Independence Days

by Alex; Ogg

  Watts-Russell’s own enthusiasm was nose-diving. “The last idea I’m truly proud of was to take over the ICA for the 13 Year Itch”. A series of concerts over five nights at the London venue in 1993, it featured live performances from the label’s roster. “13 Year Itch – does that not make anyone think? On the t-shirt it had ‘shuffle’ – i.e. ‘shuffle off this mortal coil’, in brackets. I thought it was clear as daylight in 1993 that I was really losing it, but no-one was reading the signs. It was a changed beast, all of my own making, I didn’t have to do the label deal in America or move out there. I fell bonkers in love and got married, but we could have moved back to England. I was lost. I got lost! It was a big lesson – but it felt obvious to me how and why things were done at 4AD for the first 13 or 14 years, and people around me had seen a lot of those years – but I have learned that I expect people to read my mind. In the past, I’ve not been very good at truly saying what my thoughts were, and I assumed that people got it. For better or worse, for a label like this to function successfully with the kind of individual direction it had for its earliest years – it’s virtually impossible to change that and expect it to function satisfactorily.”

  He concedes that he made ‘poor choices’. He needed someone to steady the ship back in England. “I chose two wonderful people, but two poor choices in terms of taking on those jobs. Simon [Harper] wouldn’t do it, he wouldn’t take it on – so we hired someone who didn’t work out, followed by someone else who didn’t work out.” Being absent from the UK operation didn’t help. “Oh yeah. I think there were even, perhaps, factions growing up – ‘We’re doing this for fucking America,’ perhaps. I’m not sure. It got to a point where I wasn’t going back. I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t even going into the American offices. People had to make decisions because I wasn’t making them. Then being the kind of person I am or was, I wasn’t happy with those decisions. It was terrible. This thing was collapsing, and to get to the point of perhaps getting it back, there was a realisation that moving back to England would be required, and that wasn’t even on my radar at that point.”

  There were still good 4AD records to come [Watts-Russell particularly enthuses about Red House Painters, Mojave 3, His Name Is Alive and Heidi Berry], but not everybody was taking the label’s stamp of quality on face value, after under-performing records by the likes of Scheer, Tarnation, Liquorice, Air Miami and the Amps, etc. There was some chart action in 1996 for Lush, with their uncharacteristic ‘Ladykiller’. The band reported that Watts-Russell laughed his head off in the studio the first time he heard it. “You always have to put it in context with what was going on at the time,” he says. “Tim Carr was the A&R person at Warner Brothers who had already licensed Lush, so that was top of his list of things he really liked and thought could be successful. Tim’s a nice man. But there was definitely [a feeling of] – ‘Christ, something needs to sell and break through’. Britpop was happening then. Irony of ironies – the first band that ever agreed to go on Top Of The Pops was Lush [for follow-up, ‘Single Girl’], and I wasn’t even in the country. Knowing Miki [Berenyi; co-vocalist] and who she was singing about – maybe it made it funny. Maybe it did make me laugh. But if I was talking about Lush, I’d be talking ‘Ethereal’ and ‘Desire Lines’ in particular… I’ll stand in defence of Lush any day of the week. I think by then there was something much bigger that was so horrifically distasteful to me, but yet we were participating in it. The whole formatting idea to try to achieve a chart position is so disrespectful of the public and the antithesis of what I believed in. Ambitious artists and, especially, managers, were a relatively new and not particularly enjoyable part of day to day life.”

  Eventually Watts-Russell offered to sell the label back to Beggars in 1999. “Martin and I always had a buy or sell option. If either one of us wanted out, we contractually had to offer it to the other one first. Between ’94 and ’98, when the seeds were sown for my departure, whenever I was thinking about it, what always sprung to mind was that I was a caretaker of copyrights. I felt guilty. I couldn’t let stuff go. Then one had to be honest with oneself.” He is understandably reticent about revealing much beyond that. “I choose not to take that path. For most of the people working at 4AD I did compose, in 1994, a fax explaining what I was going through. Most of the people working there had a vague idea for the reason behind my disappearance. A lot of the musicians don’t. I’ve never had anybody call me up about it. I always assumed everybody knew enough to let me off the hook for dumping them.” He reconsiders. “Hang on, that isn’t really true. Simon Harper was still there, Robin Hurley and Chris Staley were still there, and Deborah, although we’d split up, was there before she went to Island. There were still some fabulous people regardless of my lack of involvement. It did mean a couple of signings that I should never have approved. There’s no excuse for Cuba!”

  It’s evident Watts-Russell’s complete enthusiasm for music hasn’t deserted him (during the course of our conversations, he made me copies of some albums he thought I should listen to – which were only tangentially linked to 4AD). And he’s clear on the impact of this period in music. “It’s as real as someone being inspired by history or archeology or something at an early stage, and they go off to pursue that inspiration and end up being authors, lecturers or whatever on the subject. The tuning into Luxembourg or John Peel at Radio 1 later, that thing of the light bulb going off for all of us would have been the mid to late-60s in music, is something that changed our lives forever. And we simply ended up making use of that at a point in time where the stars were all aligned for an explosion of creativity and originality and a clean slate.” 4AD continues to this day, signing new artists including Bon Iver, TV On The Radio and Blonde Redhead. But Watts-Russell is no longer involved. “People like Martin and Geoff Travis and Daniel Miller I have extraordinary admiration for,” he states. “They managed somehow to translate their passion and enthusiasm into ‘enjoying’ running a business. And it’s a talent that I lack. I managed to run a business, but I ended up hating it. I moved to America and fell in love, then found a piece of land in the middle of nowhere and ended up building a house.”

  In the late 80s, before 4AD had its unexpected success with ‘Pump Up The Volume’, Beggars expanded again in order to carve out a slice of the dance market. Citybeat Records was inaugurated in 1986 under the auspices of Tim Palmer (who ran Groove Records in London’s Greek Street with brother Chris). “It’s weird how the first great British house record ended up on 4AD,” says Mills, remembering ‘Pump Up The Volume’. “We’d never have planned it. But you’re right, we were getting involved in Citybeat, because that period in the 80s reflected the period in the 70s. The DIY ethos of punk was also there in house music. Although the music sounded very dissimilar, the spirit was very similar.”

  Although Citybeat had some success (with the likes of Rob Base and DJ EZ-Rock, and in particular by licensing the dance smash ‘Doop’) it more significantly provided the foundations for the XL imprint in 1989. XL, with Tim Palmer as MD running the label alongside the reclusive Richard Russell and Nick Halkes as head of A&R, enjoyed huge success with a roster that included The Prodigy (who achieved a number one in 27 countries and sold seven million records with Fat Of The Land). “The bizarre thing about XL,” suggests Mills, “is that initially it was started as a company releasing underground 12-inch dance singles that were chart-ineligible. It was meant to be the uncommercial arm of Citybeat.”

  By 1993 Halkes had left to run EMI’s commercial dance subsidiary Positiva, and then his own independent dance label, Incentive. Palmer also exited in 1994, retiring from the music business, leaving Russell in sole stewardship. He moved to broaden the musical catalogue from that point. Mills watched the personnel come and go, and at least partially helped steer the ship. “Much more so than at 4AD,” he says, “because 4AD was a free-standing operation until Ivo and I parted company, and Ivo decided to get out of the business. XL were always plugged into Beggars for everything e
xcept A&R, and for a small period of time press. Citybeat was always much more plugged into Beggars than 4AD.” That extended to hiring and firing. “Yes,” admits Mills. “But a lot of it is driven just by people wanting to do different things with their lives. We took over the rest of 4AD because Ivo wanted to retire from the business. We took over the rest of Citybeat because Tim wanted to go and live on a beach in Goa.”

  For a while 4AD’s success and standing was such that Beggars itself took a step back from the limelight. That same situation has developed in the noughties with the phenomenal hit rate of XL, via the White Stripes. Basement Jaxx, Vampire Weekend, the Horrors, the Raconteurs, Dizzeee Rascal and the more recent adventures of Radiohead – in essence, the strongest stable of contemporary artists in the UK alongside Domino Records. The pattern appears to be, throughout Beggars as a group’s history, that some labels come to the fore as others recede into the background – but Mills seems quite comfortable with that. “I have to say that it’s the secret of our success. As an individual independent label run by an individual – you can’t be ‘on it’ year after year after year. You just can’t do it. Nobody can, and nobody ever has. You just don’t have the energy to hold your breath for that long. I think that having a stable of independent labels that ebbs and flows has been the secret of our success.”

  The Radiohead snatch is hugely significant, in that it indicates the near 180-degree turn in the music industry. The Oxford quintet’s early, unapologetic decision to throw their lot in with the UK’s most famous major label attracted no little conjecture (admittedly mostly retrospectively, when they actually started selling records), as too did their decision to give away ‘for donation’ their most recent studio album, In Rainbows. Given their privileged position, the decision to sign to an independent marked some sort of tacit admission that a stable, well-run independent like Beggars/XL could provide every advantage, and few of the disadvantages, of a major label in 2008.

  Beggars, meanwhile, continues to enjoy success in its own right with Biffy Clyro, The National and Tindersticks. It now has offices in most major territories, including Japan, America, France and Germany, as well as joint-venture outlets in Australia and Spain. Mills: “Those territorial operations allowed us to move from licence deals, where we were in effect sub-contracting our responsibilities, to distribution deals, where we had our own people who really understood how best to represent our music. With us making our own investments and taking our own risks, and operating as a global business.” There have also been a number of acquisitions. Notable examples have included Too Pure, originally formed in 1990 by Richard Roberts and Paul Cox, and the launching pad for PJ Harvey and Stereolab. There was also an association with Wiiija Records, formed by Gary Walker of Rough Trade Records in 1988, and acquired by Beggars eight years later, whose most notable successes were the launch of riot grrrl act Huggy Bear, Cornershop and Therapy? A 50% share in Matador, one of the most respected independents in America, was agreed in 2002. As well as the Momentum Music Publishing Company, Beggars has also formed an alliance with the internet site Playlouder for more effective distribution of digital content, as well as being one of the key contributors to the success of e-music (licensing whole catalogue content). It was one of the true visionary labels in this area, having digitised said catalogue well before the turn of the century.

  The 50% deal with Matador, according to Mills, is among the company’s most important ones. “Our relationship was crucial for us in terms of growing as a company in America. At the time we got into bed with them, we had eight people in America and they had 30, so they were much the bigger company in terms of size. But we’ve settled down to pretty much the same, it’s 60-40 or 40-60 Beggars/Matador, in terms of our American business. And the input of Matador Music around the world has been good for the group in America, because the partnership has been critical in establishing ourselves as a local company.”

  Not every tie-up has panned out as well. “We never really got on top of the Mo Wax situation,” laments Mills. “James Lavelle is a tremendous person in many ways, but we never really succeeded as business partners. We made some really good records and lost a fortune. That’s life!” There was also a small investment in Badly Drawn Boy’s label Twisted Nerve. “That was a very silent investment, and closely allied to having Damon as a recording artist. One of the things that we can do here is just give people a leg up and see if it works for both of us.”

  The concept behind the acquisitions is simple – that Beggars can provide central office functions – marketing, stock control, and both physical and digital sales – while the label itself retains a free hand to concentrate on A&R development. “There’s no point in interfering with the A&R,” states Mills. “Clearly I and other people here are closely involved in the deals, and in the terms in which we sign people and the terms in which we work with them. But it would be fairly pointless for me to get involved with businesses who are great with music and musicians and then try to tell them what to do – there is absolutely no point in me doing that. So I see myself as a sounding board and facilitator more than anything else.” Does that involve treading carefully with ‘passionate’ music fans – i.e., is Mills in a position where he has to say, that’s too much for that artist, you can’t do that? “Absolutely! Well, the first part, not the second! I would definitely say that’s too much for that artist, but I would never say, ‘you can’t do that!’ With all my partners, we always arrive at a consensus of what’s a reasonable position.” In terms of his expectations, too, he has a similar mantra to one or two other independent label heads featured in this book. He doesn’t expect anyone to turn a loss, but he doesn’t necessarily enter into a relationship with an expectation of profit.

  However, his most noteworthy acquisition, and the most historically piquant, was the July 2007 decision to purchase the remaining 49% of Rough Trade Records from the ailing would-be giant Sanctuary Records. The price tag was £800,000. Geoff Travis would confirm in press releases the “full circle” nature of this deal, given that he once sold Lurkers singles in his shop in Golborne Road (not that he actually admitted to liking them). The move was widely welcomed by those in the independent music community as a means of Rough Trade (which had enjoyed sustained recent success with the likes of The Libertines) reacquiring its independent status. “We share a culture that is about our artists and their work,” Travis stated. “To continue to be a wholly independent label, with the support of the Beggars Group, is the best of all possible worlds to our way of thinking.”

  “We’re equal partners with Geoff and Jeanette [Lee],” says Mills. “They still run it and manage it. It’s odd with Geoff, we’ve been in the same game for 25 or 30 years, but it took until Christmas before last [2006] for it to become evident to me that the Sanctuary ship was sinking. To pick up the phone to him and say, ‘Should we talk about getting involved?’ And it just naturally emerged from that. I think there’s a lot of respect between us and so far, so very good. We had an awful lot to fix, and I think we’ve fixed that, and now we have to fix the future.”

  But even a well-run company like Beggars is not immune to the new economics of the download generation. In April 2008 it was announced that both Beggars and Too Pure would fold as part of a restructuring, though several acts including The National, Stereolab and others would be transferred to 4AD in an effort to pool resources. Although there was a little hysteria in some elements of the press, this seemed in essence to be just another of the periodic occasions when Mills shuffles his pack.

  Mills continues to fight for the rights of independents; having served on the BPI Council from 1987 through to 2000, he was instrumental in setting up the Association of Independent Music (AIM) in 1999 and IMPALA in 2000, as well as the Worldwide Independent Network. He is especially well informed on both technological developments and their impact on the infrastructure of the music industry. Recently quizzed on the downgrading of music’s proprietary value, he made reference to the concept of brandi
ng as being little more than “an updating of the Florentine patronage model”. He has similarly made poignant entreaties on the need for global licensing and the folly of the majors pursuing a DRM model (also licensing the original Napster, at a time when the major labels were completely spooked by its development).

  “I go back to the ladder analogy,” Mills says of his various positions of advocacy for independent music in the UK. “I’m not sure if I helped build the ladder to climb up, but I do want to preserve every rung on the ladder for future people to climb up. And I think we’ve succeeded in creating through AIM a community for the independents here, which simply didn’t exist before. I think that’s been incredibly healthy. The independent sector has been through its ups and downs since AIM started, but it would have been miles worse off without AIM, and similarly around the world. I think it’s created a community of interest and a collective strength for independence.”

  It’s an important voice in an age of increasing acquisition and consolidation among the majors. And they do genuinely affect ‘big’ policy. “We really do. We have at least as strong a voice with governments around the world as the mainstream music industry does. And it’s clearly received as a very differentiated voice, and people like speaking to us because we’re all entrepreneurs, we run our own businesses. And I find it very satisfying the way people are prepared to put time into IMPALA for nothing, for the greater good. I mean, I’m sure there are intangible benefits that emerge – if you put time in, you get something out, I’m not sure what. It does help to form relationships. If you look at the classic MTV-VPL-AIM face-off of five years ago, that deal wouldn’t have happened if the independents hadn’t been collectively organised. And because it’s happened, those of us who have videos played on MTV get paid a decent amount of money for it. And that wouldn’t have been the case had we not done that.”