100 books like Hit Men

A century ago, the record industry sent representatives all over the country to do field recordings of vernacular artists playing folk, blues, and early country for “hillbilly” and “race” records (the sort that Rounder would start putting out in the 1970s).

One of these scouts was Ralph Peer from the Victor Talking Machine Company, for which he oversaw 1927’s legendary “Bristol Sessions.” It was the first time that Hall of Fame titans the Carter Family and Jimmie Rodgers recorded, generally cited as the beginning of the country music industry.

As explained in Barry Mazor’s excellent biography, Peer went on to become one of the giants of the recording and publishing industry, laying the groundwork that pretty much every record label including Rounder has followed since.

You might think that every artist you hear on the radio is rolling in dough, and it does work out that way for a fortunate few.

But for the vast majority of acts, recording and releasing and promoting music is an enormous amount of work with an uncertain payoff that may never come. Geoffrey Stokes’ from-the-trenches account of the 1970s-vintage country-rock band Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen taking their major-label shot is an eye-opening account of how the sausage gets made – and how hard it is to break even.

In contrast to expensive sessions that leave artists in debt, Rounder’s model was always proudly low-budget.

Commander Cody made that album for Warner Brothers Records during the time when the U.S. record business was grossing over a billion dollars a year.

During those heady days, no label group better exemplified the positive side of the industry than Warner, which stood as proof that you really could have profits with honor. From Frank Sinatra to Madonna, Warner put out music that generated sales and critical acclaim in equal measure.

Stan Cornyn was an executive at Warner for 34 years, overseeing countless publicity campaigns, and this delicious memoir evokes the industry’s glory days in the prestige penthouse. If Rounder was the cream of the independent-label crop, Warner was top of the major-label heap.

The record industry was at its compact-disc-era peak in the late 1990s, when a tech firm called Napster went into business. A file-sharing service, Napster allowed listeners to trade digital versions of songs online for free.

The record industry ignored it at first and then tried to fight it before giving in and offering its music for purchase as online downloads, but it was too late. The genie was out of the bottle, and label revenue plunged by more than half. There were some grim years before online streaming took hold, which boosted the record industry to its highest peak ever in the 2020s.

By then, Rounder was no longer an independent label – sold to the Concord Music Group. It exists to this day, but on a more modest scale than before.

One of the most legendary producers in music history, Visconti enabled the talent and genius of ground-breaking artists such as David Bowie, Iggy Pop, T Rex, Thin Lizzy, Wings, and U2.

This is an insider’s view from a brilliant musician and arranger, an intimate view from a man whose talent earned the trust of the talented. The book is filled with fascinating personal tales of his work, and photos from his private collection.

No one combines the business of indie scenes – from production to labels to distribution – better than Holly Kruse. In this accessible yet rich book, she details the complicated structure of the alternative system that Azerrad nods to in his history of the bands that occupied the airwaves and whose products circulated through these systems.

To say that these independent music labels and distributors operated completely absent of the corporate music industry from the beginning is a canard, as Kruse demonstrates, but she also reveals the personal and particular practices that shaped these emerging commercial relationships and consumption patterns that undergirded music fans’ ability to participate in music scenes locally, as well as to access sounds from across the nation, and indeed the world. 

Every Sunday night for nearly a decade between the mid-70s and early 80s, most young Australians could be found in one place – in front of the TV, watching Countdown. Countdown was the most powerful force in the local pop/rock scene, the maker and breaker of hits. Published in 1993 in the afterglow of the show’s long run, Glad All Over, by former Age journalist Peter Wilmoth, is an appropriately loving tribute, which includes acknowledging the many (like me!) who loved to hate the show but still always watched it! As mostly oral history, it’s a sparkling story, and if the Countdown phenomenon still begs harder analysis – because as much as it was a great booster for Australian music, it actually blocked just as much – that’s the nature of a new historiography: the field has to get opened up first, and then is subject to increasingly… show more.

This romance novel takes the classic “opposites attract” trope and spins it into a heartfelt exploration of loneliness and connection, turning points and second chances. Indie rock guitarist Ali knows she should quit dreaming about her brother’s band hitting the big time and commit to her future career in engineering, but it hurts to let go. Kristen has been a country pop star since she was a kid, and the grueling lifestyle has already taken its toll on her. I loved seeing them gradually come to trust one another through their shared passion for music, and the scenes where they write songs together are as intense and charged as the romantic scenes.

It’s not an easy task to convey the carnal intensity and animal abandon of a performer whose default mode has always been unadulterated excess, but Paul Trynka’s masterful study of Iggy Pop hit the motherlode. Trynka went the extra mile and then some, tracking down hundreds of key witnesses to, and victims of, Pop’s creative chaos, and even attending his high school reunion (which is more than Iggy did). Jaw-dropping anecdotes were legion (taking a mid-gig dump behind the speakers, anyone?) and Trynka captured the driven essence of this brittle soul, perennially fighting the world while never even knowing why.

With Gender, Branding, and the Modern Music Industry, Kristin Lieb provides an enlightening but often troubling account of the contemporary pop music industry. By focusing on women artists in the post-MTV era, Lieb demonstrates that female pop singers are judged more than ever on their sex appeal—despite the advances of the women’s movement over the past several decades. Lieb draws from both theorists and music industry insiders, giving her conclusions weight and credibility. Yet despite its frequently disturbing findings, the book is not overly cynical. Lieb, an energetic writer, has managed to maintain her enthusiasm for pop music.