Rights and Royalties THE MELODY LINGERSAND THE PROFITS TOO

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30855, 14 September 1965, Page 16

Rights and Royalties THE MELODY LINGERS—AND THE PROFITS TOO

IBv

SHEILA BLACK,

in th* "Financial Times.")

(Reprinted from the "Financial Times" by arrangement.)

At this moment, a Latin guitarist might be strumming “Help !” in a Rio de Janeiro nightclub. In Zambia, a disc jockey might have “Planes and Boats and Trains” poised above the turntable. In Tokyo, a dark, sloeeyed beauty could be belting out “Downtown” across the footlights.

Around the end of next year, or even sometime in 1967, the royalties from those renderings, and hundreds of thousands like them, will have been converted into cheques that will land on the doormats of Messrs Lennon and McCartney. Bacharach, and Hatch. At the same time, more cheques will be sent to Northern Songs, Seventeen Savile Row Publishing, and the Welbeck Music Publishing Company. Their shares of the spoils, though as variable as the composers’ cuts, will never be more than 50 per cent of any fee.

The apparently impossible task of collecting all these rights and royalties, and of redistributing them to lyric writers, composers and publishers are handled by nonprofit making societies in 32 countries all operating on similar lines to the British Performing Right Society. There are still more countries planning to join the scheme and, until they do, existing societies are entitled to operate on their unguarded territories. The only odd man out is Russia—although most of the Eastern European countries are in the scheme. Russia has its own system and royalties arrive in almost inexplicable ways. 500 Employees The Performing Right Society in London’s Berners street employs about 500 people, of whom about twothirds are engaged on collecting money and one-third on distributing it. There are .also a few field agents who harry defaulters and track down avoiders, but most of the col- ' ection and dunning is done by post, which saves considerably on administration expenses. In larger countries, such as America, more work is done by local agents and costs can be higher. Every “music-user” pays a fee. The term is a wide one, embracing brass bands, boarding houses, hairdressing salons and shops that play the radio to customers. While one may listen to a radio at home, mass listening facilities are chargeable. A factory, for example—or its canteen—pays a daily charge of Id for each half-hour’s music enjoyed by 25 employees (dr part thereof). The minimum annual fee is 2 guineas and bigger fees are subject to rebates under certain circumstances.

A boarding house or hotel tariff is negotiated according to agreements between the P.R.S. and the various hotel and restaurant associations. Public houses get a blanket agreement—more than 30,000 of these have performing right or music licences. Rates can work out, as low as 2s 6d a night, which allows the playing of as many numbers as the publican or his entertainer likes. Juke boxes, how-

ever, come under different agreements. These are metered so that the number of times each tune is played is automatically recorded. Tariffs are agreed on the potential income or actual income; a “points” system for each number according to its popularity. is also brought into play. It works out at around 4d or 6d “a single pity” which means about 13 guineas a year in royalties in the case of many juke boxes. Music for Dancing' Dance halls come off lightly. Originally, they were asked for 2 per cent of the “gate.” But an appeal to the Government’s official performing right and copyright tribunal got this reduced to 1) per cent. This means that a dance hall which plays 24 numbers in a night to 200 people at 4s an admission is paying only 12s —or 6d a tune. In Italy the tariff is 10 per cent, and in France 8.8 per cent. In almost every other world country, dance-hall tariffs are higher and composers fare better. ‘ Bingo halls get their music at an average of 3s a sitting. Concert halls and variety theatres pay 2 per cent of the actual box office takings or 1.75 of the potential of a full house. The redistribution to composers is done in the offices of the P.R.S.. with the aid of I.C.T. computing. The P.R.S. sends out its cheques quarterly, after deducting administration expenses. These amount, on average, to about 11 per cent, which is lower than in some other countries. The Society also runs a pension scheme for its members (325 publishers and about 150,000 international composers among others) which is voluntary and contributory.

Administration costs are comparatively low in Britain because, on the whole, people are honest. In fact, there is a noticeable increase in the number of music users who voluntarily seek registration. But there are still large numbers who wait until they are caught. A great many are traced through anonymous letters. Among the worst culprits are vicars. Rights fees are generally waived for churches and hospitals by international agreement. But this does not cover church halls, bazaars and fetes although some clergy tend to think they should. According to some fee objectors, creation should be its own reward. This week’s report from Northern Songs, and the strength of such concerns as Chappells, with its religious, educational, and many other music publishing subsidiaries, might lead one to think that the rewards of creation are higher than they are. For Northern Songs, the Beatle phenomenon has been the biggest factor. But it is just that—a phenomenon. “Help!” for example, has sold more than 800,000 records already—with overseas figures still to come—whereas many of the top 20 discs, especially those in the lower half, may sell only 50,000. For every 100,000 discs sold, the composers can expect to get around £2OO to £3OO and the publisher a similar sum. Disc companies pay 6} per cent of the retail price to the publishing, writing and composing consortium, and the proceeds are split by agreement, with the publisher receiving probably half the returns. But all costs are borne by publishers at all stages.

The Biggest Buyer

The British Broadcasting Corporation is the biggest buyer of music—it paid something over £l.3m to P.R.S. last year. A peak-hour broadcast, if nationally networked, can mean a composer royalty of around £3 Housewives’ Choice tots up a number of £3s in less than an hour each morning. A regional pro-

: gramme pays less, as do mechanical reproduction programmes using records and tapes made from previous ; shows. Television pays between £8 and £l2 a minute according to time and coverage. In the United States the fee is approximately £3O, which is comparable in view of the difference in salary scales. What does it all mean to the composer? Certainly not riches. The average annual payment is under £4OO. And, since this includes the big money-spinning numbers, many composers often earn only a few shillings at a time. (The paternal P.R.S. sends out one payment just before Christmas.) In a recent exercise, it took 15 names at random from a current list of 91 British composers. In a year, these 15 earned £5874. bn average, eight of these composers earned about 30s a week each. In all. the Society collected about £5 million last year for the 150,000 international share-out. Exports are big, and their balance of payments two years ago was about £lBO.OOO on the right side, since many British songs earn more overseas than at home (excluding disc sales). The balance with the United States has, however, always been to America’s advantage. But the Beatles have improved that condition for the time and “we are probably earning nearly as much in dollars as we pay out in sterling," says Royce Whale, P.R.S.’s music-loving manager. The Most Profitable To help anyone who is not discouraged by the prospect of perhaps £350 a year rather than the goldmines which get the headlines, I asked what might be the most profitable kind of music t write. The answer was incidental or theme music for films and television—like “Dream of Olwen” or "Warsaw Concerto”—which is played for years and brings in the best steady incomes. The big hits that die soon attract heavy taxation in their boom years with little to come later. Church music is a good bet, better than orchestral music in serious vein—although Coleridge Taylor notched up a big score, and his widow, who lived to enjoy 48 years of the 50 years’ copyright that survives a composer’s death, also fared well. In pop music, the steady money - spinners include “Night and Day,” “I Met Her In Monterey,” and “Stardust." In Britain, “Lady of Spain” comes regularly and profitably off the organ keyboards and from the strings of palm court trios. “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” is another hardy perennial. Mr Whale’s own tip for a stayer in the years ahead is Acker Bilk’s “Stranger on the Shore.” Here, he believes, is one of the deathless, repeat-edly-played compositions. Mr Dick James, singer turned publisher, thought that Northern songs had many of these properties, thanks to Lennon-McCartney. He looks for 50 years of receipts after the death of these yo-ng men from most of their melodies but especially, perhaps, from "That Means a Lot,” recorded by P. J. Proby for September publication. Another top tune could be “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” published yesterday and sung by another Epstein group, The Silicle. But Mr James stressed the need to diversify and to keep the supply of songs going. “We had 28 hits in eight years before we got Lennon and McCartney. Then we got seven in seven months. We would gear our management to the norm and keep the vein of gold running steadily rather than bank on the spectacular.”