about zero. Clay Pasternack, chairman of the Association for Independent Music, says you can put out a CD for as little as $1,000. There's no official count, but he estimates that between 2,500 and 5,000 amateurs started up record labels last year. So what if three-fourths of these entrepreneurs will be gone within two years?
Budrik, a fervent fan of everything from Spanish bullfight music to classic jazz, teamed up with musician George Katsiris, 25, in his venture. The two met when Budrik hired Katsiris as a salesman for the Wine Cart, the store Budrik manages on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Their label's name is supposed to be a nod to both first-growth wines and to hip-hop, a genre whose musicians refer to their ensembles as crews. Premier Cru's first release, Enjoy Detroit, sounds like it could be background for a noir Tokyo nightclub. "Down-tempo lounge groove," Katsiris calls it.
Four of the cuts on Enjoy Detroit are pieces Katsiris wrote and recorded. A frugal, clean-cut Michigan State grad with a degree in philosophy, he made Budrik's money go a long way. His recording gear consisted of a ten-year-old Gibson electric guitar, a Rhodes analog keyboard (borrowed), a $70 Shure microphone, a three-year-old Macintosh G3, a copy of Reason music-composition software lent to him by a friend and an old Moog synthesizer that he got for 50 bucks. Only one cut has a live instrument other than Katsiris' guitar and keyboard; he persuaded a saxophonist friend to play (for free). Katsiris didn't even pay rent on the apartment where he laid down his tracks; he was staying with lawyer friend Frank Ferrari, 32, who did the label's legal work for a no-cash fee.
The other five songs on the album were donated by musician friends. The cover art was a freebie from a graphic designer Katsiris met through a friend, as was the design of premiercrumusic.com. On future albums Katsiris says he and Budrik plan to let the composers and performers share a royalty stream of 50% of wholesale revenue. The graphic designer will also get a percentage on upcoming albums. Lawyer/friend Ferrari owns 10% of the company. Budrik and Katsiris split the remaining 90%.
The most improbable move for Premier Cru was Katsiris' decision to make the first album an old-fashioned vinyl record, instead of a CD. Reason:Many radio disc jockeys favor vinyl for its distinctive sound quality.
By opting to release a record, Premier Cru reaped another benefit of the technology revolution: the breakup of the vinylmakers. Two decades ago record-pressers insisted on runs of at least 10,000. Now little companies like the Music Connection in Manhattan, where Katsiris made his record, do smaller pressings. The label paid $4,000 for its initial run of 1,000, which included full-color jackets, shrink-wrap and a one-time payment for the metal stamper. Subsequent pressings would cost about a dollar a record. (CDs can be burned for about a buck apiece, including jewel case and artwork.)
When the first copies of Enjoy Detroit came off the press, Katsiris himself flogged them at 30 or so retail stores in Manhattan that specialize in vinyl. Fifteen agreed to buy four or five copies each, at $7 a pop. Small potatoes. Then Katsiris and his girlfriend, Phoenix Roberts, who does marketing (gratis) for the label, started sending copies to distributors, magazines and disc jockeys.
Premier Cru's lucky break came when a BBC deejay, Gilles Peterson, played two of the label's cuts on the BBC's pop music station, heard worldwide. The tunes caught on in Asia and Europe. Third Ear, a record label and distributor with offices in London and Tokyo, has since paid Premier Cru a $10,000 advance to license a 15-song version of Enjoy Detroit that it's releasing on vinyl and on CD.
What's next? An album with hip-hop producer Kenny Flav, who worked on Mary J. Blige's recent platinum-selling album No More Drama. The project includes such big-name talent as Queen Latifah. It's all a far cry from used keyboards and donated performances. As for Budrik, he says he loves the novelty and uncharted adventure his label has brought into his life. But he's still got his day job.
You, the Record Mogul by Susan Adams