✘ Defining Solidarity Leadership in Music
- Putting the collective first - fair and equitable music ecosystems - creating 'communities across social distinctions' - Acting TOGETHER - Crediting collaborators
Hi all,
I’m thrilled to introduce Brodie Conley to the MUSIC x family today. I’ve worked with Brodie on various research through Water & Music and he’s one of the keenest thinkers I’ve come across. Here, he tackles a thorny, but important, issue - leadership. Enjoy the read.
Love, Maarten
Within the music industry, the pinnacle of exceptional leadership has always been tied to market-based success that is premised on album sales, chart numbers, quarterly financials, and revenues. Take a peek at a few of the annual reports from major industry organizations and you’ll find that they focus squarely on showcasing artist and executive ‘leaders’ through the lens of ‘charts’, ‘top sellers’, ‘market share’, and other metrics reflecting consumption.
The prevalence of these market-first leadership narratives in music has, arguably, been heightened by the modern history of the industry, where a historic drop in revenues, owing largely to internet piracy, was turned around through a digital transition often told through the story of daring executive leaders that took chances on new, innovative business models.
Defining and valuing leadership as based primarily on achieving strong, market-based outcomes is, of course, highly incentivized. Broadly, executives have a fiduciary duty to maximize financial outcomes for owners and shareholders, with compensation packages and bonuses that are often tied to financial targets (not to mention company stock prices, for which many executive leaders in music hold shares). In this sense, being a good leader for an organization is defined solely by metrics of financial success. Similarly, for artists, market success aligns with narratives of prestige and celebrity, and yields further career opportunities.
This idea of success is similarly reproduced across media coverage of music. Trade media stories focus on earnings reports and year-over-year growth, which is framed as the result of the steadfast leadership of artists and chief executives. Media profiles and annual ‘power’ lists of artists and industry professionals primarily focus on those who have delivered market success—selling the most albums, producing the largest revenue growth, and driving the most value back to owners and shareholders. From the media POV, these narratives make for exciting reading. Financial leadership is socially valorized. Stories of how individuals overcome the odds and use their strategic bravado to drive financial success are popular and help to drive clicks and sell ads, even if they don’t fully reflect reality (and fail to acknowledge the large teams of people whose work underlies the success produced).
Leadership, understood in this manner, reflects the particular version of market-based capitalism under which we live, where, invariably, it is important to recognize financial success. Likewise, the business intelligence contained within financial leadership narratives can be useful to strategic decision making in the industry, so it serves an instrumental purpose.
Leadership, though, needs to be instrumentalized beyond financial gain, as a means to strengthen the health and sustainability of the music industry. We need transformative leadership that produces solidarity, and results in collective action towards building a better, more fair, and equitable music ecosystem.
Of course, defining what makes a “fair and equitable music ecosystem” invites a range of answers, but there are some common outcomes that I think are easy to agree on. Broadly, a more equitable music ecosystem increases the number of marginalized and underrepresented people in music, from artists to professionals; it creates more opportunities for more artists and workers to make sustainable careers in music by ensuring that the pie is more fairly distributed to support a long tail and, in turn, ensures long term sustainability for the music industry; it makes workplaces in music better for all, from the top executives to the record warehouse and shipping department; and finally, it uses music to support broader global struggles for justice, whether through direct advocacy and activism, fundraising, and more.
What ties these outcomes together is the concept of music as an “ecosystem”. The term ‘ecosystem’ emphasizes the complex connections between the many different stakeholders in music, and the need for these constituent parts to work together to create a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. Crucially, ‘ecosystem’ calls to mind the complex interactions and interdependencies found in nature, and the need for an approach based in ongoing shared care and nurturing, rather than self-interest.
One way to move towards this vision of a better music ecosystem is to change how we define and think about leadership. What we need is a “values based” definition of leadership, or, borrowing from Astra Taylor (of Neutral Milk Hotel touring band fame) and Leah Hunt-Hendrix’s new book Solidarity, what we might call “solidarity leadership”. Taylor and Hunt-Hendrix define ‘transformative solidarity’ as a form which “aspires to create systems that benefit everyone” and which “points us toward the fundamental fellowship of humankind, connecting with others despite apparent difference.”
Following from this formulation, leadership in music can primarily be defined by the willingness to give something up—whether financial success, time, or something else—to support, defend and champion a more collective, common-focused version of the music industry. As Taylor and Hunt-Hendrix suggest, it is about “expanding one’s sense of self interest” and creating “new communities across social distinctions”. Similarly, from a music perspective, MIDiA’s Tatiana Cirisano asserts that working across fundamental financial misalignments is essential for the greater good of the music ecosystem. When applied to leadership in the music industry, this concept is about undertaking, pushing forward, and celebrating those efforts that create a “sense of shared responsibility or shared fate”, as a means of generating momentum for collective action. This means engaging in activities that put others first, beyond the self interest of a single individual or organizational stakeholder, whether artist, label, festival booker, ticketing company, or other.
What does solidarity leadership in music look like in practice?
Solidarity leadership can be a lot of different things, and can take place at multiple scales—from the individual to the institutional. Though, as Taylor and Hunt-Hendrix point out, it can’t only be about individual actions, and importantly, must include activity that supports “larger collective engagement” (individual actions can and should, however, form the basis for and motivate collective action). It is about undertaking actions that can lead to systemic change towards a better music industry.
Ultimately, though, solidarity leadership is kind of like the famous US Supreme Court ruling on defining obscenity, you’ll know it when you see it, and it’s not hard to spot.
It is system-level groups, like Keychange or the United Musicians and Allied Workers (UMAW), that work to change the underlying structures of the music industry to more fairly distribute rewards. These organizations get the momentum rolling. They provide the structures through which others might sign on and become part of collective action towards a better music industry. Importantly, it’s also individuals—often volunteers—who give up their time to get these groups off the ground.
It’s a festival booker, label boss, or industry leader picking up the ball and running with it by putting values first and working to develop, make and meet commitments that ensure their businesses are more representative of and inclusive to underrepresented and marginalized people. It’s about re-structuring organizations to properly value the diversity of humans that underlie their success. This means putting in real resources and effort into changing and overturning systems, and yes, it means giving up time, money, power, and more.
It’s Mira Silvers and Seny Kassaye, who in addition to running their extremely busy booking agency founded FEMINAE NOX, a femme-driven non-profit that prioritizes equity for Black, Brown, Indigenous and other racialized women, femme, and gender non-conforming people working or seeking to work in live music and nightlife.
It’s Kingsley Swim, a 2023 Keychange Innovator, who regularly provides barrier-free grant writing support to underserved individuals in my own community of Ottawa, to help them access funding to create music and grow their careers. Launching August 2024 under her brand The Framework, she also co-developed WARP, a microgrant and mentorship program for DIY event organizers and curators, in collaboration with other local Ottawa culture leaders Debaser, The Moving Art Gallery and Produced By Youth.
It’s artists acting in solidarity with each other, including those who have achieved career success reaching back to lift up and collaborate with artists from their own communities, and using their own clout to advocate for fairer systems for all artists. The Sylvan Esso founded label Psychic Hotline, built on values of artist fairness, comes to mind here.
It’s organizing a music business or organization in a way that benefits the workers who put their sweat and tears into it, because they love music and art. It’s New Feeling, a Canadian music journalism coop, bringing workers and community together to create a more humane music media ecosystem. And Ampled, a now defunct cooperative of artists, workers, and community members, that built a fairer artist funding platform (and then voted to open source their code for others to use and build on, despite the commercial incentives to keep it private).
It’s artists standing up for human rights and inciting change, despite potential negative consequences for their careers.
It’s music and arts businesses proactively acting to combat climate change, by committing to measuring and curbing their own environmental impact and financially supporting projects that address the climate crisis.
I realize this is a diverse list of examples. I am presenting them all precisely to emphasize the huge variety of ways through which it is possible to engage in solidarity leadership in music.
How do we move towards this new version of leadership?
It’s actually quite straightforward.
First, we should all be looking to act as solidarity leaders in our own lives and our work in music. We need to continually ask ourselves ‘what can we do to make the music industry better for everyone?’ This also means confronting our biases and organizational commitments. When we’re considering and advocating for policy reforms, creating new programs or business structures, deciding on artist signings or festival bookings, etc., we should consider what approaches will truly make the industry better, more equitable, and more sustainable over the long term, and not just benefit our immediate interests.
It then requires acting. This can sometimes be uncomfortable. A better music industry doesn’t come for free, and it might mean speaking up against status quo approaches to highlight different values and ways of doing things, along with, as I mentioned above, dedicating time and resources—giving things up for the collective good. The effort will be worth it. Forgoing precious time, profit or reputation in the short term for a better industry for all in the long term is, ironically, one of the most valuable things you can do.
Acting TOGETHER is the best approach. Moving in ways that might challenge the status quo is easier when you do it together. Not only do many hands make for light work, but power is in the collective. Changing the institutional norms and structures of the music industry requires moving from individual to organized action, with everyone rowing in the same direction.
Second, we need to continually highlight those individuals whose actions reflect this form of solidarity leadership. This doesn’t require being a music journalist or having a massive platform. This can mean shouting out and platforming examples of solidarity leadership within your own networks, both IRL and digital (social media), and (always!) crediting your collaborators (I love this recent example of Chappell Roan tagging her entire team for supporting her recent Fallon performance). Better yet, reach out to the solidarity leaders you admire and offer support for what they’re doing. As our wonderful MUSIC x editor Maarten suggested to me when discussing this piece—think about what your skills can add, offer your service, and make connections that might push collective projects forward. Ultimately, it’s about individuals undertaking meaningful action together.
We need to do this OFTEN. It literally costs nothing to heap praise on someone doing a good thing. In a sense, championing those individuals who act as solidarity leaders is a form of solidarity leadership in and of itself (meaning you can claim some credit here as a leader, too—bravo!).
When we spread the gospel of values-based leadership it is self-reinforcing and creates new norms that become institutionalized in the DNA of the industry. Like a snowball rolling downhill, hyping up folks taking action for the collective good of the music industry pushes others to take similar actions.
Transforming the music industry
The above arguments might seem simplistic or basic. I can imagine a reader shrugging, “Of course acting to make the music industry better for everyone is the right thing to do!” But if it was as easy as it sounds, the industry would already be oriented towards a better, more equitable future. The majority of artists wouldn’t be struggling to survive, festival line-ups and executive boardrooms wouldn’t continue to look so male and white, and we’d see more experiments in equitable music business ownership.
No, it is not novel to suggest that we should all do better for our communities. But, it does bear repeating, over and over again, until it becomes so ingrained in our minds and, most importantly, our actions, that it becomes the norm, with institutional structures that follow. Solidarity leadership starts with individual action, that then begets coordinated action with others, and so forth, until one day we look up from the hard work and realize we’ve made a better music industry.
(Disclosure: I am a current board member for Debaser and New Feeling, both mentioned above.)
LINKS
Rather than the usual links to recent interesting articles covering music and tech, I wanted to instead highlight a few other solidarity leaders in music, who I look up to as inspirations.
💃 Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter (First Crush / Also Cool Mag)
✘ A perennial champion of local music, Zoë is responsible for a whole lot of the best parts of music in the Ottawa-area (which is where I live). As a promoter, Zoë has provided space for a huge diversity of the best (and weirdest) local artists to develop their music. Her long running show on campus radio station CKCU prominently plays up-and-coming artists from the region, while Also Cool, the digital music mag she co-founded, passionately tells artists’ stories. Zoë works tirelessly to open up spaces for everyone and anyone to participate and feel safe and welcome in Ottawa’s music ecosystem.
💃 Megan Jasper (Sub Pop)
✘ Megan is one of the most dedicated, community-minded folks working across music. As CEO of Sub Pop, Megan has imbued the label’s DNA with a mandate towards doing good for its community. Under her lead, Sub Pop contributes to initiatives like the VERA Project, an all-ages collaborative, space for youth to engage with music and art; SP’s long-running ‘Loser Scholarship’, which supports “art-enthused misfits” towards post-secondary education; and, the Seattle Music Commission, which works to make the city better for artists and music businesses. Megan can be found dedicating her own energies towards these initiatives and others, while championing the idea of music and underground culture as a source of social and cultural change (the label’s definition of what it means to be a ‘loser’ is worth a read).
MUSIC
While most of the world is having a Charli xcx-fuelled “‘brat’ summer”, I’ve been keeping things a little more calm and sinking into the sticky humidity that has overtaken Ottawa recently. The new record from the trio of Sam Wilkes (bass guitar), Craig Weinrib (trap drums), and Dylan Day (electric guitar)—recorded outdoors in a single California evening—is spontaneous and expansive, and really sounds like a perfect summer evening. This is their version of a hymn from the 18th century.