Beato Gets Offended: Yacht Rock and Genre Labels

Few have done more to promote music education and music appreciation than Rick Beato. I’m a fan of his YouTube channels and I’m in awe of his talent. That said, he flew a bit off the handle in a recent video about the retroactively applied label of yacht rock to identify a specific type of music that was produced more or less in the late 70s through the early 80s and has been popular as of late. Every major city in America seems to have at least a few bands sporting captain’s hats and playing the smooth sounds of Christopher Cross, Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald. A few months ago, the film Yacht Rock: a DOCKumentary dropped on MAX, and after close to a dozen of my musician friends recommended the film to me, I finally watched it a few weeks ago and enjoyed it, especially the ease with which the aforementioned musicians went along with the silliness of it all, recognizing that they’re lucky to still be relevant over forty years after their primes.

Beato watched the film as well, and while ultimately saying that he had no problem with the documentary, he claimed that the term yacht rock is “not only offensive and derogatory, but it’s a complete oversimplification of the diverse music that’s talked about in the movie.”

I’m going to overlook his conclusion that yacht rock is “offensive” because, well, that’s ridiculous. I’m offended by many things on Planet Earth, but the term “yacht rock” is not one of them, and I think if Beato were pushed, he’d probably back off on that. But the latter point of the genre being an oversimplification needs to be addressed.

What are genre labels for?

Genre labels are used to communicate with each other.  When I tell people about the fabulous band Black Pumas and they ask me what kind of music they play, I can’t just say “good music.” I have to communicate some kind of musical style so that my friends have a clue about whether this is a band they’d like to pursue. When asked about Black Pumas, I’ve always answered, “swampy Austin soul.” What does that mean, exactly? Well, hell, I don’t know, but somehow it seems to accurately convey the style of music they play. It may very well be that the band would disagree with this categorization, but that’s okay. It’s just a way to communicate. It’s why radio stations and record stores also identify genres. Just as you don’t want to tune into a station expecting to hear country only to hear a rap song instead, you don’t want to walk into a record store and have Metallica, Bing Crosby, Beyonce and Loretta Lynn all lumped in together. There is a point to all of this.

All genre labels are reductive. They’re all oversimplifications. Hell, the most reductive label of all is the term classical to describe over five centuries of extremely diverse music. Does a Bach prelude really have anything in common with a Stravinsky symphony? Not really. It probably has as much in common as Buddy Holly and Megadeath do. But it’s helpful to describe Buddy Holly’s music as 50s rock and roll and Megadeath’s music as metal. To call both of them “rock and roll” does us no good whatsoever. Genre labels help, as reductive as they might be.

I played in a yacht rock band for three years, and when people asked me what yacht rock was, I said, “smooth soft rock from the 70s and 80s.” THAT’S also an oversimplification! But what was I to say? We can’t perfectly describe music without being overly verbose and boring our audience. At some point we have to generalize. And to a lot of people, the term yacht rock is perfectly identifiable, allowing them to know exactly what type of music they can expect on a Saturday night at the local nightclub.

Prog rock is also an oversimplification. So are AOR, punk, easy listening, power pop, rap, hip hop, R&B, jazz, fusion, bebop and a dozen of other genres. On my podcast 1000 Greatest Misses, my partner and I often struggle to identify a band’s style: “It’s sort of punkish rockabilly with a little extra grit.” But at least the genre labels give us a place to start.

So I say to Rick Beato and others who’ve gotten their undies in a twist about something so inconsequential, just relax and go with it. The guys who coined the phrase yacht rock should be thanked and then thanked again by every artist who’s still making bank for songs they wrote in the 1970s.

A New Rock and Roll Podcast

A little late to the podcast game, but what the hell! My music-obsessed friend and I are starting a podcast called 1000 Greatest Misses, shining a light on 1000 undiscovered, obscure, and underappreciated songs that hit all the marks but failed to chart. On each episode and Christopher Grey and I will feature five power pop, AOR, heavy metal and new wave songs from the seventies and eighties, most of it curated from radio compilation vinyl records that aren’t available on any streaming service.

I met Chris as I began buying records in the 00s after a twenty year hiatus. He and his business partner Pete owned a record store called Platterpuss and they would host warehouse sales from time to time. I dipped my toes back into vinyl, making purchases every six months or so. My, how times have changed! Just yesterday I perused by record purchases in 2022, and…well…my habit has grown exponentially. Don’t tell my wife.

But hey, if anyone has a serious problem with vinyl, it’s my podcast partner Christopher Grey. I’m not going to get into numbers here, but let's just say his basement is currently unavailable for a makeover.

Chris and Pete’s record store is now called Cheap Kiss Records, a regular stop on my record shopping rotation in nearby Villa Park, Illinois (as well as online). After accumulating many radio station compilation records over the years - most of which have that one “gem” of a tune that never got properly recognized - Chris decided that it was high time to share his fruits of his labor with the rock and roll world. I hopped on the bandwagon and here we are, ready to rock the planet with forgotten music.

Our introductory episode is complete (and should be available shortly on your favorite podcast app), and in short order we’ll record our first proper episode. More soon…

The Stupidity of the Recording Industry

Before I get started, allow me to note that the podcaster Brian J. Kramp who I discuss below is also the author of the upcoming book, This Band Has No Past: How Cheap Trick Became Cheap Trick, available on September 6, 2022 in paperback from bookstores everywhere, including Bookshop.org, Barnes and Noble, and other on-line bookstores. You can pre-order your copy now. I will be covering this book in more detail once it’s released.

Okay, let’s begin.

The Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) is a trade organization that represents the recording industry. It states on its website that it “advocates for recorded music and the people and companies that create it.” Allow me to put a spotlight on a situation where the RIAA practices something very different from its stated intent.

Enter Brian J. Kramp of Wisconsin, a self-described music obsessive who’s been hosting the terrific music blog Rock and/or Roll since 2015, with over 300 episodes. Brian is the kind of fan the record industry wants, or should want: someone who’s into music exponentially more that the average person. He buys tons of music, owns tons of albums, and he’s been spreading the message of music for years, covering metal, AOR, power pop, classic rock, alt country – you name it, this guy has it, often illuminating listeners about hidden gems by unknown bands whose music might be challenging to find. (Kramp’s recent podcast on AOR included bands like Under Fire, Razor Sharp, Fake ID and Babe Blu. All new to me!).

In short, Brian offers the record industry what it should be coveting: free advertising and unbridled enthusiasm for recorded music. Instead, in the summer of 2020, Brian received an email from Podbean that began:

"Dear Podcaster, we have been notified that your podcast content contains infringing content. Please check all your episodes and delete all copyrighted material. Please notice that repeat violation of copyrights will cause your account to be suspended. We've blocked your podcast site from public view. Please remove all infringing content and update us when this is done." 

Podbean was of course doing what they had to do. The real bully behind the letter was none other than the RIAA.

In August of 2020, Brian, obviously frustrated and bewildered and uncertain of what to do next, stated in his podcast: "What the RIAA is too dense to realize is that they're dealing with their best customers here. I have been buying music obsessively for more than 30 years. I have purchased exponentially more music than the average person, obviously, and the same goes for the kind of person who listens to these podcasts. So we are their best customers and they're treating us like the enemy.”

Brian then referenced a question that he had posted on his Facebook page: "Who's bought music because of the podcast?" After posting, it garnered a flood of positive responses, and Brian concluded that his podcast had exposed people to music that they “didn't even know about. Wouldn't that be exactly what the RIAA would want? It’s a free commercial for them.” Regarding his podcast, he added, “I’ve never made a penny off of it. The entire podcast is about loving music.”

So what’s behind all of this? Why does the industry actively inhibit this type of music endeavor when the result is music fans obsessing over music and seeking out music that they hadn’t heard before? If the RIAA’s objective is in fact to represent “people and companies” that create recorded music, aren’t they doing these people and companies a disservice?

If I were a recording artist who’s music was previously featured on “Rock and/or Roll,” I would welcome the advertising and I would wonder why the RIAA is making it harder for people to hear my music. But as I stated a few weeks ago in my last blog, the music industry isn’t necessarily in the business of promoting new music or lesser-known older music when it’s more lucrative to promote established catalogs of music at a fraction of the cost. After all, record companies have already spent hundreds of millions of dollars for these catalogs; now they need to recoup their investments.

Consider this: yesterday I saw a preview for the upcoming Disney/Pixar movie, Lightyear, and it featured the David Bowie song, “Starman.” It’s a fine tune, but whereas Pixar hired Randy Newman to compose new music for the original Toy Story back in 1995, spawning the gem, “You’ve Got a Friend In Me,” the new movie is promoting a 50-year old song, in this case “Starman,” owned by Warner Chappell Music, the publishing arm of Warner Music Group, which is owned by Access Industries.

Warner Music is one of the big three recording companies, along with Sony Music Entertainment and Universal Music Group. In short, these three music behemoth’s carry a lot of weight, and I suspect they’re willing to twist a few arms to get their high-priced music acquisitions featured on major motion pictures. I think the days of a modern songwriter being asked to compose three original tracks for a large, animated film are over. If there are exceptions – and I hope there are – I bet it’s for films with smaller budgets.

So where does that leave Brian Kramp and “Rock and/or Roll”?  Well, there is a happy ending to all of this, albeit one that grew out of frustration. As I already mentioned, Brian took the hiatus after 2020 to complete his book on Cheap Trick, a labor of love that he’d started in 2017. Also importantly, Brian began to post podcasts again two months ago after signing on with the Pantheon network and agreeing to “fade out” music per Pantheon’s policy. In the age of music streaming, why the hell it matters if a podcaster plays an entire song or fades it out is a question for the ages. Somehow the distinction is critical for the RIAA’s mission of “advocating” for recorded music. Go figure.

How else will Brian’s podcast change? It remains to be seen, but Brian wrote to me that he would likely avoid big-named artists and “stick to the original spirit of the podcast: rare and obscure music.” Brian is also reediting a number of his older podcasts and rereleasing them without complete songs.

In the meantime, new artist without large followings and more obscure older artists must face the facts: the RIAA doesn’t care about them or their music, and they care even less about their fans. What they do care about is placing songs of big-named artists with highly-priced catalogs in as many commercials, movies, TV shows and video games as possible.

Get used to it, folks. You’ll be hearing David Bowie ad nauseam for the next century.