Convergence and the Music Industry

We all know the dilemma facing the current music industry with regards to file sharing and piracy. The music industry as a whole has lost millions from the evolution of file sharing: from the very beginning, to Napster, to Kazaa and Acquisition, to downloading mp3s from YouTube, and so on. The music industry has changed dramatically with these technological advances and medium offerings, but we are informed about this mostly from the big producing conglomerates that provide the music through legal means and have come up with new ways to attempt to bounce back, like with iTunes for example. My question is: what are the musicians and creative artist’s responses to this piracy? How has piracy and our new culture of free sharing and collaborating through the Web affected their process of creating or distributing music?

I think the music and entertainment industry will always change, evolve, and grow, but it is interesting to think about how our virtual, sharing culture will affect the creative artists that we love so much and how the audience will respond to their potential recoil. One of the chapters in Jenkins’ Convergence Culture discusses how some television shows are courting the idea of subscription-based television, where the show would not be edited for content or air time and it would basically be the fans supporting the production of the show. Will this idea be explored for music?

FRONTLINE, a journalistic site for PBS, has industry information and response on this topic. “Similarly, Los Angeles DJ Nic Harcourt worries about the effect of the business environment on new artists. "It just saddens me that there are people whose careers are, you know, basically put on hold because of the way the music business operates, or who never get an opportunity to really develop artists, because those days are gone," he tells FRONTLINE” (Wiser). Does our virtual environment stifle the progress of the artists we love and support? Also, does our sharing culture stifle upcoming artists and result in their dismissal before they even have a chance to perform for us?

On the other hand, is it positive or negative that we are putting more pressure on artists to deliver and make every song a quality creation instead of just two or three singles on the whole CD? “However, not everyone argues that industry consolidation will cause the quality of music to suffer. "I think that great artists are going to find an audience regardless of what the media is and regardless of what the big record companies are," says Danny Goldberg, chairman and CEO of Artemis Records. "There's still enough oxygen in the society to nourish certain kinds of geniuses. The Bob Dylan of the future will somehow find an audience in this era."” (Wiser).

This brings up the question of why making your new album free on the Internet for your fans (or “leaking it”) has become such a popular trend. Is it because the selling of their actual songs is not a legitimate source of income anymore? Is it really just the advertising industry that pays for all of the bills now? That and I guess going on concert tours (which are usually sponsored by big advertising conglomerates) would help support the artists. Furthermore, are artists trying to act selfless, cool, and “all about the music, not the money” when they leak their new creations online, or are they just promoting themselves because they know selling their songs will not get them much return, but good publicity and advertising will? If some artists aren’t backed by Coca-Cola, will we have to resort to a subscription-like model in order to support our bands?

Basically, my question is: does this change in power from media conglomerates to fans and the change in industry environment through our virtual, collaborative culture stifle the creative drive of artists or does it spur innovation and progress?

Here is the FRONTLINE source:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/music/inside/faqs.html

Brown Article: Community vs. Individual Identity

In his article, “Evil Bert Laden: ViRaL Texts, Community, and Collision,” James J. Brown, Jr. analyzes the definition of “community” through the aftermath of the Bert Laden photo scandal. Brown emphasizes that our interpretation of community and practices of interpretation must change “as we are forced to deal with ViRaL texts in a globalized, networked world” (Brown).

Brown argues that when we try so hard to interpret what something shocking or confusing means, we miss some of the importance of the event itself. In other words, when we try to interpret something like the Bert Laden photo being printed on controversial protest posters, we need to recognize the significance of our interpretation of the event, not just try to figure out what the photo means for our culture. “When a ViRaL text is interpreted only in the interest of coherent meaning and intention, we miss an opportunity to re-examine the roots of the interpretive impulse” (Brown). It turns out that the photo did not purposely mean anything, or rather, it was not an intentional attempt to provide symbolic commentary on Western culture; it was just a product of a “hasty Google search by a company printing posters” (Brown). The real significance of such an event is not the photo, but the fact that our culture is so globalized and connected that something like this could happen by chance. “In addition to seeking out a particular meaning behind this kind of text, we might also recognize the importance of the very possibility that Bert and bin Laden can collide and collude on the Web. The Web’s structure sets up a situation in which Bert and bin Laden can be in-community with one another, regardless of any choice on the part of Easterners or Westerners” (Brown). Because of the Internet, many more people are interacting on the same platform whether they realize it or not and this changes our whole notion of what community means. “Traditionally, “community” has been understood in terms of collaboration and the conscious efforts of a group to “get together.” However, the circulation of the Bert Laden image gives us a paradigmatic example of how such conceptions of community and collaboration can be expanded when we examine what is happening on the Web” (Brown).

I thought it was particularly interesting when Brown was describing the notion of the “unchosen community” and what it is comprised of in this modern age of connectedness. Brown suggests that community on the Web is an unconscious occurrence, something that “happens to us” (Brown) instead of something that we consciously do. “When we think of collaboration, we might envision a cohesive group that slowly works toward a common goal. Yet, the Web allows for collaboration across space and time, collaboration that happens amongst people with different (and sometimes competing) agendas, and collaboration amongst those who never intended to be working together” (Brown). Brown goes further to explain that conscious communities only form because of unconscious ones. “…It is the collisions that remind us that such conscious collaboration and coalescing happens only in response to our constant predicament of being in-community with a broad range of others” (Brown). This convergence culture has significant implications on our traditional interactions with each other and our notion of identity.

Most people currently have a clear idea of who they are, what culture they belong to, and what that culture represents, but with so much mixing and interacting through the Internet, the idea can become hazy. “For this reason, “the degree of autonomy of each culture is significantly reduced as a consequence of the global information network, and at the same time, the task of constructing a planetary culture is posed” (2006:9)” (Brown). A planetary culture, in Brown’s opinion, could lead to an “opening” towards peace because of the rise in collaboration between people of differing backgrounds. What would we, as individuals, be like in a planetary culture, or how would we change (assuming we do change)? Would we begin to have stronger bonds to communities far away from us geographically in comparison to the communities we are already involved in offline? Would our sense of self change, with a change in cultural ties?

My Political Communication class has called my attention to the many symbols, texts, and ideologies that have power over us as Americans. Most of them we unconsciously respect because they have been engrained in our heads from birth, like not letting an American flag touch the ground, tipping servers, or taking your hat off in class as a sign of respect. The many cultures we are interacting with through the Web have their own characteristics that create a sense of loose unity and identity between individuals, different from our own characteristics. But what happens when there actually is no separation between “us” and “them”? Would we still take pride in the things that hold us together as a national culture? (Not that tipping servers holds us together as a national culture, it’s just an example of one of the things we unconsciously do that other cultures may not necessarily- like Great Britain).

Jenkins, Conclusion: Social Participation

The concluding chapter of Convergence Culture focuses on the empowerment of consumers and communities through convergence culture, if they decide to actively participate in it.

Jenkins argues that popular culture serves as a platform for other, more significant, changing environments. Throughout his book, Jenkins applies certain concepts to case studies in popular media in order to demonstrate how our relationship to media is changing, without forgetting the broader implications of these changes. “What we learn through spoiling Survivor or remaking Star Wars may quickly get applied to political activism or education or the workplace” (Jenkins, 257). Convergence affects the changing environment of our culture as a whole, not just in popular media. This idea is also significant because popular culture and other areas of life, like political activism, are intersecting in a way they never have before.

An example included in the chapter is Al Gore’s attempt to “democratize television,” with his creation of an interactive news cable network called Current. “Gore held firm in his belief that enabling audience-generated content had the potential to diversify civic discourse” (Jenkins, 253). In this way, Gore is trying to solicit participation in the political sector through non-traditional forms of interaction with televised media. Another example of how our community interaction is changing is Wikipedia. Jenkins describes Wikipedia as an “adhocracy,” or a system of shifting leadership roles that lacks hierarchy, where everyone is equal overall. In reference to Wikipedia, Jenkins describes how the website is shifting the ideals and credentials of “expertise,” and that “adhocracy principles have been embraced by the open-source movement, where software engineers worldwide collaborate on projects for the common good” (Jenkins, 265). Older generations view Wikipedia as an illegitimate source of information for academia, but with a changing cultural environment, new perspectives on technological advances are necessary. To become full participants in our society, citizens must view this active collaboration as well as media reform movements as opportunities for change and not obstacles.

The uncertainty about these technological advances and this encouragement of participation is the question of how the general public will respond. Will everyone embrace convergence and participatory culture or will it be something left to a new kind of participatory elite? Jenkins asks, “whether the public is ready to push for greater participation or willing to settle for the same old relations to mass media” (Jenkins, 254). Furthermore, if not everyone participates, how will the non-participants be treated in the coming future? Can they even be involved? According to Jenkins, “A man with one machine (a TV) is doomed to isolation, but a man with two machines (a TV and a computer) can belong to a community (Jenkins, 256).

I think the most interesting factor in convergence culture is the principles by which we will relate to one another. Jenkins says, “We are trying to hammer out the ethical codes and social contracts that will determine how we will relate to one another just as we are trying to determine how this power will insert itself into the entertainment system or into the political process” (Jenkins, 256). The ways in which we interact change with the technological advances, but I think the rules or benefits of social interaction remain the same. Jenkins says, “The Long Trail model assumes an increasingly savvy media consumer, one who will actively seek out content of interest and who will take pride in being able to recommend that content to friends” (Jenkins, 263). The process of seeking content to recommend to friends feeds into the concept of basic human ideals. Some of the reasons people interact are so that they can feel accepted or have a sense of belonging, to discover hope and enlightenment through acquiring new information, to express their opinions and beliefs, and to get a general sense of happiness through social interaction. Convergence culture will change how we interact, but will it change why we interact socially because of its merging of different kinds of participation, some that do not necessarily have significant consequences and some that do (water-cooler gossip vs. political participation)?

Chapter 3: Coherency in Convergence

In the third chapter of Convergence Culture, Jenkins explains core concepts involved with the evolution of media production and convergence by using the example of The Matrix franchise. “The Matrix is entertainment for the age of media convergence, integrating multiple texts to create a narrative so large that it cannot be contained within a single medium” (97). This alternative way of creating a production or story across multiple levels of media significantly changes the audience’s approach to media production.

With a comparison to the cult following of the classical film, Casablanca, Jenkins describes why The Matrix is a groundbreaking creation. In this new cultural movement towards convergence with a more participatory audience, The Matrix is the first of its kind to successfully draw an emotional response and attachment from its subsequent audience, as Casablanca impacted its audience by changing the way people perceive and judge films. “If Casablanca exemplifies the classical cult movie, one might see The Matrix as emblematic of the cult movie in convergence culture” (100).

As seen in the example of The Matrix, this new convergence culture changes the dynamics of audience reception to media production. Now, not only do audiences become more participatory by their own will, but producers are demanding them to become more involved in many levels of their franchise in order to get more meaning and fulfillment from their production. Jenkins explains, “No film franchise has ever made such demands on its consumers…To truly appreciate what we are watching, we have to do our homework” (96). This new level of producer expectation puts more emphasis on the role of the audience member than ever before. “’What audiences make of Revolutions will depend on the amount of energy they put into it. The script is full of cul-de-sacs and secret passageways.” Viewers get even more out of the experience if they compare notes and share resources than if they try to go it alone” (97). This way of production fits the description of a concept called transmedia storytelling, which, “unfolds across multiple media platforms, with each new text making a distinctive and valuable contribution to the whole” (97-98). The idea of using multiple channels to tell a story seems very exciting and engaging for both media producers and consumers, but there is question about the coherency of this kind of production.

At what point can a story stay coherent with so many variables contributing to it? In order to avoid inaccuracies and contradictions within the narrative, media producers have practiced the concept of co-creation, where, “the [different media] companies collaborate from the beginning to create content they know plays well in each of their sectors, allowing each medium to generate new experiences for the consumer and expand points of entry into the franchise” (107). This idea seems like a good plan to entertain audiences and build consumer loyalty, but it also seems like a good plan to get as much money as possible from a single production- a goal that would probably result in narrative slip-ups.

I would think that demanding the audience to search for answers on too many technological levels would make the narrative too complicated and diluted to form a legitimate story that makes sense. I guess that is why the Wachowski brothers are so vague when interviewed about hidden messages in their movies, because so many interpretations would inevitably collide or contradict each other, resulting in the demise of the story.

Summary Response Paper 1

In his novel, Convergence Culture, Henry Jenkins describes the cultural shift occurring with a new convergence of media platforms and a change in the dynamics of audience participation. According to Jenkins, the audiences’ modes of media reception are more communal than individualistic in this new age of media convergence (26), which is leading to a more participatory culture. This active interaction between audience and media is blurring the distinction between the producer and the consumer of media content. The recurring question in this piece is, “whether changes brought about by convergence open new opportunities for expression or expand the power of big media” (11). Regarding the audience, Jenkins explains the notion of a “collective intelligence,” which is the sum total of information held individually by the members of a group,” (27). The knowledge communities that result from this collective intelligence can be exploited by media conglomerates through marketing concepts like “affective economics,” which “seeks to mold those consumer desires to shape purchasing decisions” (62) or “co-creation,” where “companies collaborate from the beginning to create content they know plays well in each of their sectors” (107). Affective economics was attempted by producers of American Idol in order to create consumers’ emotional attachment to the show. The Matrix franchise successfully accomplished something similar to co-creation through “transmedia storytelling…[which] unfolds across multiple media platforms, with each new text making a distinctive and valuable contribution to the whole” (98). The Matrix producers secured a broad, cult following through their horizontal marketing in films, anime, comics, and games. The collective intelligence can also give the audience significant power, as it did during Survivor: Season 6, where a virtual mole caused eventual disinterest in the series after publicly listing all of the season’s results before the broadcast. The audience also had power when the American Idol fan base created a backlash against the program and its sponsors after some fans felt betrayed by the voting process. Jenkins concludes his piece by mentioning the “politics of participation” (252) and how democracy is affected by our newfound power from participation in cultural convergence.

The concepts of “co-creation” and “transmedia storytelling” were of particular interest to me because I cannot decipher the primary goal of media conglomerates when introducing these media innovations. There is obvious economic gain from encouraging consumers to seek out a franchise of their interest on multiple platforms because with the rise in collaboration between media sectors, all producers win when consumers actively pursue an already established taste through multiple media outlets. The interesting part about transmedia storytelling is the attempt to allow “each medium to generate new experiences for the consumer and expand points of entry into the franchise” (107). Intertwining The Matrix films with its subsequent video games, to the point where a person does not fully understand the film without experiencing the game, shows the advancement of media technology and collaboration, and is a clear sign of convergence. The notions of “affective economics” and “lovemarks” take these ideas about franchise loyalty and expansion of consumer involvement one step further by attempting to create a loyal fan-base that “loves” the brand specifically marketed to them. “Lovemarks” are “more powerful than traditional “brands” because they command the “love” as well as the “respect” of consumers: “In reality, audiences want the new work to offer new insights and new experiences. If media companies reward that demand, viewers will feel greater mastery and investment; deny it, and them stomp off in disgust” (107). Producers walk a very thin line between delighting their fan base with new forms of artistic vision in their content, or losing fans altogether by disappointing them. People have different tastes and expectations, both of which apply to outcomes in stories, and these expectations affect the success of a project. If consumers seem more emotionally invested in creations that connect to them horizontally, that is, through different media platforms, then they can become extremely valuable assets to the franchise. If the franchise disappoints these influential fans after the fans have invested emotions and time in it, they can turn into outspoken enemies of the creative art they originally “loved,” which can have a serious effect on the franchise. This example displays the significance of the participatory audience and the depth of their influence in this new era of cultural media convergence.

Jenkins, Chapter 1: The Survival of the Collective

In the first chapter of Convergence Culture, “Spoiling Survivor,” Jenkins attempts to explain how a virtual community “reacts to a shift in its normal ways of processing and evaluating knowledge” (Jenkins, 26). Through citing another source, he presents two central ideas in this chapter about community. “[Pierre Lévy] draws a distinction between shared knowledge, information that is believed to be true and held in common by the entire group, and collective intelligence, the sum total of information held individually by the members of a group that can be accessed in response to a specific question” (Jenkins, 27). In my opinion, a balance between these two concepts represents the ideal structure of a community as a whole because if one person knows way more than other members of the community can possibly contribute, the feeling of group identity or collectivism is lost.

A specific aspect or interpretation of this chapter that interests me is: why, if the whole point of the virtual spoiling community is to find out the results of Survivor before they are made public, was there such a backlash against ChillOne for laying out the answers to the collective quest of the group? In my opinion, ChillOne robbed this virtual community of their ability to collaboratively contribute to the process of solving the Survivor puzzle, therefore robbing them of their group identity.

According to Jenkins, “what holds a collective intelligence together is not the possession of knowledge, which is relatively static, but the social process of acquiring knowledge, which is dynamic and participatory, continually testing and reaffirming the group’s social ties” (Jenkins, 54). ChillOne ruined the sense of collectivism in this particular knowledge community because he gave them most of the significant answers. This action made it pointless for others in the group to try to work through clues to figure out the results for themselves and to present a meaningful discovery or idea that hadn’t been already confirmed or discredited by ChillOne. ChillOne changed the environment from a collaborative process to a discussion about the credibility of one of its members and the validity of his information. Before, “everyone could play, contribute their expertise, apply their puzzle-solving skills, and thus everyone felt like they had a stake in the outcome” (Jenkins, 52). After he gave them the answers, they didn’t care about their own spoiling efforts anymore because, “[ChillOne] hadn’t “spoiled” the season; he “ruined” it” (Jenkins, 51).

When people contribute to a collective intelligence and give their sources of information while still inspiring others to speculate and share their own conclusions, individuals feel that they are working together to create a solution to a problem. Wezzie and Dan did this effectively because, “what they brought to the group was shared knowledge that could fuel a range of theories and speculation and that other group members could mine as they needed in the collaborative process of spoiling” (Jenkins, 51). ChillOne gave the group the answers without revealing his sources, which gave him power over the community by shifting the conversation to his credibility. In doing so, he also chipped away at the collective identity in pursuit of solving the Survivor puzzle. Jenkins quotes one participant as saying, “ChillOne won. Everybody else lost” (Jenkins, 51).

This example of ChillOne and the group’s resentment towards him brings me to my first question: Is the preservation of group identity more important than achieving the overall goal of the community in general?

ChillOne gave the community exactly what they wanted; yet they were upset about it because most felt that after, they had nothing to contribute. He sped up the process of disinterest in Survivor spoiling, as Wezzie says near the end of the chapter, by achieving the group’s overall goal on his own.

Does the social, collaborative effort make the journey to discovery more significant than the discovery itself? How much does this question apply to life outside of virtual communities and reality television? (Not to be too cliché...)

Cybersubculture Comparison Choices

I'd like to choose Youtube and Flixter to compare and contrast. If Youtube is taken, I'd like to choose Flickr.