StreetcredMusic...This blog has followed a quote I heard many years ago..."Sometimes you must leap first, and build your wings on the way down". From nothing it has become a blog containing dozens of Indie artists. Follow me as I introduce you to them, from the place where they breed, New York City! ....and come with us as we document it on film!!

COVER: Supporting Women and their Art.



Visit the Movie Page::
https://www.facebook.com/pages/StreetcredMusic-the-Documentary-Film/236369733150822










Tuesday

StreetcredMusic: Why I Left New York City, Pt 4. Kayce Laine

 A long time friend, and someone who I will really miss on my trips to NYC, Kayce Laine tells why she left. Unfortunately this list is growing fast. Unfortunately for me, I miss them all, but for them, I think they all have made a good move getting away from the non paying venues and the annul raises on the housing and living costs.
 
Kayce Laine: FB
  Kayce::It was really hard to summarize such a chaotic and intense time in my life.
 
I left for love: love lost and love gained. The decision to leave was easy: 
I spent four magical weeks in Nashville working on a record with a new producer and consequently fell in love with him and the city. 
 
A few weeks prior to that, my best friend kicked me out of my apartment so she could live there with her new husband and I found myself in a city I could no longer afford: After hearing the news that I had to suddenly leave my (relatively) cheap room in Williamsburg, it didn't take me long to realize that everything was completely out of my range. 
 
Playing in multiple bands, teaching private music lessons, and doing random jobs on the side would no longer be able to support me.
Like I said, the decision to leave was easy and I spent the last few months crashing in a friend's spare room (aka the hallway of her railroad apartment) soaking in every minute of the city that I could. It was funny though, I started seeing the city with disillusioned eyes once I knew I was leaving. 
 
Don't get me wrong, the city is beautiful and full of amazing people and magic. But once I knew I was leaving, I started to fully recognize and acknowledge all the things I wouldn't miss. 
 
Not to mention, my beloved neighborhood was changing, and not for the better. My favorite bars, restaurants and shops were closing down one by one because of rent increases. Cameo Gallery, a hip bar/restaurant/venue at which I played shows frequently, closed exactly one month before I left town. I took that as a big sign that my time was closing too. It gave me peace. 
 

Creatively, I was thriving though and I was playing fun shows with my band fairly regularly. I was sad to be leaving them but knew that Nashville held new creative opportunities for me and I was ready to see what waited for me there. On January 1, 2016, I packed up my things, put them in a minivan, drove from Brooklyn to Nashville, and never looked back. 

I was done with NYC before it was done with me. 
                                
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Here is some of the work we did together: Video>Kayce Laine "Echo"
 
My birthday, Kayce did a set.
 Thanks Kayce!!!!
 
 See Parts 1,2,3  HERE see all
  
Follow Kayce:: On Facebook HERE 
Follow me:: Pete Carma

Saturday

StreetcredMusic: Natalie Gelman, "Some People" are so poor, all they have is money.

This week the Sun and the Moon got together. A rare event.
Natalie Gelman and Me got together too, just as rare.
When I'm in NYC, she is in California, when she is in NYC, I'm in Vegas.
I finally got to see her live at The Hootenanny House, In Illinois
It was an acoustic house concert, part of her cross country tour.
It was a wonderful evening. Her music is from her heart and her experiences.
And it all comes through with love. 
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Her new album will be completed in a few weeks.
I put together some video from my phone at the show, please enjoy.
Natalie Gelman
  
  

Friday

StreetcredMusic: I Have A Great New Venue, If You Are Coming Through Chicago!

A new venue I discovered, thanks to Songstress, Natalie Gelman
     ...In Geneva, Illinois. Just west of Chicago, north of Elgin.
       ...It's called Hootenanny House

The reason I'm so interested in getting artists in here is two fold.
1. They are nonprofit, and very nice people, and just getting started on a mission generated by music and love.
2. They do amazing work with kids!! (need I say more?)

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They have four rooms if you will, available. A large 'living room' like BIG for a house concert.
...that's Natalie getting set up, that's about 1/3 of the house concert area.

They also have a beautiful outdoor spot.

...and an area that holds MANY, with a stage.

...and also a very intimate setting for many of you songstresses, I know you will love.

So please if you are coming west, contact me if you need any questions answered..
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The Director is, John Connolly email: info@hootenannyhouse.org
The area of Geneva is awesome, shops, restaurants, some other music venues too. A great town to just stroll around in.

I will be contacting some of you, to help put them on our music map!!
Thanks:: Pete Carma

Sunday

StreetcredMusic; Artists, if you don't speak out, what is your art form?

Now more than ever, we need good passion and energy in the arts, with something to say, and with a little volatility.

You take the stage, not being paid for your work. With the opportunity to raise the consciousness of people, how can you give up that privilege, by saying nothing.

Indie Artist have power.

Friday

StreetcredMusic: From The New York Times: Touring Can't Save Musicians In The Age Of Spotify


Every couple of months, I see another post in my Facebook feed about a band that was cut off by an 18-wheeler or skidded on a patch of black ice and rolled their van into a ditch. Some members are injured, and they’re launching a Kickstarter campaign to pay for medical bills and to get back on their feet.


My heart (and often, money) goes out to them. But if you need to crowdfund your hospital costs, you were never on your feet to begin with. After many years as a touring artist myself, I’m honestly surprised that the person in that ditch has never been me.
Touring is, of course, the most ancient business model available to artists — and in many ways, it remains a vital part of their livelihood, even while the surrounding industry undergoes major upheaval to accommodate the new paradigm of streaming music. In response to the shift in revenue sources, standard recording contracts now intrude into the numerous nonrecording aspects of an artist’s career. But the advice given to the creative generators of this multibillion dollar industry is still one that would be recognizable to a medieval troubadour: Go on tour.

 And yet from a business standpoint, it’s hard to find a model more unsustainable than one that relies on a single human body. This is why we have vice presidents, relief pitchers and sixth men. When applied to music’s seemingly limitless streaming future, the only scarce resource left is the artists themselves. You would think the industry would protect such an important piece of its business model, but in fact, the opposite is true.



 The contribution of live touring to the music industry’s bottom line is enormous, and the number is only growing. Consider Taylor Swift: According to Billboard, her live show grossed $30 million in 2013, with another $10 million in merchandise sold. And depending on whom you believe, she made anywhere from $500,000 to $6 million from her catalog on Spotify that year. While she is certainly making money in retail sales and digital downloads, both of those metrics are spiraling downward as people migrate away from the concept of owning music at all. Nielsen recently released numbers indicating substantial drops in both CD and digital-track sales, which are down almost $100 million year over year from 2014; streaming music continues to grow, but the revenue it generates isn’t close to making up the difference, yet.


 This means that the bulk of Swift’s income rides on her ability to get to venues safely and perform. It also makes her much-examined decision to pull her 2014 release “1989” from Spotify the financial equivalent of her taking a few months off. Regardless how you look at it, the health of her singing voice is far and away the single most important aspect of her business.

 Record labels have followed the money and addressed these changes in the contracts they offer to recording artists. In the predigital era, labels profited only from the physical recordings they funded, but as that income began dwindling, a new logic was applied to the artist-label relationship. Labels argued that by promoting the recordings they owned, they were also promoting the artist’s career as a whole, and were entitled to profit from the full spectrum of artist’s revenue streams — the “360 deal,” named for the totality of its coverage.

 But labels do not take on the additional risks associated with their additional profits. Instead of protecting the health of their revenue-generating engine, they simply point to an artist’s independent-contractor status, which releases them from any liability they would be on the hook for if artists were labeled employees.

  
Rather than sparking a labor dispute, these 360 deals quickly became the new normal. As a result, administrators, support staff and office spaces are insured against the risks of doing business, while the company’s income generators — the creators of their master recordings — are on their own.

 Artists today are not only touring more to make up for their own lost recording-sales revenue; they’re also being compelled to by the labels that also stand to profit. This makes it a great time to be a fan of live music: From the rise of electronic dance music to the regular resurrections of the Grateful Dead, a major musical event is never far away. But the physical price that artists pay for this easy access is steep. Last summer, Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl was forced to cancel shows when he fell from a stage in Sweden and broke his leg. Other artists with 2015 tour-date cancellations on account of injuries, surgeries and other health issues included Sam Smith, Miranda Lambert, Steve Aoki, Little Big Town, Meghan Trainor, Nickelback, the Black Keys and Kelly Clarkson.

 That’s a lot of injuries — and millions of dollars lost. The European shows canceled by Foo Fighters alone, including a headlining slot at the Glastonbury Music Festival, cost the band nearly $10 million in fees and travel expenses.) And of all the instruments on a given tour, the vocal cords are the most vulnerable to the harsh environment the road virtually guarantees; basically anything that inconveniences the ordinary traveler becomes a business risk for the singer. Regardless of the circumstances, the singer has to call on this small, unprotected instrument to deliver on a daily itinerary that can extend from a morning drive-time radio show to the meet-and-greet after the performance.


 From royalty rates to basic safeguards against the standard hazards of doing business, recording artists begin the negotiating process with a deck that is stacked against them. This lopsided balance of power allows labels to treat all artists as replaceable until proven otherwise, and both sides know that there is always a long line of hopefuls outside auditions for “The Voice” or “America’s Got Talent” to undercut a young artist’s bargaining power.

 The question of why recording artists have been unable to organize and collectively bargain the way other artists have — actors and screenwriters, for example — is one that has dogged them since the dawn of the record deal. Musicians do have a union, the American Federation of Musicians, but it’s not a particularly strong one; it primarily represents members of symphonies, and it hasn’t been on a national strike in 70 years. Recording artists are not really considered core members, because their tenures within the union tend to be shorter than those of lifelong pit musicians and orchestra members. Music is also a traditionally decentralized, live art form with an ingrained renegade spirit. Hollywood, by contrast, has a single dominant hub.

Perhaps musicians’ renegade spirit is what ultimately will save the next generation of recording artists, who are increasingly forgoing record deals altogether and going it alone. As true independents, they work the margin between the technology that makes recordings cheaper to create and a public that is steadily buying fewer of them. Without a label taking a bite out of multiple revenue sources, the numbers can actually work. Others are coming together in groups centered on advocacy and pressing for changes to the laws that dictate royalty payments in the new streaming economy — something that could mean all the difference when injury, accident or age brings a touring musician’s career to a halt. But in the meantime, the vans and buses roll on.



 Follow me::Pete Carma

Wednesday

StreetcredMusic: Songstresses, "Why I Left New York City" Pt 3

 So many of the creative and talented women friends I gained through this blog, doing shows, making videos and a film, are now gone. Like in, they left NYC. In most cases priced out, by the cost of housing.

I asked a few of them if they would like to write about it here.
Some do, and I will be posting their words. Some will post their name, others want to do it anonymously, here's the third in a series...
Morgan, is a woman I never had the pleasure of meeting in person. But I love her music. She's a vocalist in the Reggae genre.
I missed the boat Pete. Many ships come and go in NYC every day, I was never able to afford the fare. Since I arrived in 2012 I put all I had into, writing, creating, producing and of course recording all I could. I never went 'on the cheap'. I put in my money and just as important my TIME, because after all this was my shot.  


I was never going to be the woman who works 3 jobs and squeezes her music in. I worked one job 25 hrs a week, Monday through Thursday, days. I lived with my sister. I was never going to be a wedding singer, or a writer of songs and split a couple of thousand dollars with 5 or 6 others, on an occasional hit.

So I left in 2016. My half of the rent in LIC, went up to 1k from $650, in eighteen months. My day job was fine, but as a business, and music is a business, a big business, it was not working.
So many other girls I knew were making money but most not in NYC. They were going everywhere, in some cases the best money they made was abroad. And of course they were paying a COMPETENT agent.


I am in Colorado now, and have been part of a band, and BTW not to many Reggae Bands here, Ha!
We play for the ski crowd in winter and vacationers in summer. All my bills are paid from our gigs.
Every once in a while we go to Cali for the ski season and we have made some good contacts to travel when we want. Not personal #It'sonlybusiness.

I don't miss the subway, the rats therein, Starbucks, free gigs, or garbage bags stacked up every night.
I'm 29 now, and I feel like I'm on that boat. The Love Boat, I love where I'm at. xo Morgan.

Read parts 1 & 2 HERE!

Follow me:: Pete Carma

StreetcredMusic: Songstresses, "Why I Left New York City" Pt 2.

 So many of the creative and talented women friends I gained through this blog, doing shows, making videos and a film, are now gone. Like in, they left NYC. In most cases priced out, by the cost of housing.

I asked a few of them if they would like to write about it here.
Some do, and I will be posting their words. Some will post their name, others want to do it anonymously, here's the second in a series...

Sarah, a songwriter, pianists and mom...
Pete, It’s been 19 months since I lived in New York City. I lived there for eight years. It would have been a decade this month, which means that if I’d never left I would be, officially, a real New Yorker soon. Instead, I became the person people roll their eyes at. I moved to Vancouver, Washington, with my baby and my boyfriend. Now Brooklyn becomes this weird blip, the place I spent my 20s. Leaving felt like getting out of a bad marriage, like I was “choosing happiness.” Like many New Yorker's, I spent years fantasizing about other lives, and months on different Zip Codes in real-estate apps. We had the Vermont phase, the upstate New York phase, the looking into visas in Berlin phase. What would it be like, to be an adult in not–New York? 


My music career? I was writing songs hoping they would be 'placed' and playing weddings and gigs for the corporations I disliked for making every business a cut throat campaign. I made my rent and then a bit more doing that. That's not a music life, it's a struggling existence. One of the last live gigs I had was packed, my tip jar paid me $83, a net loss of $200 for me, $200 was one ninth of my rent.

As it turns out, living elsewhere is exceedingly comfortable. Years spent in New York made it seem like a bad thing to choose ease. A weakness, a personality flaw. After all, if an easy life were something I was after, why had I spent so much goddamned time in a railroad apartment near the BQE? Had I internalized the values of the people around me, assimilated so much I’d forgotten what I actually cared about? 

  Living in New York was never a dream of mine like it is for some people. New York made realizing so many of my dreams possible: writing, love, and a child. Maybe once I got everything I wanted out of the city I was ready to leave. Maybe I made my contacts, got my contracts, memorized the subway lines, and then I was done. 


For more than a year I didn’t miss it at all. When images of the city flashed in my mind, it was like a montage of car exhaust, putrefying garbage, and hauling my ass up subway steps at the end of a long day. The word that came to mind was misery. And then it shifted. It was almost like my brain missed using all my particular to New York knowledge. I fantasized about walking certain pathways across town. I got butterflies thinking about that section of Rivington that doesn’t quite connect when you cross Bowery, or sliding into a table at a crowded coffee shop, right as it empties.
So I went to New York by myself, for four days.

I landed in JFK, giddy to be in an airport that felt like a spaceship, I ran off to find the subway, my subway.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I said to my friends at dinner that night — my old, dear friends who make me laugh like no other. What I mean to say is Why. But there was a bite to my comment, a bitterness. When I saw other women with babies strapped to their chest in carriers I got a flash of anger, like, No, I have a baby, or What are you trying to prove? It took me a few days to realize that my friends and these women were doing what I couldn’t, or wouldn’t — do. They were hacking it in New York. 

 I woke up the next morning at 6 a.m. — windows open, no air-conditioning, on an air mattress in the office of my dear friend’s Bushwick apartment — to the sounds of construction. It was that comically loud New York sound where someone is basically dropping a ton of cement onto something really clangy. The kind that makes you jump and laugh and scream.

 I can’t do it anymore. I’ve gone soft. What that means is that I’ll be forever living in not–New York, in a second-rate place with an in-unit washer and dryer. And that’s the cost — knowing that there will always be a city that has everything but that I can no longer take. There will always be a city to contend with, to compare to. It’s incredibly annoying, but hey, that’s New York....Sarah.

see part 1 HERE!   ... Follow me: Pete Carma