A few years ago I was writing a screenplay about the music business. So for research I wrangled a VIP ticket to the American Music Awards. After the telecast there was a big on-site party, which I attended. I was the only person there not in a velvet suit or leather. I wore a sportsjacket. I must’ve looked like a narc. I spoke to a number of the rock stars and the lucid ones gave me some good information for my screenplay. I couldn’t tell you who they were and even if I could you probably wouldn’t know who they were. But they were big, trust me.
That’s the thing that struck me most. The shelf-life of most rock stars is probably less than a porn star’s. It takes a real effort to keep up with who’s at the top of the pops. And for years and years I did. But eventually I just said, “this is like keeping track of CW shows.” So I stopped. And within two years I knew practically nobody.
Someone could win nine Grammys one year and be playing at Six Flags Magic Mountain the next.
My heart goes out to these performers because the music industry is a revolving door. And very few performers even get to where they’re in the sweet spot where Grammys are even possible. How many American Idols have been dumped by their record labels? 80,000,000 people vote for these nimrods and two years later only six buy their new album.
So seeing who wins Grammys this year is like seeing who is the big winner on Bingo night. Next week there will be another Bingo night and next year there will be more Grammys. Half the 2019 winners are probably playing small clubs right now and half the 2018 winners will be taking their place.
Who can keep up? It’s hard enough to keep track of which free agents in baseball will go to which clubs and what night SUPERGIRL is on.
from By Ken Levine
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