Many of my friends are songwriters: some have recorded their songs, and some have not; one is signed, and the others are not; several are very good, and the rest are not, especially.  But all the songwriters I have known share one characteristic: they want the rest of us to hear their songs so that we can know what they think and how they feel.  It is terribly important to them.  That’s why they spend big chunks of their lives alone, missing meals, losing sleep, walking the floor or pounding on a guitar or a piano until their neighbors start petitions to have them removed.  If they didn’t want other people to know what they think and how they feel, they wouldn’t be songwriters.

I am completely in favor of songwriters being paid and paid well for doing what they do.  I am completely against anyone other than a song’s writer making heaps of dough by recording the song and selling a gazillion copies, unless the songwriter also makes heaps of dough.  And that extends to using a melody in an advertising jingle, using a song in a movie or on television, or using a song in any other way to make heaps of dough.  If a song is used to make money (or, for that matter, in any serious commercial attempt to make money), the songwriter ought to be in for a significant slice of the pie.

BMI and ASCAP, the two major organizations that represent the financial interests of songwriters, have protected many of them through the years from being ripped off in just this way.  The power of these two giants is legendary: in the courts and in the entertainment industry, their success rate in collecting royalties for their constituents is widely known and much feared, and that’s good.  No one ever should profit from the work of another without paying.

To digress for a bit, here in Phoenix, where I live and do most of my performing, we’re blessed with quite a few civic-minded individuals who give of their time and energy to organize and supervise various amateur folk music venues.  One of these, Fiddler’s Dream Coffeehouse, is a not-for-profit foundation, hosted (but not sponsored) by a Quaker church.  Fidd’s features local performers every Friday and Saturday night, many of whom (including myself) play songs written by other people.

Also, we have several regular venues here in the Valley of the Sun (no pity, please, it’s a dry heat!) that use municipal facilities such as parks and libraries to house performances much like Fiddler’s Dream’s.  These shows are free and open to the public, musicians are not paid, and the city pays for the air conditioning.  These programs have no budgets, depending wholly on volunteerism, and no money changes hands.  We who love to play folk music are very lucky that these people (and city governments) do what they do, so that we have places to play, and my friends and I play these shows every chance we get, just for the fun of it, and to further the folk process (more about the folk process later).

Several weeks ago, I heard through the local folkie grapevine that one of our favorite civic folk music programs is in danger of being discontinued.  Someone from BMI/ASCAP contacted the coordinator and informed her that she would have to hand over $$$ or risk being sued (in this case, it would mean the city would be sued).

Since hearing this, I have learned that many of these money-free events that my friends and I support are already paying off BMI/ASCAP and have been for a while, even though no one is making any money.  I was shocked.  How does this work?  Who is being protected and from what?  Volunteerism is not taxable, but it is actionable?

Now, about that folk process I mentioned: Joseph Campbell writes that language is the single most important aspect of any culture, and I wouldn’t argue with Joseph Campbell, but I would bet that folk art (songs, dances, storytelling) holds a respectable second place.  Since the early days of this country, many folks have written and performed music without a thought to being paid, being famous, or being on the radio.  The reason I know this is that I can still find many of those songs on old recordings, often performed by someone other than the writer.  Many are still available, on the Smithsonian/Folkways label, Rounder records, or other archival labels.  Were it not for one folksinger repeating what another wrote, there would be no folk music legacy for us to talk about and tune our banjos to.  Traditionally, the folks who continue this process of handing down songs from generation to generation and community to community expect no pay (well, okay, sometimes), but neither have they paid for the privilege.  The coolest thing about the folk process is that it is a social process, not a commercial endeavor.  People just doing what people do, you know?

Now along come the big shots from BMI/ASCAP, which, by the way, are quite profitable operations.  Their missions might be to protect composers from exploitation, but their goals are the same as any other American enterprise: to make money, pretty much any way they can!

So now we are at the point at which a couple of big city lawyers with expensive suits and good haircuts can walk into any public place where music is shared, even if no money is changing hands, and demand payment.

The handful of songwriters I know do not support this.  I think BMI/ASCAP are not so much protecting composers as they are lining their own pockets, at the expense of stifling a serious part of our American culture.  If you disagree, you’re wrong, but I’d like to hear from you anyway.