THE NAKED CITY: The Grumpy Aftermath Of The ARIAS

The Australian Recording Industry Association’s awards event was once the local music community’s night of nights – our own version of the Grammys and a gala occasion where no expense was spared in promoting the supposed best of local talent. In the golden years of Oz Rock and Pub Rock, competition for the pointy stainless steel pyramids was rife. The after parties, hosted by both the big and boutique record companies were legendary and hangovers prevailed amongst many who attended come the following working day.

As the digital streaming of music began to gain popularity in the late ’90’s and early 2000’s, record companies, as we had previously known them, almost ceased to exist. Many of the smaller independent companies shut up shop or were swallowed up by the multi-nationals. A brutal rationalisation took place whereby the remaining companies discarded hundreds of minor and promising artists, invested heavily in their Spotify stars and milked their back catalogue for all it was worth.

The days of A&R (artists and repertoire) scouts, hanging out at inner city pubs and clubs to discover and then nurture young and up and coming bands and singers, is well and truly gone. It’s easier now to allow talent shows like Australian Idol and Eurovision to uncover the latest ready-made singing stars and then sign them up for a series of singles and albums.

Whilst some of the old school survive, the big record companies are now largely run by accountants, their algorithms constantly scrutinising every streaming service and radio play list. A few smaller companies have survived or sprung up, and of course digital technology has enabled many musicians to record and distribute their own music, albeit without the support of the majors and often suffocated by the big boys’ monopoly presence.

Over the past decade the hoo haa which once greeted the ARIA awards has slowly declined. There has always been a predictability as to who will win but these days the field is even narrower. Once a guaranteed ratings bonanza for the major networks, they are now televised almost as an after thought with a diminishing production outlay indicative of their decline and relevance.

Not surprisingly Channel Nine’s low budget coverage of this year’s awards from the iconic Hordern Pavilion was panned the next day in both social media and the Daily Telegraph which described the production as ‘shambolic’ and ‘a shipwreck’. Perhaps the only saving grace was the strong emphasis on First Nations’ artists with a tribute to the late Archie Roach and multiple awards to Baker Boy.

The indigenous artists aside the rest of the live performances were low key and bland, indicative of the ‘look at me’, ‘Tik Tok’, self indulgent culture that prevails today and seems to define much of contemporary pop music. It’s a personal view but there’s a distinct absence of anything new, exciting or remotely innovative with musicians from Gens Y and Z. Maybe modern popular music has reached both a stylistic and ideological dead end.

Likewise the large corporate record companies have almost become irrelevant when compared to some of the ground breaking labels of the ’60’s, ’70’s and ’80’s. Given that this year’s televised award ceremony received a less than enthusiastic public reception, the Recording Industry Association might consider scrapping it all together and going straight to the after parties – at least spreading the kind of over the top largesse that marked the Bacchanalian celebrations of the pre digital era.

Could there be anything more hilarious than a coked up record exec or ARIA-winning popstar planting themselves on a couch in some swanky night club only to suddenly realise they have self-impaled on one those pointy ARIA gongs.

Whilst we do have AIR, The Australian Independent Record Labels Association, who dish out their own low key annual awards, there are still many self publishing musicians and tiny record companies who are continually overlooked.

Maybe it’s time for a third level recording association that would embrace anybody who has recorded and put out their own CD or short-run of vinyl. No awards ceremony, no extravagant after parties and definitely no TV coverage. If they do feel the need to hand out gratuitous annual gongs, may I suggest a defiant hand with the middle finger raised!