Tuesday, June 12, 2007
My Lack of Stock Market Knowledge
I'm going to reveal my utter lack of stock market knowledge here, but I got to thinking about yesterday's post and wondered, why aren't bands, as businesses, a part of the stock market? Where are their IPOs and ROIs and ticker tape abbreviations? The really popular ones certainly have stakeholders, most of them for life.
Labels: band, business, music, stakeholders, stock market
Monday, February 12, 2007
Dave Matthews Band - Woo
I had an idea for the Dave Matthews Band, the Masters of Repackaging. The band is continually releasing albums that are compilations of previous songs, most of these compilations being live versions of songs because the band has a reputation for good live performances. I ran across a comment in the Two Knives blog that got me thinking about this. A poster named Wayne Wenzel describes how he used the music of Dave Matthews Band to pick up chicks. Then I heard the statistic that 51 percent of women in the United States are unmarried. Putting two and ten together, I thought that maybe the band should create a compilation album of their romantic songs specifically for these audiences. When I considered it further, I thought maybe this idea was silliness incarnate, but then again, maybe not. Here's how I see it. Wayne and other guys who've figured out this DMB dating strategy have hijacked the band's music for their own purposes. I'm sure the band didn't exactly intend for this to happen, it just happened. This is what is called a brand hijack. Of course, if the band's music already appeals to the ladies, then repackaging the romantic songs will surely hook them further.
The songs I'd include on such a compilation would be (in no particular order)
Crash Into Me, Captain, Crush, Dream Girl, When the World Ends, Lover Lay Down, Hunger for the Great Light, Say Goodbye, So Right, Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd, and Angel
I'd include a couple of brand new songs because when I'm shopping for DMB compilation discs, I look for ones with songs I haven't heard before. I'd create album art that was primarily smoky red, like rose petals or the foil wrapping on chocolates. Going a step further, I'd offer a little something extra with the album, both for the guys trying to get girls and for the girls to treat themselves, if they so choose. I'd offer a small box of chocolates in a collectible tin, along with a charm (probably the headless dancer that Steffan Lessard, the band's bassist, designed). Following the band's choice in Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavors, I'd make the chocolates a blend of raspberry and chocolate - or raspberry and fudge. (Their flavor is called Magic Brownies, in case you want to rush out and get some. I have the empty container sitting on my desk as a keepsake. Silly, no?)
I was trying to think of what to name such a compilation and the first thing that came to mind was "Get the Girl," but that would come off as too crass for the single ladies purchasing the album for themselves. Something like "Romance" or "Love" is too sappy. Many women are not about pink lace, frills and lavendar perfume. Yech! Then, I hit upon the title "Woo." An old-fashioned word, a little off-beat, but simple. It's also said a lot at concerts - not in the old definition of the word, but as in Woooooo-hoooooo!
Do you ever do this, reader? Come up with an idea for your favorite band? If so, please feel free to share.
The songs I'd include on such a compilation would be (in no particular order)
Crash Into Me, Captain, Crush, Dream Girl, When the World Ends, Lover Lay Down, Hunger for the Great Light, Say Goodbye, So Right, Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd, and Angel
I'd include a couple of brand new songs because when I'm shopping for DMB compilation discs, I look for ones with songs I haven't heard before. I'd create album art that was primarily smoky red, like rose petals or the foil wrapping on chocolates. Going a step further, I'd offer a little something extra with the album, both for the guys trying to get girls and for the girls to treat themselves, if they so choose. I'd offer a small box of chocolates in a collectible tin, along with a charm (probably the headless dancer that Steffan Lessard, the band's bassist, designed). Following the band's choice in Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavors, I'd make the chocolates a blend of raspberry and chocolate - or raspberry and fudge. (Their flavor is called Magic Brownies, in case you want to rush out and get some. I have the empty container sitting on my desk as a keepsake. Silly, no?)
I was trying to think of what to name such a compilation and the first thing that came to mind was "Get the Girl," but that would come off as too crass for the single ladies purchasing the album for themselves. Something like "Romance" or "Love" is too sappy. Many women are not about pink lace, frills and lavendar perfume. Yech! Then, I hit upon the title "Woo." An old-fashioned word, a little off-beat, but simple. It's also said a lot at concerts - not in the old definition of the word, but as in Woooooo-hoooooo!
Do you ever do this, reader? Come up with an idea for your favorite band? If so, please feel free to share.
Labels: band, ben and jerry's, charm, dave matthews band, idea, music, romance, steffan lessard, two knives
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Jealousy in a Skimpy Black Dress
As a creative type, I hate to admit this, but I get jealous. Not in a bad way, though. More in a spur-me-to-do-better way.
I just finished reading Susan Jane Gilman's Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress: Tales of Growing Up Groovy and Clueless. The book hilariously details Gilman's years growing up in New York City and her years beyond. She seems to have been quite the outgoing, but self-depricating child/teenager/young adult. I can't count the number of friends she discusses during her wild escapades. The chapters that really struck a chord with me were "Mick Jagger Wants Me" and "Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress." The former details her near chance encounter with Mick Jagger as she and a friend stand outside a recording studio waiting for him to appear. First Keith Richards appears. After they exchange greetings, Susan panics. She doesn't want to meet Mick this way, as a groupie outside a studio door. She had always imagined being introduced to him. She flees. Later, she gets the surprise of her life at a dinner party. Mick Jagger shows up and she is introduced to him. You'll have to read the book to find out what happens.
I can fully understand that notion of wanting to be introduced to a celebrity, as though one is a normal person and not some moony-eyed slavering devotee. There are very few celebrities I have a hankering to meet. The celebrities that really get my attention are those with incredible talent and artistry. Their writing or art or music or whatever, has to strike a chord with me. (Isn't that the way we all feel?) I hate that larger industries and the media place these people so out of reach from the rest of us. Author Michael Joseph Gross has written a wonderful book on the interrelationship between fans and stars. It's called Starstruck.
As an aside that fits this post, I had a dream last night in which my family and I hooked up with the neighbors and headed to a local park, where I was thrilled to see Dave Matthews performing (I think he was doing a solo gig, because I didn't see the rest of Dave Matthews Band). The audience wasn't very big - which is not the usual scenario at a Dave Matthews concert. Dave left the stage and headed to a spot in the grass nearby. I and several other people walked over to meet him. He appeared lost in another world. I came around behind him and gently touched his arm to get his attention. It was sweaty because he'd just been performing. Thing is, the feeling was so real for a dream that I woke with the sensation still in my fingertips. I saw that he was on a cellphone and I walked away. Meeting him simply wasn't worth bothering him.
Freudians, you may start analyzing now. I think I was considering/recognizing the humanness of a celebrity who seems to be more than human. In any case, Susan's Mick story hit home.
As for her Hypocrite chapter, man, I laughed and cried as she described her adventures in buying a wedding gown. And I cheered her on as she found one that fit so beautifully that she felt like a princess. Everyone should have a personal tailor or fitting expert.
,
Here's where the jealousy part comes in. Susan has such a fine grasp of language that knock-out descriptions pop up all over the place. For example, this one from page 93: "She used the tone adults use when they haven't the faintest idea how to relate to children - the vocal equivalent of aspartame." Can't you just feel the rotten taste on your tongue? Oooh! Green envy! I wish I could write so well. But, I have to remember, this isn't a competition between me and other writers. It's a competition between me and myself, with other writers serving as prods to my improvement.
I just finished reading Susan Jane Gilman's Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress: Tales of Growing Up Groovy and Clueless. The book hilariously details Gilman's years growing up in New York City and her years beyond. She seems to have been quite the outgoing, but self-depricating child/teenager/young adult. I can't count the number of friends she discusses during her wild escapades. The chapters that really struck a chord with me were "Mick Jagger Wants Me" and "Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress." The former details her near chance encounter with Mick Jagger as she and a friend stand outside a recording studio waiting for him to appear. First Keith Richards appears. After they exchange greetings, Susan panics. She doesn't want to meet Mick this way, as a groupie outside a studio door. She had always imagined being introduced to him. She flees. Later, she gets the surprise of her life at a dinner party. Mick Jagger shows up and she is introduced to him. You'll have to read the book to find out what happens.
I can fully understand that notion of wanting to be introduced to a celebrity, as though one is a normal person and not some moony-eyed slavering devotee. There are very few celebrities I have a hankering to meet. The celebrities that really get my attention are those with incredible talent and artistry. Their writing or art or music or whatever, has to strike a chord with me. (Isn't that the way we all feel?) I hate that larger industries and the media place these people so out of reach from the rest of us. Author Michael Joseph Gross has written a wonderful book on the interrelationship between fans and stars. It's called Starstruck.
As an aside that fits this post, I had a dream last night in which my family and I hooked up with the neighbors and headed to a local park, where I was thrilled to see Dave Matthews performing (I think he was doing a solo gig, because I didn't see the rest of Dave Matthews Band). The audience wasn't very big - which is not the usual scenario at a Dave Matthews concert. Dave left the stage and headed to a spot in the grass nearby. I and several other people walked over to meet him. He appeared lost in another world. I came around behind him and gently touched his arm to get his attention. It was sweaty because he'd just been performing. Thing is, the feeling was so real for a dream that I woke with the sensation still in my fingertips. I saw that he was on a cellphone and I walked away. Meeting him simply wasn't worth bothering him.
Freudians, you may start analyzing now. I think I was considering/recognizing the humanness of a celebrity who seems to be more than human. In any case, Susan's Mick story hit home.
As for her Hypocrite chapter, man, I laughed and cried as she described her adventures in buying a wedding gown. And I cheered her on as she found one that fit so beautifully that she felt like a princess. Everyone should have a personal tailor or fitting expert.
,
Here's where the jealousy part comes in. Susan has such a fine grasp of language that knock-out descriptions pop up all over the place. For example, this one from page 93: "She used the tone adults use when they haven't the faintest idea how to relate to children - the vocal equivalent of aspartame." Can't you just feel the rotten taste on your tongue? Oooh! Green envy! I wish I could write so well. But, I have to remember, this isn't a competition between me and other writers. It's a competition between me and myself, with other writers serving as prods to my improvement.
Labels: band, clothing, concert, creative, dave matthews band, fame, jealousy, music, susan jane gilman, writing
