So I just won my first online music contest after losing about 99 others. Entering contests is just a part of being a musician these days. Every other week, you get an email that says something like: 'Ten Billion Contestants Will Enter, but Only One Will Get to Open for the White Snake/Black Sabbath/Meat Loaf Reunion Tour! Will It Be You?' You click the link, ignoring the part of your brain reminding you that you hate White Snake and Black Sabbath. Admittedly, you have a soft spot for Meat Loaf. After some fancy Flash animation set to death metal convinces you there's no way in bat-out-of-hell you're ever entering this stupid thing, you see the rules. The words "No Entry Fee" glimmer like gold. Suddenly, you realize there's really nothing to lose by entering. And really, "Here I Go Again On My Own" isn't that bad a song. So you throw your hat into the ring. Even though you couldn't care less if you win, you find yourself bookmarking the page and coming back a few times a day, just to see what's new. Then you lose, weep, and repeat. Until a few days ago that is.
Wednesday I became the official winner of the Gather First Tracks Competition and I now have a record deal with Decca Label Group. Hold your applause please.
As the means of locating new talent has gone digital, there's no easier way for agents, publishers, record labels, galleries, and circus promoters to drum up both talent and buzz than by running a contest online. Even if there's no audience outside of the entrants, you can bet every one of them is going to check out the winning material, if only to say, "Man, I'm way better than that guy." In many ways, this new process has given artists more control over their careers than ever before. One doesn't have to count on luck, or getting an A&R rep out to a show (A&R reps are about as imposing and as rare as Blue Whales). All it takes to get discovered these days is to enter into every single contest, raffle, lottery and bake sale out on the old World Wide Web. Assuming one has faith in the meritocracy (And in Bush's America circa 2008, who doesn't?), it will only be a matter of time before one's inherent awesomeness is recognized and rewarded. Of course, the downside of all these opportunities is the flooding of the marketplace. There might be a lot of venues out there, but each one is more packed than a picture from Where's Waldo?.
When Gather's competition came around a couple months ago, I'll admit, I entered more out of a sense of obligation than optimism. There's a Kafka story called 'Before The Door of the Law,' in which a guy tries everything in his power to get through a certain door. The doorman accepts all of his bribes, but never lets him through. All he says is, "I'm only accepting this so you won't think there's something you haven't tried." That was my attitude towards contests. I entered so I wouldn't think there was something I hadn't tried.
And lo and behold, after two rounds of public voting and one round judged by a panel of music industry folks, I and four others were chosen for the finals. We were all flown to New York to record a final song in front of Decca Label Group execs. It was so amazing to finally get far enough in a contest to reap a tangible prize, I almost cried. Stranger still, after a final round of heavy voting, I managed to win.
So now I stand on the precipice of success, shielding my eyes from the brutal rays of fame, looking down on the valley of... something. Honestly, I have no idea what's going to happen from here. I'll get to record a 5-song EP with Decca, a major label, which is every musician's dream. I've just been granted a visitor's pass to the toughest contest of them all: the marketplace. Who knows how long I'll be allowed to stay?
To that end, I have just one last thing to say: Please buy my record.
On the Net: http://firsttracks.gather.com