Perception Is Reality

By, Wendy Day (www.WendyDay.com)

One of the most difficult parts of being in this industry, is accepting that perception is reality. What people THINK is true, IS true to them. Let me explain. If you think an artist is wack, he is wack. Even if 2 million screaming fans buy his music, you still think he’s wack. It would be difficult for anyone to convince you otherwise.

To millions of Americans, Michael Jackson was a pedophile, OJ Simpson was guilty and his all-star legal team beat the system, Obama is a Muslim socialist born in a foreign land (that’s just too funny), and Tupac is still alive. Proof or no proof, the belief is there. Their perception is their reality.

This mindset travels into business as well. If a record label thinks an artist is a good risk, has a strong buzz, and is talented, they will sign that act. But if the label thinks otherwise, that artist doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting a deal unless he or she does something to change the perception. So whether an artist has real talent or not, has never been of much relevance in the music industry—it’s the perception of talent that matters. Labels chase perceptions, because that is what’s accurate and real to them. If Waka Flocka is the hottest rapper on the streets of the south right now, then labels will scramble to sign him, work with him, and look for other artists like him. Perception is reality.

Once you understand this simple concept, it makes it far easier for you to move forward in the music industry.

If you are looking to get a good record deal, one that could actually lead to some longevity and success in the music industry, you will need to change (or control) the perception that labels (or those with money) have about you. If the perception is that you are a star, then you are a star. If the perception is that you are surrounded by a team that doesn’t understand the music business, then you don’t understand the music business.

When I have shopped deals in the past for artists, I always focused on changing the perception to be what we needed it to be to get the deal done. And for the most part, I did so with artists who were talented and could back up their 15 minutes of fame with some real artistic value. I learned this lesson very early in my career when I was shopping Eminem.

In 1996, I went to speak on a panel at an event in Detroit at the Athenium Hotel (I think it was called Music Mecca). I had driven there from Chicago with a rapper called Rhymefest, and there was a whiteboy rapping outside in a cipher that ‘Fest immediately recognized as hugely talented. Eminem was one of the best lyricists I had ever heard, but he was white and I knew the stigma of white rappers. Back then, the industry was just recovering from Vanilla Ice, a pop sensation that had a lot of money and promotion sunk into him, but he was later found out to be “pre-fabricated” (therefore not real), accounting for a huge loss to the label and industry as his career plummeted into obscurity.

So my perception of Eminem was that he was an incredible talent, but it would be hard to get a label to sign him. Enjoying a good challenge and being a little crazy, I offered to shop him a deal. For nine months, I took his package around to the labels trying to get anyone to see the value in his lyrics and ignore his skin color. Slowly some progress was made, and The Source Magazine covered him in the Unsigned Hype column (the holy grail for any unsigned rapper at the time, yet a small percentage of rappers covered in that column actually went on to have successful rap careers so the perception at the labels didn’t change much) and the Lyricist Lounge monthly showcase in NY embraced him. At that time in the industry, labels were less excited about an artist’s lyrical prowess, and more excited about the hype and buzz surrounding them. I knew that if we were going to get Em a deal, we’d have to change the perception of white rappers and change the perception of lyricists in the industry. I also knew we’d have to get some CDs out on the streets to try and build/expand the buzz.

I wasn’t alone in recognizing Em’s talent. He had Paul Rosenberg (he was a brand new lawyer at the time trying to be a brand new manager) shopping him a deal, a production company I never met or spoke with called the Bass Brothers, and a guy who owned a magazine named Mark who is outspokenly bitter about being cut out of the equation early on by Paul, Em’s manager. I have no idea whether he was or wasn’t, as he was gone by the time I started shopping Em’s deal. Truth is, I dealt as little as possible with Em’s team, just reporting back to Em or Paul regarding my progress, or lack thereof.

To shift perception, I put together an event called RapOlympics. My plan was to showcase lyricists in a competitive atmosphere and get M-TV and BET to cover it. If it became a hugely talked about event, it would showcase lyrics in a positive light while bringing attention to the best of the best—the winners. With RapSheet Magazine, a handful of volunteers, and the best lyricists in the country, I pulled it off in Los Angeles in 1997. I took a wicked financial loss (sadly, not my biggest one--Twista was the biggest financial loss I ever had in this industry), but my plan worked. Lyricists were brought into the spotlight (it wouldn’t last, unfortunately), Dr Dre signed Eminem to what I thought was an above average deal for a new artist, and fans of lyricists were encouraged that talent mattered once again.

I recall this story for you only because a few days ago, the manager of an unsigned group with a strong buzz called me to ask for advice getting his group signed. They had offers on the table, but the offers were low and were 360 Deal offers. He felt they weren’t in line with what the buzz and hype of the group warranted. He was 100% correct. As I called around to label presidents on another project, I struck up conversations about this hot group to see what the perception was, and every label had similar comments. The perception was that the team behind the group made bad business decisions, and once signed, the label feared this team would negatively impact their ability to make money. Their distaste ran so deep that most referred to the lawyer and manager by name, something labels rarely do. So the offers were low enough to counter this risk. It’s very hard to reposition disbelief in a team. It was especially frustrating to hear because I found their manager sharp and intelligent—the opposite of what the labels’ perception was.

Although I never voiced my opinion, I felt the only real way to counter this perception was to change the team (or the illusion of who the team was with a new manager and a new lawyer that the labels would respect, while keeping the old team involved behind the scenes). Or, create a new outside offer from an investor that would be higher than all of the low offers from the major labels. This would either drive the price up at the Majors, or give the group a deal within the price range they felt was worthy of their situation with an investor. I see many deals lost or lowballed because the labels don’t respect the manager, the lawyer, or the negotiator. In 2005, I did a deal at Motown for an artist whose lawyer received an offer for $350,000 and 15 points in August. It was the only label interested in the artist, so raising the stakes would be nearly impossible. The artist found out the lawyer wasn’t well respected at that label, fired him, and hired me. Within 30 days, the artist was signing a deal for a $650,000 advance with a 50/50 split on the backend—a far better deal. Perception is reality, so make certain it’s always to your advantage.