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

 

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







\n

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

 

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







\n

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