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If you don’t know of Liz Pelly, I predict you soon will. I’ve been a fan for years but I really think that her latest work, Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist, coming in January by One Signal Publishers, an imprint of Atria Books at Simon & Schuster, will be one of those before and after books. Meaning the world you knew before reading the book was radically different than the world you know afterward. It is that insightful. And incriminating.
We are fortunate that Ms. Pelly has allowed Harper’s to excerpt Mood Machine in the current issue. I want to suggest that if you are a musician or care about musicians, or if you are at a record label or music publisher, or even if you are in the business of investing in music, you likely have nothing more important to do today than read this taste of the future.
The essence of what Ms. Pelly has identified is the intentional and abiding manipulation of Spotify’s corporate playlists. She explains what called her to write Mood Machine:
Spotify, the rumor had it, was filling its most popular playlists with stock music attributed to pseudonymous musicians—variously called ghost or fake artists—presumably in an effort to reduce its royalty payouts. Some even speculated that Spotify might be making the tracks itself. At a time when playlists created by the company were becoming crucial sources of revenue for independent artists and labels, this was a troubling allegation.
What you will marvel at is the elaborate means Ms. Pelly has discovered–through dogged reporting worthy of the great deadline artists–that Spotify undertook to deceive users into believing that playlists were organic. And, it must be said, to deceive investors, too. As she tells us:
For years, I referred to the names that would pop up on these playlists simply as “mystery viral artists.” Such artists often had millions of streams on Spotify and pride of place on the company’s own mood-themed playlists, which were compiled by a team of in-house curators. And they often had Spotify’s verified-artist badge. But they were clearly fake. Their “labels” were frequently listed as stock-music companies like Epidemic, and their profiles included generic, possibly AI-generated imagery, often with no artist biographies or links to websites. Google searches came up empty.
All this background manipulation–undisclosed and furtive manipulation by a global network of confederates–was happening while Spotify devoted substantial resources worthy of a state security operation into programming music in its own proprietary playlists. That programmed music not only was trivial and, to be kind, low brow, but also essentially at no cost to Spotify. It’s not just that it was free, it was free in a particular way. In Silicon Valley-speak, Ms. Pelly has discovered how Spotify disaggregated the musician from the value chain.
What she has uncovered has breathtaking implications, particularly with the concomitant rise of artificial intelligence and that assault on creators. The UK Parliament’s House of Commons Digital, Culture, Media & Sport Committee’s Inquiry into the Economics of Music Streaming quoted me as saying “If a highly trained soloist views getting included on a Spotify “Sleep” playlist as a career booster, something is really wrong.” That sentiment clearly resonated with the Committee, but was my feeble attempt at calling government’s attention to then-only-suspected playlist grift that was going on at Spotify. Ms. Pelly’s book is a solid indictment–there’s that word again–of Spotify’s wild-eyed, drooling greed and public deception.
Ms. Pelly’s work raises serious questions about streaming payola and its fellow-travelers in the annals of crime. The last time this happened in the music business was with Fred Dannen’s 1991 book called Hit Men that blew the lid off of radio payola. That book also sent record executives running to unfamiliar places called “book stores” but for a particular reason. They weren’t running to read the book. They already knew the story, sometimes all too well. They were running to see if their name was in the index.
Like the misguided iHeart and Pandora “steering agreements” that nobody ever investigated which preceded mainstream streaming manipulation, it’s worth investigating whether Spotify’s fakery actually rises to the level of a kind of payola or other prosecutable offense. As the noted broadcasting lawyer David Oxenford observed before the rise of Spotify:
The payola statute, 47 USC Section 508, applies to radio stations and their employees, so by its terms it does not apply to Internet radio (at least to the extent that Internet Radio is not transmitted by radio waves – we’ll ignore questions of whether Internet radio transmitted by wi-fi, WiMax or cellular technology might be considered a “radio” service for purposes of this statute). But that does not end the inquiry.Note that neither the prosecutions brought by Eliot Spitzer in New York state a few years ago nor the prosecution of legendary disc jockey Alan Fried in the 1950s were brought under the payola statute. Instead, both were based on state law commercial bribery statutes on the theory that improper payments were being received for a commercial advantage. Such statutes are in no way limited to radio, but can apply to any business. Thus, Internet radio stations would need to be concerned.
Ms. Pelly’s investigative work raises serious questions of its own about the corrosive effects of fake playlists on the music community including musicians and songwriters. She also raises equally serious questions about Spotify’s financial reporting obligations as a public company.
For example, I suspect that if Spotify were found to be using deception to boost certain recordings on its proprietary playlists without disclosing this to the public, it could potentially raise issues under securities laws, including the Sarbanes-Oxley Act (SOX). SOX requires companies to maintain accurate financial records and disclose material information that could affect investors’ decisions.
Deceptive practices that mislead investors about the company’s performance or business practices could be considered a violation of SOX. Additionally, such actions could lead to investigations by regulatory bodies like the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) and potential legal consequences.
Publicly traded companies like Spotify are required to disclose “risk factors” in their public filings which are potential events that could significantly impact Spotify’s business, financial condition, or operations. Ms. Pelly’s reporting raises issues that likely should be addressed in a risk factor. Imagine that risk factor in Spotify’s next SEC filing? It might read something like this:
Risk Factor: Potential Legal and Regulatory Actions
Spotify is currently under investigation for alleged deceptive practices related to the manipulation of Spotify’s proprietary playlists. If these allegations are substantiated, Spotify could face significant legal and regulatory actions, including fines, penalties, and enforcement actions by regulatory bodies such as the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). Such actions could result in substantial financial liabilities, damage to our reputation, and a loss of user trust, which could adversely affect our business operations and financial performance.
[A version of this post first appeared in MusicTech.Solutions]
The Copyright Office solicited public comments about how things are going with the MLC to help the Office decide whether to permit The MLC, Inc. to continue to operate the Collective (see this post for more details on the “redesignation” requirement). We are impressed with the quality of many of the comments filed at the Copyright Office. While comments are now closed, you can read all the comments at this link.
For context, the “redesignation” is a process of review by the Copyright Office required every five years under the Music Modernization Act. Remember, the “mechanical licensing collective” is a statutory entity that requires someone to operate it. The MLC, Inc. is the current operator (which makes it confusing but there it is). If the Copyright Office finds the MLC, Inc. is not sufficiently fulfilling its role or is not up to the job of running the MLC, the head of the Copyright Office can “fire” the MLC, Inc. and find someone else to hopefully do a better job running the MLC. Given the millions upon millions that the music users have invested in the MLC, and the hundreds of millions of songwriter money held by the MLC in the black box, firing the MLC, Inc. will be a big deal. Given how many problems there are with the MLC, firing the MLC, Inc. that runs the collective
The next step in this important “redesignation” process is that The MLC, Inc. and the Digital Licensee Coordinator called “the DLC” (the MLC’s counterpart that represents the blanket license music users) will be making “reply comments” due on July 29. The Copyright Office will post these comments for the public shortly after the 29th. These reply comments will likely rebut previously filed public comments on the shortcomings of the MLC, Inc. or DLC (which were mostly directed at the MLC, Inc.) and expand upon comments each of the two orgs made in previous filings. If you’re interested in this drama, stay tuned, the Copyright Office will be posting them next week.
If you have been reading the comments we’ve posted on Trichordist (or if you have gone to the filings themselves which we recommend), you will see that there is a recurring theme with the comments. Many commenters say that they wish for The MLC, Inc. to be redesignated BUT…. They then list a number of items that they object to about the way the Collective has been managed by The MLC, Inc. usually accompanied by a request that the The MLC, Inc. change the way it operates.
That structure seems to be inconsistent with a blanket ask for redesignation. Rather, the commenters seem to be making an “if/then” proposal that if The MLC, Inc. improves its operations, including in some cases operating in an opposite manner to its current policies and practices, then The MLC, Inc. should be redesignated. Not wishing to speak for any commenter, let it just be said that this appears to be a conditional proposal for redesignation. Maybe that is not what the commenters were thinking, but it does appear to be what many of them are saying.
Today’s comment is jointly filed by the Songwriters Guild of America (SGA), the Society of Composers & Lyricists (SCL), and Music Creators North America (MCNA), who advocate for independent songwriters in contrast to the powers that be. (For clarity, the three groups in their comment refer to themselves together as the “Independent Music Creators”.)
For purposes of these posts, we may quote sections of comments out of sequence but in context. We recommend that you read their thoughtful and detailed joint comments in their entirety. You can read the joint comment at this link.
[The Current Crisis with Spotify]
Prior to proceeding to the presentation of our Comments, we are compelled by recent events and circumstances to issue the following, important caveat. Just days ago, the National Music Publishers Association (“NMPA”) announced its apparent intention to seek fundamental legislative changes to the US Copyright Act in regard to the statutory mechanical licensing system established under the Music Modernization Act (“MMA”) (the legislation that resulted in the creation of the MLC and the DLC). This complete reversal in NMPA policy is the result of repugnant actions on the part of the digital music distributor “Spotify” to minimize its royalty payment obligations by identifying and exploiting alleged loopholes in what many view as the unevenly negotiated and drafted Phonorecords IV settlement. The Independent Music Creators previously voiced formal opposition to the details of that settlement prior to its ratification and adoption by the US Copyright Royalty Board at NMPA’s urging in December, 2022.
This morass, which threatens to deprive music creators of hundreds of millions of dollars in royalties over the next five years, is made even more complex by the fact that both NMPA and the MLC are served by the same team of legal advisors. Those same legal advisors also counseled NMPA on the negotiation of the Phonorecords IV settlement, which the MLC (albeit through another set of litigators) is now seeking to enforce against Spotify in federal court (an action we support), and which NMPA is now essentially seeking to vacate through Congressional action to eliminate statutory mechanical licensing via an opt-out system (which predictably favors the major music publishing conglomerates over creators and small music publishers).
The general idea of eliminating statutory mechanical licensing, the revival of which movement may now unfortunately be viewed as a fig leaf to camouflage poor NMPA decision-making and execution regarding the Phonorecords IV settlement, is one that the Independent Music Creators and many members of the music publishing sector have long believed should receive serious consideration. We will support such legislative reforms if fairly framed and developed with meaningful independent music creator input, along with pursuing our own legislative proposals expressed below. For now, however, this entire situation could hardly be less transparent or conducive to quick resolution than it currently remains.
In short, neither the Independent Music Creators nor any other groups of interested parties can possibly develop complete and cogent opinions on the issue of re-designation of the MLC and DLC without having greater access to the full body of facts surrounding this crucial new development regarding Spotify. These Comments, therefore, must be viewed against the backdrop of an unresolved and economically crucial dispute, the fallout from and resolution of which may completely alter the views expressed herein in the immediate future. As such, we look forward to making further comments on this issue as additional facts are disclosed concerning the Spotify/MLC/NMPA relationships and conflicts (past and present).
MLC Board Composition: It bears further re-emphasis that most if not all of these suggested changes have been necessitated by the actions of the corporate-dominated MLC board, including the structure established by the MMA that allocates ten board seats to corporate music publishing entities (which in practice automatically grants control of the MLC board and of the entire organization to the three “major” publishers that together administer more than two-thirds of the world’s musical composition copyrights) compared with just four music creator board member seats. Under such circumstances, music creator board members are virtually powerless to effect influence over the board’s actions and MLC policy, and are relegated to serving merely as an amen chorus in support of every MLC-related music publisher action and demand. This system of publisher majority rule is contrary to the structures and rules of government-sanctioned royalty collectives everywhere else in the world. To our knowledge, no similar royalty and licensing collective in the world is controlled by a board with less than fifty percent music creator representation.
The sound of this figurative rubber stamp within the MLC boardroom is further amplified by the fact that since inception, the non-voting seat set aside for music creator organizational input has been occupied by a non-creator whose organization’s allegiance to following in lock step with the music publishing industry is so obvious as to be beyond rational dispute. Thus, the current reality is total, corporate music publisher influence and domination of MLC’s rules and policies. This, despite the fact that the MMA as codified in section 115 of the US Copyright Act specifically mandates that the music creator organizational seat be occupied by the representative of “a nationally recognized nonprofit trade association whose primary mission is advocacy on behalf of songwriters in the United States.” This situation must change.
One of the hallmarks of mania is the rapid rise and complexity of the rates of fraud. And did you know they’re going up?
The Big Short, screenplay by Charles Randolph and Adam McKay, based on the book by Michael Lewis
We have often said that if screwups were Easter eggs, Spotify CEO Daniel Ek would be the Easter bunny, hop hop hopping from one to the next. That’s is not consistent with his press agent’s pagan iconography, but it sure seems true to many people.
This week was no different. Mr. Ek cashed out hundreds of millions in Spotify stock while screwing songwriters hard with a lawless interpretation of the songwriter compulsory license. That interpretation is so far off the mark that he surely must know exactly what he is doing. It’s yet another manifestation of Spotify’s sudden obsession with finding profits after a decade of “get big fast.”
The Bunny’s Bundle
Let’s look under the hood at the part they don’t tell you much about. Mr. Ek evidently has what’s called a “10b5-1 agreement” in place with Spotify allowing staggered sales of incremental tranches of the common stock. Those sales have to be announced publicly which Spotify complied with (we think). And we’ll say it again for the hundredth time, stock is where the real money is at this stage of Spotify’s evolution, not revenue.
As a founder of Spotify, Mr. Ek holds founders shares plus whatever stock awards he has been granted by the board he controls through his supervoting stock that we’ve discussed with you many times. These 10b5-1 agreements are a common technique for insiders, especially founders, who hold at least 10% of the company’s shares, to cash out and get the real money through selling their stock.
A 10b5-1 agreement establishes predetermined trading instructions for company stock (usually a sale so not trading the shares) consistent with SEC rules under Section 10b5 of the Securities and Exchange Act of 1934 covering when the insider can sell. Why does this exist? The rule was established in 2000 to protect Silicon Valley insiders from insider trading lawsuits. Yep, you caught it–it’s yet another safe harbor for the special people. Presumably Mr. Ek’s personal agreement is similar if not identical to the safe harbor terms because that’s why the terms are there.
As MusicBusinessWorldWide reported, Mr. Ek recently sold $118.8 million in shares of Spotify at roughly the same time that he likely knew Spotify was planning to change the way his company paid songwriters on streaming mechanicals, or as it’s also known “material nonpublic information”.
As Tim Ingham notes in MusicBusinessWorldwide, Mr. Ek has had a few recent sales under his 10b5-1 agreement: “Across these four transactions (today’s included), Ek has cashed out approximately $340.5 million in Spotify shares since last summer.” Rough justice, but I would place a small wager that Ek has cashed out in personal wealth all or close to all of the money that Spotify has paid to songwriters (through their publishers) for the same period. In this sense, he is no different than the usual disproportionately compensated CEOs at say Google or Raytheon.
Stock buybacks artificially increase share price. Now why might Spotify want to juice its own stock price?
Spotify Shoves a “Bundled” Rate on Songwriters
Spotify’s argument (that may have caused a jump in share price) claims that its recent audiobook offering made Spotify subscriptions into a “bundle” for purposes of the statutory mechanical rate. (While likely paying an undiscounted royalty to the books.)
That would be the same bundled rate that was heavily negotiated in the 2021-22 “Phonorecords IV” proceeding at the Copyright Royalty Board at great expense to all concerned, not to mention torturing the Copyright Royalty Judges. These Phonorecords IV rates are in effect for five years, but the next negotiation for new rates is coming soon (called Phonorecords V or PR V for short). We’ll get to the royalty bundle but let’s talk about the cash bundle first.
You Didn’t Build That
Don’t get it wrong, we don’t begrudge Mr. Ek the opportunity to be a billionaire. We don’t at all. But we do begrudge him the opportunity to do it when the government is his “partner” so they can together put a boot on the necks of songwriters. This is how it is with statutory mechanical royalties; he benefits from various other safe harbors, has had his lobbyists rewrite Section 115 to avoid litigation in a potentially unconstitutional reach back safe harbor, and he hired the lawyer at the Copyright Office who largely wrote the rules that he’s currently bending. Yes, we do begrudge him that stuff.
And here’s the other effrontery. When Daniel Ek pulls down $340.5 million as a routine matter, we really don’t want to hear any poor mouthing about how Spotify cannot make a profit because of the royalty payments it makes to artists and songwriters. (Or these days, doesn’t make to some artists.) This is, again, why revenue share calculations are just the wrong way to look at the value conferred by featured and nonfeatured artists and songwriters on the Spotify juggernaut. That’s also the point Chris made in some detail in the paper he co-wrote with Professor Claudio Feijoo for WIPO that came up in Spain, Hungary, France, Uruguay and other countries.
Spotify pays a percentage of revenue on what is essentially a market share basis. Market share royalties allows the population of recordings to increase faster than the artificially suppressed revenue, while excluding songwriters from participating in the increases in market value reflected in the share price. That guarantees royalties will decline over time. Nothing new here, see the economist Thomas Malthus, workhouses and Charles Dickens‘ Oliver Twist.
The market share method forces songwriters to take a share of revenue from someone who purposely suppressed (and effectively subsidized) their subscription pricing for years and years and years. (See Robert Spencer’s Get Big Fast.). It would be a safe bet that the reason they subsidized the subscription price was to boost the share price by telling a growth story to Wall Street bankers (looking at you, Goldman Sachs) and retail traders because the subsidized subscription price increased subscribers.
Just a guess.
The Royalty Bundle
Now about this bundled subscription issue. One of the fundamental points that gets missed in the statutory mechanical licensing scheme is the compulsory license itself. The fact that songwriters have a compulsory license forced on them for one of their primary sources of income is a HUGE concession. We think the music services like Spotify have lost perspective on just how good they’ve got it and how big a concession it is.
The government has forced songwriters to make this concession since 1909. That’s right–for over 100 years. A century.
A decision that seemed reasonable 100 years ago really doesn’t seem reasonable at all today in a networked world. So start there as opposed to the trope that streaming platforms are doing us a favor by paying us at all, Daniel Ek saved the music business, and all the other iconographic claptrap.
Has anyone seen them in the same room at the same time?
The problem with the Spotify move to bundled subscriptions is that it can happen in the middle of a rate period and at least on the surface has the look of a colorable argument to reduce royalty payments. If you asked songwriters what they thought the rule was, to the extent they had focused on it at all after being bombarded with self-congratulatory hoorah, they probably thought that the deal wasn’t “change rates without renegotiating or at least coming back and asking.”
And they wouldn’t be wrong about that, because it is reasonable to ask that any changes get run by your, you know, “partner.” Maybe that’s where it all goes wrong. Because it is probably a big mistake to think of these people as your “partner” if by “partner” you mean someone who treats you ethically and politely, reasonably and in good faith like a true fiduciary.
They are not your partner. Don’t normalize that word.
A Compulsory License is a Rent Seeker’s Presidential Suite
But let’s also point out that what is happening with the bundle pricing is a prime example of the brittleness of the compulsory licensing system which is itself like a motel in the desolate and frozen Cyber Pass with a light blinking “Vacancy: Rent Seekers Wanted” surrounded by the bones of empires lost. Unlike the physical mechanical rate which is a fixed penny rate per transaction, the streaming mechanical is a cross between a Rube Goldberg machine and a self-licking ice cream cone.
The Spotify debacle is just the kind of IED that was bound to explode eventually when you have this level of complexity camouflaging traps for the unwary written into law. And the “written into law” part is what makes the compulsory license process so insidious. When the roadside bomb goes off, it doesn’t just hit the uparmored people before the Copyright Royalty Board–it creams everyone.
David and friends tried to make this point to the Copyright Royalty Judges in Phonorecords IV. They were not confused by the royalty calculations–they understood them all too well. They were worried about fraud hiding in the calculations the same way Michael Burry was worried about fraud in The Big Short. Except there’s no default swaps for songwriters like Burry used to deal with fraud in subprime mortgage bonds.
Here’s how the Judges responded to David, you decide if they are condescending or if the songwriters were prescient knowing what we know now:
While some songwriters or copyright owners may be confused by the royalties or statements of account, the price discriminatory structure and the associated levels of rates in settlement do not appear gratuitous, but rather designed, after negotiations, to establish a structure that may expand the revenues and royalties to the benefit of copyright owners and music services alike, while also protecting copyright owners from potential revenue diminution. This approach and the resulting rate setting formula is not unreasonable. Indeed, when the market itself is complex, it is unsurprising that the regulatory provisions would resemble the complex terms in a commercial agreement negotiated in such a setting.
It must be said that there never has been a “commercial agreement negotiated in such a setting” that wasn’t constrained by the compulsory license. It’s unclear what the Judges even mean. But if what the Judges mean is that the compulsory license approximates what would happen in a free market where the songwriters ran free and good men didn’t die like dogs, the compulsory license is nothing like a free market deal.
If the Judges are going to allow services to change their business model in midstream but essentially keep their music offering the same while offloading the cost of their audiobook royalties onto songwriters through a discount in the statutory rate, then there should be some downside protection. Better yet, they should have to come back and renegotiate or songwriters should get another bite at the apple.
Unfortunately, there are neither, which almost guarantees another acrimonious, scorched earth lawyer fest in PR V coming soon to a charnel house near you.
Eject, Eject!
This is really disappointing because it was so avoidable if for no other reason. It’s a great time for someone…ahem…to step forward and head off the foreseeable collision on the billable time highway. The Judges surely know that the rate calculation is a farce
But the Judges are dealing with people negotiating the statutory license who have made too much money negotiating it to ever give it up willingly although a donnybrook is brewing. This inevitable dust up means other work will suffer at the CRB. It must be said in fairness that the Judges seem to find it hard enough to get to the work they’ve committed to according to a recent SoundExchange filing in a different case (SDARS III remand from 2020).
That’s not uncharitable–I’m merely noting that when dozens of lawyers in the mechanical royalty proceedings engage in what many of us feel are absurd discovery excesses. When there are stupid lawyer tricks at the CRB, they are–frankly–distracting the Judges from doing their job by making them focus on, well, bollocks. We’ll come back to this issue in future. The dozens and hundreds of lawyers putting children through college at the CRB–need to take a breath and realize that judicial resources at the CRB are a zero sum game. This behavior isn’t fair to the Judges and it’s definitely not fair to the real parties in interest–the songwriters.
Tell the Horse to Open Wider
A compulsory license in stagflationary times is an incredibly valuable gift, and when you not only look the gift horse in the mouth but ask that it open wide so you can check the molars, don’t be surprised if one day it kicks you.
Pathetic and gutless Daniel Ek kowtows for the money: Spotify Says Distributor Removed ‘Glory to Hong Kong’ Amidst Chinese Government Crackdown https://t.co/fFen3lG3ff
"Sold"? Or set $30 million on fire and flushed it down the toilet? You know that Spotify just can't make a profit. But Daniel Ek is as smart as Steve Jobs, just ask @Netflix. Spotify has sold music creation app Soundtrap back to its founders https://t.co/VvFaXWOdvU
Snoop Dogg had strong words for Spotify, Apple Music, and other music streaming services during an interview with former Apple Music Creative Director Larry Jackson at the Milken Institute Global Conference.
“I know I’m going off-script right now, but fuck it. This is business,” said Snoop “In a room full of business people and somebody may hear this so the next artist don’t have to struggle and cry for his money because some of these artists are streaming millions and millions and millions and millions of fucking streams and they don’t got no millions of dollars in the pot.”
The Trichordist 
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