Rule# 4,080: Record Company People Are Shady
“Tommy ain’t my motherf*ckin’ boy…”
On a recent episode of “Teen Titans GO!” (yes, you read that correctly), the adolescent superheroes journey to Mars to reclaim De La Soul’s music catalog from a money-hungry monster. The tentacled terror has swiped the legendary emcee’s discography. Royalties are what it seeks.
It’s a fun episode with enough De La references to make former b-boys and girls beam nostalgically.
The “Don’t Press Play” episode may seem a bit random if you don’t know about De La’s legal battle to recoup their classics. In real life, the monster is Tommy Boy Records.
De La Soul’s early works have spent nearly a decade in limbo. Songs like “Breakadawn” (a personal favorite) cannot be played on the radio, used in commercials, or streamed at your ‘90s themed birthday party. Negligence, greed, naivete, or all of the above are to be blamed. Tommy Boy never paid for the samples. More than 60 on hip hop masterpiece “3 Feet High and Rising,” according to the NY Times.
The litigious arm-wrestling between De La Soul and Tommy Boy involves not only sample clearance, but also the revenue split if/when De La’s catalog becomes available to streaming services.
The rift recalls Q-Tip’s verse on “Check the Rhime.”
“Industry rule number four-thousand-and-eighty;
Record company people are shady
So kids, watch your back ‘cause I think they smoke crack
I don’t doubt it, look at how they act”
De La Soul’s troubles stem from a problem that dates back to the phonograph. Lack of control. Artists with visions of becoming the next Rihanna lose sight of the fine print. They often sign away rights to their intellectual property and significant portions of future earnings.
The “360 deal,” also known as the multi-rights deal, is becoming increasingly common. This contract entitles labels to percentages of revenue that extend beyond music. The everything and the kitchen sink deal can include merchandising, live performances, sponsorships, commercials, movie appearances, and more.
Fortunately, for De La, they weren’t in a 360. They have been able to earn a living from merchandising and touring. Unfortunately, that has been the only way for them to pay their mortgages through their music.
The 360 deal is the record businesses’ response to the streaming era and diminishing sales. It doesn’t necessarily mean record labels aim to fleece their artists, but let us not forget rule number 4,080.
The use of 360 deals for the winners of reality-TV talent shows like “The X Factor,” “American Idol,” and “The Voice,” has raised eyebrows. “...In order to participate, the artist is provided a standard form contract that is offered on a take-it or leave-it basis,” according to an Indiana University South Bend paper. “Take-it or leave-it” doesn’t exactly scream equitable.
The potential to continue the longstanding tradition of preying on eager, young artists is hard to ignore. So beware if you’re a musician looking to pen your first record deal. It’ll take more than superpowers to save you from a contract once the ink is dry.
Speaking of which, the pint-sized superheroes were able to retrieve De La Soul’s music from the clutches of the record label monster. In the real world, we still have to wait for lawyers to work their sorcery to hear “3 Feet High and Rising,” “Stakes is High,” “De La Soul is Dead,” and “Buhloone Mindstate” on streaming services.