Everyone’s a Rock Star Somewhere

Last week, I talked about the issue of selling out, and how much less important it is than many people believe.

In the course of doing that, I put forward the following corollary to Andy Warhol’s famous declaration that “In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.”

Today, everyone’s a rock star somewhere.

It’s a world of niches.  Tha means that an act or musician or performer that your cubicle mate would swoon over means absolutely nothing to you, and vice versa.

Take Janet Klein and her Parlour Boys for instance.  As you can see by looking at the feedback for the event I just linked, there’s a passionate following for the group, but it’s very niche.  They revive songs from the 1910s, 20s and 30s and do it with a funky post-modern twist.

The people who like it really like it and many of them look forward to the next chance to see them perform, but Janet has no trouble if she wants to have a nice peaceful meal at a Hollywood restaurant.

But within the sphere of her fans, she’s a rock star.

20 or even 15 years ago, it would have been difficult to have a following the size of Janet Klein’s.  She would have few ways to keep a group of fans connected or to feel a sense of participating with her as a fan.  It would have been difficult to produce or market recorded music or, for that matter, to market a live show.

Back then, it was basically up or out.  Get big or go get a real job.  And if you were big, you were really big.  You were a rock star everywhere.

And there are still a few of those, but have you noticed that most of them made it big in the Live 1.0 era?  A commenter on the site the other day said that “U2 is the last U2.”  True enough.  A few months ago, Stewart Copeland of The Police told me a similar thing, saying, “The rock star of the future is a niche guy.  He’s not going to be paid nearly the fortunes, but he might have a more secure future.  He might be in more personal control of his career.  It’s just not going to be the huge jet set career.”

So here’s the trade off: you’re much more likely to be able to make a living (possibly a really nice living) doing your thing artistically and you’ll own your life, as opposed to being the well-groomed pet of a king-maker.

But you probably won’t have the money to build Graceland as a result.  Or be able to afford smashing up your hotel rooms as you tour.

Or, yes, drive a Rolls Royce into a swimming pool as part of a big night out.

But if you like the idea of a world in which lots of different kinds of theatre, music, performing arts, circuses and whatever else are blossoming and growing in their own small (or not so small) way, then you’re probably going to like the future.

The future where everyone’s a rock star somewhere, and almost no one is a rock star everywhere.