Tag: ASCAP

The DOJ & Songwriters Simplified (mostly)

The performing rights organization (PRO) called ASCAP was formed on February 13, 1914 when a group of about 100 American composers met at the Hotel Claridge in New York City to create a mechanism for collecting “public performance” royalties.  The 1909 Copyright Act had extended the performance right to this class of copyright holders, but it did not define exactly what “public performance” actually meant.  Part of that definition came with the Supreme Court case Herbert v Shanley Co. (1917), in which Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes offered the opinion that music played in a venue like a restaurant constitutes a “public performance” even if the customers are not charged a fee for the music itself.  The premise was, and continues to be, that the venue relies on music just like other products it needs to run the establishment, and so the music plays a key role in the profit interest of the venue.

In a 1923 case, radio broadcasts were determined also to be “public performances,” but the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) was critical of ASCAP’s monopoly control over the music and its ability to set licensing rates at will.  In response, NAB formed the competitor BMI, and when this failed to have a mitigating effect on ASCAP’s rates, the broadcasters banned ASCAP music from the airwaves.  That’s when the DOJ showed up and told everybody to get out of the pool.  Justice sued ASCAP and BMI, and both national radio networks at the time, for violation of the Sherman Anti Trust Act.  The result of this action was a rate-setting system known as consent decrees—compulsory licenses the two PROs must grant for “public performances” of their music according to rates set by a “rate court” established at the federal court for the Southern District of New York.

Cathedral RadioFor the next 70 years, the PRO licensing system under the consent decrees generally served all parties—the composer/songwriters, venues and broadcasters, and the general public.  Yes, there are anecdotes describing various ways in which the system has failed or overreached to the detriment of a venue or even a member songwriter; and these stories naturally provide grist for the anti-copyright mill that loves to portray all rights-enforcement regimes as universally extortionist.  But many of these stories cited by critics like Mike Masnick pertain to collecting organizations outside the US, and even those associated with ASCAP and BMI are either old enough or nuanced enough to require deeper consideration in context to the overall cost/benefit of the organizations over many decades.

Fast-forward to the digital-age, when “public performance” is a whole new animal.  Streaming services, which are unquestionably a benefit to consumers, simultaneously reduce demand for sales of physical media and digital downloads, and they reduce demand for traditional broadcast radio, which was the distribution format that led to the consent decrees in the first place.  Plus, streaming affects the worldwide music market almost overnight. Unfortunately, for the songwriters and composers, the rates set for a pre-streaming market were suddenly worth doodley-squat in a streaming market.  This is why you hear about a songwriter making about $30 for a million plays of a song.

So, the songwriters and composers campaigned the DOJ to amend the consent decrees in order to allow more flexibility and more efficiency in licensing—a regime that would better reflect the dramatically changed, digital market. In response, the internet industry and its network of pundits complained that the PROs would then be free to capriciously raise rates, which would “stifle innovation” and harm consumers. For copyright watchers, this is a funny one because this same crowd usually argues that existing laws are doing all the stifling, but in this special case, it’s the WWII-era regime that is actually fostering innovation. Gotta hand it to the DOJ of 1941 for anticipating Spotify like that!

By now, consumers should understand that innovation often means money—money in the pockets of OSP shareholders made on the backs of rights holders who are getting hosed.  But last month, DOJ Deputy Director Renata Hesse not only affirmed the consent decrees, but she went a step further by rejecting the practice of “fractional licensing” for works made through collaborations.  When songwriters or composers represented by different PROs collaborate on a musical work, a user has had to obtain licenses from both organizations.  Hesse ruled that either PRO may license 100% of any work in either catalogue—a decision so deaf and blind to understanding the nature of music licensing that observers like music attorney Chris Castle can only conclude that Hesse’s former role as a Google attorney provides the only rational explanation.

Meanwhile, in an August 8th post on Techdirt, Mike Masnick ‘splains how the DOJ decision was not only the right decision, but one that will be “good for songwriters,” even if the songwriters are too naive to realize it yet.  I’ll let that hubris hang there for a moment, and then quote this refrain of one of Mike’s favorite saws:

“It’s kind of insane that we have to point this out over and over again, but the legacy industry always fights against new innovations in the false belief that it will harm revenue — yet when they learn how to embrace the opportunities, it turns out that a larger audience has been created and there are even more ways to make money.” 

I can’t decide which is more arrogant, the unwavering faith that he knows better than all the songwriters what’s best for them, the feigned exasperation at having to explain it again to these dumb songwriters, or the use of the royal we in this statement.  Or was that a revealing slip?  Which we is he speaking for here?

Of course, it may not matter what the pundits think because the DOJ may have opened up Pandora’s Box to let the music fly away.

As David Lowery explains—and David has written like way more songs than Mike Masnick—the DOJ may have spawned an unenforceable clusterfuck, the result of which could be tracks disappearing from streaming and other services.  In a recent blog post, Lowery states that it could cost him thousands of dollars in legal fees to revise the contracts between him and collaborators on a portion of his catalog.  In fact, some of those collaborators have passed away, so he would have to negotiate with their estates, making the process even more complicated. Can the DOJ constitutionally compel Lowery and thousands of other songwriters and composers to incur these legal fees to rewrite these contracts? We should hope not.

So, what will songwriters in this circumstance do?  The most cost-effective thing for them to do would be to pull the tracks from ASCAP & BMI that are more trouble than they’re worth.  That will reduce the music available on streaming services and also create a thorny problem for venues currently paying PRO licenses.  Right now, the coffee house where I’m sitting has all three licenses—ASCAP, BMI, & SESAC—and can play any song without worrying about it.  What happens if portions of the ASCAP and BMI catalogs are no longer covered by their licenses?  This is just a glimpse of the “chaos” the Copyright Office and others warned the DOJ would ensue as a result of their ruling this way on consent decrees.

The entire history of American copyright is one in which the contours of the law have been reshaped to conform to changing market conditions in order to protect artists and maintain the incentive to create and distribute.  As is so often the case today, the DOJ seems to be taking the narrow, Googley-eyed view that artists will continue to create and distribute no matter what happens.  Consumers are free to decide whether the songwriters know what they’re talking about or the copyright antagonists are correct.  But if they choose to ignore the former, I really hope they like the musical stylings of the latter.

Pandora wins on appeal. But stay tuned.

This week, the 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals ruled in favor of Pandora, upholding a ruling by Judge Denise Cote in affirming the 1.85 percent of revenue cost set by the rate court as “reasonable.” Maybe, but any way you slice it, songwriters and composers are still getting hosed by streaming services  You’ve probably seen some of the headlines or statements made by songwriters you know saying things like, “20 million plays earned me about two dollars.”  Maybe you didn’t care because you figured the famous person who made that statement was already rich; but setting that logic aside, it ought to be clear that today’s generation of new songwriters and composers will not be building professional careers based on revenue streams that turn millions of plays into pennies.

Music streaming is cool and convenient, but even as the dominant players in the space congratulate themselves for being “innovators,” the reality is that a tiny handful of guys are making millions of contemporary dollars while enjoying the benefit of paying antiquated rates to publishers, who in turn pay songwriters and composers.  This is because ASCAP and BMI (generically called PROs for Performance Rights Organizations), who traditionally negotiate and collect fees on behalf of publishers for public performance licenses are locked into consent decrees whereby a court has set the rate at 1.85 percent of revenue for radio broadcasting.  Spokespeople for ASCAP have consistently pointed out the absurdity that this particular class of artists is more regulated than the corporations that profit by using their work. As such, the PROs back the proposal of the Songwriters Equity Act in an effort to change rate setting to better conform to the new market.

It should be obvious to anyone that a Pandora-like service isn’t exactly radio. The collective earnings of thousands of terrestrial radio stations add up to considerably more than the revenues of a single Pandora.  At the same time, a single Pandora reaches a global audience, even obviating the need for listeners to use terrestrial radio at all.  That’s just technological progress, and nobody hopes or expects to put that genie back in the bottle.  But because the one Pandora is allowed to pay the same percentage of earnings as the collective of all terrestrial stations, that’s the reason millions of plays worldwide translates into pocket change for songwriters and composers.

So, in a nutshell, the appellate court ruled that ASCAP may not raise its rates to new benchmarks that would be aligned with this dramatic shift in the market, and it also ruled that the individual publishers Sony/ATV and UMG may not withdraw only their digital rights from ASCAP  in order to negotiate those specific licenses separately with Pandora.  But consumers should not assume this is a “win” for streaming that will perpetuate their desire to have all the music they want for free for the rest of time.  Because now the major publishers are faced with an all-or-nothing option.  They either leave all their rights with ASCAP and BMI or pull out entirely, which Sony/ATV’s CEO has already indicated may be the response to the courts not allowing them to extricate themselves from the outdated consent decrees. Meanwhile, the Department of Justice is reviewing the consent decrees and may yet recommend that the courts are wrong in their determination that a rights holder may not partially withdraw one of its bundle of rights without withdrawing entirely from the PRO.  Either way, that ruling will likely be the end of that particular debate.

If the larger publishers withdraw from the PROs, they’ll demand higher rates from Pandora no matter what; but attorney and blogger Chris Castle in this post suggests Pandora doesn’t care about that if they can effectively bust the PROs by forcing the big publishers to jump ship and leave the organizations populated with smaller publishers, who have limited bargaining power.  Thus, instead of a system of collective bargaining that represents both large and small publishers, we may see a bifurcated market in which the large players negotiate against one another while the smaller players continue to choke on the crumbs.

There’s no reason to assume this will mean longterm benefits for consumers, either with regard to affordable access or especially with regard to fostering and sustaining the greatest diversity of works.  At the same time, what may happen to public performance licenses other than streaming is unclear.  Presently, your local bar pays an affordable fee to be able to play damn near every song ever recorded, and it pays that fee to no more than three PROs — ASCAP, BMI, & SESAC.  If the major publishers are no longer part of those catalogs, your local bar owner, depending on what music he wants to play as well as other factors like size of the business, may have to pay for all three PRO licenses and also deal with the major publishers, who will be free to charge whatever they want based on any criteria they decide because they are no longer subject to the ASCAP consent decrees.  If nothing else, it sounds like a pain in butt for a small business owner compared to the old system, but it could get rather complicated when you consider the number and types of venues, even websites, around the world that traditionally cover their music needs with one to three blanket license fees.

Whatever is to come, people should be clear that Pandora’s strategy isn’t about consumers, it isn’t about innovation, and it sure as hell isn’t about competition.  Nobody I know dislikes  streaming in principle. What’s not to like?  But it’s not THAT innovative. If you didn’t see it coming at least by the time Napster became a thing, you weren’t paying attention. The companies that have emerged as dominant players in this space aren’t particularly great visionaries; they’re just the guys who were in the right place at the right time to capitalize on a relatively obvious means of distributing music akin to what we historically called “radio.”  So, let’s not beat the word innovation to death when talking about companies like Pandora; and let’s especially not get suckered into thinking this is about competition.

It is the nature of business leaders to want to dominate, which is healthy in a market that doesn’t foster natural monopolies.  Unfortunately, the Internet does foster natural monopolies. Why do you think Google+ couldn’t take, or even share, the market with Facebook?  Because most of us don’t really need two of the same kind of social media environments  in our lives.  Hell, many of us, have to force ourselves to limit the use of just one.  It doesn’t matter how dominant Google is in other areas or how good their programmers are; the Internet generally favors one winner at a time in certain lines of business. And so it may be with music streaming.

On that note, it will be interesting to watch the relaunch of Apple’s entry into the streaming market. Reported to be a subscription-only service, Apple may be in a position to offer the best available terms to all publishers and re-assert itself as the only game in town much as it did with digital downloads in the wake of Napster. Of course that move was directly tied to sales of a little device called the iPod, produced by the company that rules in the arena of attracting customers to new gadgets.  Streaming, of course, isn’t about gadgets, at least it’s not about any one particular gadget.  At the same time, both European and US trade officials are already investigating whether or not Apple is using its still-dominant position in digital downloads as leverage against rivals like Spotify and Pandora.  Sure, but again, I think there are natural reasons why one player at a time will be dominant, regardless of trade regulations.

Whether it’s Pandora, Spotify, YouTube, Apple, or some other company, one downside of digital, worldwide distribution is that consumers may not need more than one service provider when all is said and done. And, if all this is heading toward consolidation of delivery models and consolidation of production models, while limiting the variety of career paths for the next generation of writers and composers, there is no guarantee that either consumers or makers of music are going to win in the long run.  As with other copyrights, the so-called reformers seeking “balance” in the new market are only too happy to leave intact any outdated provisions that favor their own earnings to the detriment of those whose works are essential for their business models to work at all.

Music Creators Seek Reform of Consent Decree

In his recent testimony before congress, songwriter and president of ASCAP Paul Williams remarked that it was astonishing to realize that he and fellow witness, songwriter Rosanne Cash, were subject to more government regulation than the multi-billion-dollar corporations whose interests were represented in the same hearing.  What Williams was referring to with that remark is the fact that licensing fees for certain public performances of works by composers and songwriters are still predicated on a WWII-era consent decree between ASCAP and the DOJ.  This decree granted a federal judge (aka the “rate court”) the sole right to set rates for these public performances, but for a market that looks nothing like the one we have today.

It is thanks to these outdated licensing terms that we continue to hear from various music composers and writers that, for instance, millions of plays of their songs on a streaming service like Spotify is worth less than a couple-hundred bucks.   And as the songwriters and composers presently lobby for change, we’ll surely be hearing plenty of hew and cry from Pandora, Spotify, and Google.  After all, when these tech companies evangelize new models, innovation, and disruption, they only really mean it if it’s good for their bottom line; so if a half-century-old law or system allows them to exploit someone else’s work in order to add a few million to their own coffers, then “old models” sound just fine. They won’t come out and say “leave the old system in place;” that would be too regressive-sounding and too bluntly honest.  Instead, they’ll try to scare consumers in one way or another that their streaming services will cease to operate or have to adopt new pay models or charge more for access, and so on; but the reality is that while these services dangle cheap and free in front of consumers in the short term, failure to reform the present system may result in higher prices, disenfranchised licensees, and/or decreased diversity in production over the long term.  Meanwhile, there’s no question songwriters and composers are getting pretty well hosed, shackled to an obsolete model from which they can neither effectively opt out nor negotiate within as free agents in a normal supply/demand market.

This matters now because streaming is how consumers want to listen to music, and why wouldn’t we?  If I’m in the mood to listen to a song I haven’t downloaded, I launch Spotify just like anyone else. Who wouldn’t want such on-demand convenience?  And for free?  But our convenience is presently subsidized by the dramatic underpayment of songwriters and composers who are increasingly dependent on revenue from this new way we want to listen to music. At the same time, these creators of the music we love are the folks without any other source of revenue.  They don’t tour, and they don’t sell merchandise.  Elton John is a big damn star and a knight and all that, but I don’t think anyone ever bought a Bernie Taupin tee shirt, if you know what I mean.

Music licensing can be confusing.  There are multiple ways to use music and different rights associated with each use as well as multiple stakeholders with any given track.  Readers will thank me for not attempting to wade too deeply into all the variables; I’d probably get some of it wrong, and it’s not exactly spellbinding.  Suffice to say that the rights associated with the consent decree and its reform are public performance rights covering uses like radio broadcasting, music streaming, live performance by musical artists, and uses in venues like bars, restaurants, and theaters.  Licenses for these types of use are granted automatically upon request, and they are generally bulk licenses covering tens of thousands of songs for a single, annual fee paid to a performing rights organization, commonly called a PRO.

ASCAP was the first PRO (founded in 1914) and is the largest of these organizations, followed by BMI, but in the present landscape, other PROs have emerged that are not subject to the consent decree.  Still, a PRO the size of ASCAP enables hundreds of billions of typical public performances for users through a collective licensing and fee structure that compensates the organization’s membership of composers, songwriters, and publishers.  For instance, the coffee house where I’m writing at the moment has a sign on the door with the logos of the three leading PROs because this place hosts open-mic nights and other live performances, and it has music playing continuously during normal hours.  A little venue like this pays a relatively low licensing fee that provides blanket coverage for this type of public performance, allowing any local musician to come in and play any cover she wants for whatever size crowd will fit in here.  In a similar way, if I wanted to use music incidentally on this blog site, I could get a license with the three major PROs for a few hundred bucks a year and have the use of just about every song in existence.

Without reform of the consent decree, the PROs could see the resignation of major publishers from membership, effectively abandoning collective licensing.  This would mean individual negotiations between publishers and new media services, which would almost certainly increase costs that would be passed on to consumers one way or another and would also create unnecessary burdens for traditional licensees like my local coffee house.  It is not hard to imagine a future in which the full adoption of music streaming wipes out a whole class of professional music creators. After all, nobody can argue that a sustainable market can be built on a model in which “success” in the primary market buys a half-order of groceries once in a while.  And regardless of what the Pandoras etc. may say in defense of the current system, there is simply no way they can promise that a world without professional songwriters and composers will not be a world devoid of the kind of music we’ve been lucky to enjoy so far.

Adding insult to injury, many start-up Internet companies offering music streams as the foundation of their business model are employing stall tactics to avoid paying any licensing fees at all.  The Silicon Valley culture has a long tradition of steal now, apologize and pay something later, and the PROs are seeing this first-hand with various web businesses.  Once the request for a license is made, it has to be granted; but then the PRO requests information about the applicant’s use, audience, etc. in order to set a fee.  ASCAP and the others are seeing a trend in which these companies stall on providing information and, therefore, stall on paying any fees while freely using all the music they want in order to grow their business.  (Man, I’d like to see somebody try that with construction and the cement supply company.  Just once.)  The recourse available to the PRO in this case is federal court, which is costly and time consuming.

Presently, the songwriters, composers, and publishers are proposing certain reforms to congress that release them from this outdated consent decree and enable them to negotiate (still through the PRO) more flexibly in response to current market realities.  For instance, ASCAP proposes shifting cases from the purview of the federal rate court to a more expedited process of private arbitration; and it calls for voluntary rather than compulsory licenses in order to create bundles of works, allowing the PRO to license music more complexly than the all-or-nothing model that exists now.   With these types of reforms, the PROs feel they can negotiate sustainable fees for songwriters and composers while keeping intact the collective licensing paradigm that keeps public performance licensing easy and affordable for tens of millions of users.