Likeness

The other day a Disc Makers newsletter found its way to my inbox. We used Disc Makers to get our album into CD form when it was ready for release, and now the company sends helpful tips on how to sell those CDs, presumably in the hopes that we'll be wildly successful and pay them to print more.

Anyway, this issue of the newsletter contained advice I'd heard many times before: list your "like bands":

Listing your “like” bands (the bands that you sound most [like]) will further help to define your musical category and sound. This will enable you to attract new fans via print media and the Internet, prepare you to respond to requests from "music users," and open you up to a variety of marketing strategies based on the successes of other artists and bands

In other words, "Our band sounds like They Might Be Giants and Elvis Costello." Or, more creatively, "If Britney Spears ate Metallica, she'd sound like us."^*

It's solid advice. The problem is that we're too close to our own sound to figure out who we're like, or who's like us. When asked, we fall back on comparisons other people have made throughout the years. According to spontaneous feedback from the fans, we are reminiscent of:

Carole King
Tori Amos
Janis Joplin
Early Billy Joel

None of these people sound anything like each other, but whatevs.

Does Cinder Bridge remind YOU of anyone else? Leave us your comments.

* I have no idea how Britney Spears would sound if she ate Metallica. If you're a musician and you think this describes your sound, feel free to steal it.

Should musicians have to market their own music?

John Mellencamp has an interesting article up on Huffington Post about what he thinks of today's music industry. Brief summary: not much.

On My Mind: The State of the Music Business

As no one has welcomed Cinder Bridge to the machine just yet, It's hard for me to know how much Mellencamp's perceptions of a golden bygone era are fueled by nostalgia. However, I do have some thoughts about his take on the musician as marketer:

These days, some people suggest that it is up to the artist to create avenues to sell the music of his own creation. In today's environment, is it realistic to expect someone to be a songwriter, recording artist, record company and the P.T. Barnum, so to speak, of his own career? Of course not ... The artist is here to give the listener the opportunity to dream, a very profound and special gift even if he's minimally successful. If the artist only entertains you for three and a half minutes, it's something for which thanks should be given.

Hmmm. Okay. Marketing the band isn't one of my favorite activities, and I'm not all that good at it. I like the idea that this is because I'm a sensitive important artist who's above such things. And yeah, it would be great if Ron and I had a team of people who did it all for us.

But here's the thing. Even if Cinder Bridge built a time machine and launched itself into the early 1980s (or the '70s, or the '60s -- pick any era you want), is it likely we would get that lucky break? That someone would discover us and raise us up to John Mellencamp's level of fame? No. What the Internet and cheaper recording technology and social media and all that offer people like us is a middle way. A path for people who are willing to roll up their sleeves and find their own audience. Yeah, it's annoying and it's hard and we'd rather just concentrate on making music, but guess what? The world doesn't owe us a living.

On a highly tangential note, Mellencamp's article left me feeling nostalgic for my college days. I went to Indiana University. During my four years there, I don't think a week went by that I didn't hear "I Need a Lover Who Won't Drive Me Crazy" at least once or twice. Sing it, John.