Friday, June 24, 2005

Wot's Da Deal? - RWD & Come Again - October 2004

As the garage scene takes flight AGAIN, with more and more people catching on, getting noticed, and "getting signed", there seems to be lots of hype over being picked up by a major label. Ok, if you get signed that's cool (hook me up) but don't let it this be all you're in the game for.

The case for being signed
The FAT advance.
If you go with the right company they will sort you out with what's called an advance. It's like when you get all the wages from your part time job (for the next eight years) in one lump sum. They can't have their next major artist walking around in shabby clothes. Obviously Andre 3000 didn’t have such a deal with his label.
More heads will know you.
If all goes well, simple trips to Argos to get credit will be hassle. You might even be asked for your autograph...or is that someone from Argos asking you to sign for the L3 you just put on your solo card?
Seeing your sh*t in shops.
This must be one of the best feelings (apart from when that cheque cleared). Imagine going into a record shop and seeing your tune in amongst all the big names like
Wiley and that Craig Davis dude.
Outta the ghetto, into the frying pan.
The chance to get off the streets is big. If everything goes right you could see yourself going from the grimy endz to the S-Class Benz. Which one would you like to roll in?
The groupie. As long as you don't do ‘an Usher’, groupies would be jokes. Picture someone queuing 6 hours in the rain just to get a glimpse of you or buying tickets to see you in concert. No, don't think of them as sad losers. It's these very people that put all those new clothes on your back. (It's the ones with the tattoo of your face on their back you need to watch out for).

The case against being signed
Getting left on the shelf.
This would be scary, even scarier then Victoria Beckham's next single. It's not about being signed, telling EVERYONE, and then the label saying..."It's not your time yet kid, we'll release the album in the summer" (of 2008).
Read the small print fool.
These big labels are out to make serious dough; they don't really care about you. They might even try and change your flow, turn a raw grime act into the next Boys' Aloud or something. All singing, all dancing... LONG!!!
Straight to your head.
With all this so called fame. You'll start to wear shades when doing your PA in a rave. Or worse, try and buss a yellow and orange velour Roc-a-wear tracksuit with P.I.M.P encrusted in diamonds on the back. Ok that last one might be a bit far (just get your initials).
The descent into nothingness.
Ok you might release one decent album. All good, but what happens when you get dropped...that's right...those burgers won't flip themselves. Suddenly you'll find yourself being trained up on the till by some ex-Big Bro contestant asking customers, "would you like to go large?"
The beg friend.
When you get signed by Deliver Us Money Bitch records, these people will come out from nowhere. They will pretend they went to school with you or looked after you, when you were like four. Look out for lines like - "Member me cus, I used to sit next to you in ‘istory". You can tell he's lying...cus everyone knows that History was bunked – standard.

Both hold a strong case; it would be heavy; all the publicity, fame and attention would be good, oh and the money. However like Puffy said "Mo money, mo problems" - I bet he was talking about finding a parking space for his Hummer. The jury is out on this one because being signed can be the start and sometimes the end of your career. Getting signed is like when you drop your biscuit in your tea (it's all about custard creams). It stays at the top for a while getting all the attention...then sinks rapidly to the bottom, only to be seen again all soaked, wet and used.