Economist | Knock-knock-knockin on Jodys door

The music industry

Knock-knock-knockin on Jodys door

Selling your songs makes sound commercial sense. But it may not always t the brand

Dec 12th 2020 | words 612

THIS WEEK Bob Dylan sold his song catalogue to Universal Music Publishing Group. Mr Dylan, like other musicians, has not been able to tour during the pandemic. Cashing in now will spare him the bureaucracy of future tax payments. Universals chief executive, Jody Gerson, has not disclosed how much the group paid. Mr Dylan has put his thoughts about the deal into ballad-form. It came into our hands thanks to a Mr Tambourine Man.

Hey! Ms Universal, Maam, play my songs for me

In the clouded covid mourning Ill sell em all to you

My weariness amazes me, Im branded on my feet

I have no one to sing to

And the ancient empty streets dead set for streaming

We live in a commercial world

Love dont have any place

Life is in mirrors, death disappears

Up the steps into the nearest bank

Papas bank book wasnt big enough

And I was standin on the side of the road

Lord knows Ive paid some dues gettin through

Tangled up in red tape

I never said nothing, there was nothing I wrote

I went with the woman

In the long black stretch-limo

Oh, Bob said to Jody G, Name me a sum

Jody says, Man, you must be puttin me on

Bob say, No. Jody say, What?

Bob say, You must pay what I want Jody

But next time they play my songs youre in the mon

Ey. Jody says, When you want this payin done?

Bob says, In structured payments in the next three tax years.

How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a financier?

Yes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows

That the live-performance industry is in severe recession?

Yes, n how many years can some people exist

Before they capitalise their ongoing revenues?

The answer, my friend, is contained on p96 of the offer document

I aint gonna work on no ones farm no more

No, I aint gonna work on no ones farm no more

Well, I tried my best

To find the highest price

And Universal wants me

To sell it to them

So I aint gonna work on no ones farm no more

Ring them opening bells at the NYSE

So the people will know

Oh its rush hour now

Ring them closing bells for the chosen few

who will judge when the dividend is due

Bring them Nobels for the child that cries

When innocence dies

You say youre lookin for someone

Whos never venal but always strong

To protect you and defend you

From the greed you think is wrong

Someone to turn their back on Mammons law

But it aint me, babe

No, no, no, it aint me, babe

It aint me youre lookin for, babe

How does it feel

Like a complete tycoon

Like a rolling stone?

Hey! Ms Universal, Maam, play my songs for me

In the clouded covid mourning Ill sell em all to you

Universal Music Publishing Group