the art of selling out

Pete writes, over on his Powerful Pierre Goes Forth blog, about an interview with KT Tunstall in the Independent the other day, where she explains that "To be frank, the overall sound of the album isn't what I would have delivered had I been left to my own devices," , and he notes that "I personally think this is a shame, as it seems she hasn't really made the sort of album she would like to".

I appreciate that on one level there's nothing as romantic as the album which is free of industry influences, but part of me, faced with this, just thinks, well, that's the way it goes. The writer, by way of comparison, depends upon his or her editor in the early (and sometimes late) stages of his or her career as a moderating influence, as a sounding board, and as a critic. A great many novels are substantially edited and re-worked on the advice (and insistence) of the editor or publisher. Later on, when they are established, perhaps they dispense with this advice (and not always for the best). But we don't tend to see the music company in the same benevolent terms as we do the publisher; they 'get in the way'.

Equally, until comparatively recently, no-one really gave much thought to the notion of a 'director's cut' of a movie. It was understood that certain pressures were brought to bear upon a film and these had to be overcome by the director. These days a film can be sold to us twice, and arguably both formats are devalued. In the first instance the standard version is exposed as lacking some 'artistic vision' and compromised because of it, and in the latter, where the director can display that vision, we feel a significant disappointment that such a version tells us a story that we didn't want to know: that the first time round he couldn't negotiate with external influences: they defeated him.

Lastly, there's the question of why people make art or music, of course. It's easy to invest in an artist like KT Tunstall (who I've not heard, incidentally, so I apologise if I get her wrong in any way) this idea of creative freedom; we can well imagine her writing an album which is unarguably 'hers', and done to her own design. And doubtless that's how plenty of the greatest records do get made. But there's another side of art which is projected outwards, the part which is collaborative and social, which seeks to tick as many boxes as it can; which is interested in the dynamics of fashion, and its following. We often instinctively regard this kind of music as somehow 'meaning less', because we value the internal dialogue over the external. Yet often I find music speaks to me because it is trying to do just that - speak to me, not ramble incoherently at itself. (Here I am, your target demographic). And y'know, sometimes an artist gets to do what they like and they make something that's just unspeakably awful, and you want to know why no-one said 'hang on a minute'.

Perhaps Tunstall's album would sound better if it were more the record which she wanted to make. But I'm reminded of Andy Partridge's experiences in XTC, where he allowed his determination to retain complete creative control at every stage of the recording process to - frankly - damage every record he made for the first ten years of his career. Only when he was persuaded to let Todd Rundgren take the reins on 'Skylarking' did he create his true masterpiece. And for years afterwards he detested it, although now he repents (though maintains his control freak-streak).

A couple of years ago I submitted a poem to an online magazine which got back to me saying that they liked it and would like to include it in their next issue - provided I agree to remove one line (which I considered key) from the poem. At first I felt quite affronted, feeling that the poem was mine and shouldn't be changed. But I quickly got over that vanity and let them alter it, and I'm glad that I did, although I still dunno if their change improved it. Probably it did. So anyway - maybe I'm just cynical. I compromised my art, so I'm damn sure everyone else should have to.

I remember a band a few years ago called Sammy - who actually made a really good debut album - who were much criticised for being a fairly shameless Pavement rip-off. Pavement had just released their magnificent 'Watery, Domestic' EP and Sammy's shtick was that they were the Pavement who were happy to sign to a major label (Pavement were very much indie darlings at this stage) and 'sell out'. Then Pavement signed to a major themselves and Sammy had to resign themselves to being the Pavement who would stay indie.

Pavement knew it was much better to sell out.