Culture Can’t Be Consolidated: Why the Music Industry Must Reconsider How It Does Business (Guest Column)

Since entering the music industry over three decades ago, my devotion has remained steadfast: my love for music, the excitement of finding remarkable talent, and the honor of helping to mold culture. Music is far more than the business built around it. It narrates our stories, mirrors our communities, safeguards our history, defines our identities, and unites generations. It grants a voice to individuals whose experiences might otherwise go unnoticed.

This is why I am growing increasingly apprehensive about the industry's trajectory. As consolidation occurs, divisions vanish, seasoned executives depart, and artist development takes a backseat, I keep circling back to one crucial question: When did we start viewing culture as an expense, rather than acknowledging it as the bedrock of our business?

I comprehend the economics of business. Profitability matters. Expansion matters. Financial prudence matters. Yet, fostering something substantial and enduring necessitates more than merely assessing its immediate monetary worth. Some of the most impactful artists in music history were not immediate successes. Their potential was not always evident in the figures.

Someone believed in them before the industry acknowledged their value. Someone invested time, provided guidance, championed their individuality, and granted them the liberty to err, grow, and uncover their authentic selves. When financial assessments overshadow the individuals who create the music, that is precisely what we risk losing.

Companies can be consolidated. Departments can be eliminated. Resources can be merged; however, culture cannot be consolidated. Culture does not arise in a corporate boardroom. It is conceived in our neighborhoods, places of worship, schools, homes, and communities. It materializes wherever young people are experimenting, envisioning, and crafting something the world has yet to witness.

The independence I witnessed in the Bay Area was not a marketing tactic or a corporate doctrine. It was a lifestyle. We did not wait for approval to cultivate our unique sound or establish our own movement. We worked with what we had, trusted in what we were constructing, and believed that the world would eventually recognize its importance.

This ethos is not exclusive to the Bay Area. It thrives in communities across the globe. And invariably, the individuals closest to those communities discern the next cultural shift long before the rest of the industry.