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One by one, piece by piece: the making of a rock band in the 21st century

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One by one, piece by piece: the making of a rock band in the 21st century

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Content 1
ONE BY ONE, PIECE BY PIECE: THE MAKING OF A ROCK BAND
IN THE 21
ST
CENTURY
by
Daniel Matthew Kohn
________________________________________________________________________
A Professional Project Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
MASTER OF ARTS
(PRINT JOURNALISM)
May 2010
Copyright 2010 Daniel Matthew Kohn
2
Table of Contents
Abstract iii
One By One, Piece By Piece: The Making of a Rock Band
in the 21
st
Century 1
3
Abstract
Over the past decade, the music industry has changed dramatically. The days of
nurturing and developing bands are gone. Labels are looking to make a quick buck
without focusing on long-term success. It is harder than ever for a new band to succeed
unless it has such unique presence that is impossible to ignore.
Saint Motel is one of these bands. Due to its unique stage show, infectious energy
and catchy songs, this Los Angeles-based quartet is an example of how the music
industry has changed and is a model of how to succeed as a rock band in the 21
st
century.
1
One By One, Piece By Piece: The Making of a Rock Band in the 21
st
Century
“That’s a damn long line out there, “ said Saint Motel lead singer A.J. Jackson to his band
mates as he looks at the people in line wrapped around The Roxy on Sunset.
Close to showtime, The Roxy, which holds 625 people, was almost at full capacity.
Over the past two years, Saint Motel has evolved from playing bars in front of three
people to some of the biggest venues in Los Angeles. The group has built a strong
following with its high-energy stage performance combined with a strong pop sensibility.
The band, watching from their second floor dressing room window, was excited about
playing to its largest crowd yet, but was not flustered. The members were going through
its usual pre-gig routine: Jackson and lead guitarist Aaron Sharp glance over the set list,
scribbling changes, while bassist Dak Jones sits calmly on a plush couch smoking a
Marlboro Red. Drummer Greg Erwin is antsy, jumping up and down, ready to go.
Jackson heads down the creaky stairwell looks out into the crowd and notices a sea of
faces, none recognizable.
Tonight’s theme is a Zombie Prom. In accordance, the majority of the audience has
painted faces and sport fake blood.
2
At 12:30 a.m., the band heads down to the stage to greet the raucous crowd. Jackson and
Sharp strap on their guitars, Erwin gets behind the drums, and the band launches into a
tune suitable for the evening: a cover of the obscure Black Sabbath song “Children of the
Grave.” Even though the crowd isn’t familiar with the track, as soon as the first guitar
riff is played, they howl with approval.
Saint Motel’s sound is a hodge-podge mix of Velvet Underground’s moody cool and
Tom Petty’s rave-up pop, its audience lacks exposure to Sabbath’s black-light driven
doom and gloom.
Over the next 45 minutes, the classic game of push and pull begins that fuels each and
every memorable performance. As the fans become more frantic, Saint Motel returns the
favor with a stronger sense of urgency.
Songs like “Eat Your Heart Out” and “Dear Dictator” rise and fall with sharp guitars,
abusive bass lines and drums that knock so hard that the group demands attention by
physically pounding those in attendance in the chest. Bottom-line: Saint Motel is on
tonight and everyone knows it.
3
By the time they launch into the encore, “Butch” a song that has been aired on KROQ
and KCRW in Los Angeles, the crowd’s fever has spilled over onto the stage like a
friendlier version of the Rodney King riots.
When the chorus of “Oh no there she goes/dressed up in daddy’s clothes,” sails through
the venue, the reckless abandon of those who plucked down their money to participate in
what could very well be the future of rock and roll continuously threaten to end the song
pre-maturely.
After the song ends and crowd dissipates, Saint Motel ascends upstairs to its dressing
room. Their tuxedo shirts are drenched in fake blood and sweat. The band members look
at each other in silence, with an unspoken message: what the fuck just happened?
For a band like Saint Motel, differentiating itself can be challenging, if not daunting.
Using their backgrounds in film, Jackson and Sharp came up with the idea to make each
local show an event, based on movie genres and obscure events. By having themed
events, Saint Motel concerts feel more like parties than a rock show. Fans are
encouraged to dress up and take part in each show’s theme and are as diverse as the
band’s hometown. The quartet performs in front of a large screen shows clips from their
favorite films consistent with the night’s theme. Some of the band’s past themes include
Erotica, Experimental, Moustaches and Future Fathers.
4
“If we make each show a party or an event, it will entice more people to come,” said
Jackson.
But there weren’t always friendly mobs waiting for the quartet. In fact, if not for Jackson
and Sharp’s perseverance, there would be no Saint Motel.
A.J. Jackson’s love affair with playing music started when he was in second grade. Born
and raised in the southern suburbs of Minneapolis, Jackson and his siblings were
encouraged by their parents to be artistic. When he was in second grade, Jackson’s
parents forced him to take piano lessons and he agreed, grudgingly.
“I didn’t like sitting on that stool and listening to the old bag,” said Jackson, referring to
the piano teacher. “At that age, nobody likes to be forced to do things, especially playing
piano.”
Almost out of spite, Jackson started playing saxophone. It wasn’t until his seventh grade
talent show when as the lead saxophonist of a seven-piece ska cover band that he finally
enjoyed music. As he and his band mates took to the stage of the middle school
auditorium, he saw hundreds of his classmates’ faces staring at him.
5
“I really enjoyed people looking at me, I wanted to rock their socks off, even though I
just a saxophone player,” he recalled. “After I got off stage that day I knew I wanted to
be in a band and write and play music in front of people.”
That’s when Jackson played a guitar for the first time. The parents, who made him play
music against his will, also influenced him. His father had played bass in a New Wave
band around the Minneapolis area. With his father’s bass no longer in use, Jackson used
the instrument to start a band with three friends.
“My father had no formal training when he started playing, so that’s why I’m sure he and
my mother forced me to take piano,” he said. “But his influences on the bass transferred
to me. He was into people like Jim Carroll, Blondie, Lou Reed and the Talking Heads.”
In addition to those bands, Jackson listened to The Pixies and Ween. “I just liked the
way they sounded, and their sensibility about how to create their own image, yet
remained unique and true to themselves,” he said.
When he was in eleventh grade, Jackson formed a second band, this time as the bassist.
Approaching the band’s first gig, his budding outfit faced a quandary: it didn’t have a
singer. Although he didn’t have any experience, Jackson decided to give singing a
chance.
6
“None of us knew what we were doing, so I figured it was worth a shot,” Jackson said,
smiling. “I figured I might as well try it out then so I knew whether or not I could do it.”
With some local success under his belt, Jackson knew it was time to leave Minnesota. He
had only one part of the country in mind: Southern California.
“As I tediously filled out those forms, I knew that I had to be in Southern California if I
was going to play in a band,” said Jackson. “I wanted to be in California because I knew
that’s where music was at. I just knew it was the place to be.”
The lure of the music business and the famed Sunset Strip also swayed Jackson, along
with the nice weather and of course, attractive co-eds.
In August 2002, Jackson packed up his Honda CRV, left Minnesota and headed to
Chapman University in Orange, Calif. Almost immediately, he sought fellow students
with whom he could form a band.
Blessed with good features and a booming voice, Jackson had two of the most important
prerequisites to be the front man of a rock band. “I never thought of it that way,” said
Jackson. “I just like to sing and play the guitar, so I guess it just fit.”
7
Jackson formed CD Flux with three friends, but there was one problem: they didn’t have
a lead guitarist. Although he knew how to play guitar, Jackson understood he was a
novice and sought to find a guitarist more accomplished than he was. The odyssey led
him to Aaron Sharp.
“Every person I asked said you need to talk to Aaron Sharp,” said Jackson. “So I did.
But he wasn’t an easy person to find.” Jackson later learned why Sharp was hard to find:
he was in Spain for the semester.
On a spring evening in 2005, Jackson finally met Sharp, a tall, shaggy-haired guitar
player who always wore his signature The Who T-shirt. As the two sat across from each
other in the basement of the Henley dorm, Jackson persuaded Sharp to join his band, but
it wasn’t easy.
“There was a lot of tension that day,” recalled Jackson. “But I convinced him that we
were serious about being in a band and we were going to practice on a schedule and play
gigs.”
Sharp recalled the events of that night differently. “When A.J. met with me, I wanted to
make sure he was serious about making this thing work. I didn’t want to join a new band
and be stuck in the old habits of the other groups I was in.”
8
Since he was 14, Aaron Sharp has played guitar. A strict disciplinarian, Sharp didn’t want
to play in a band unless its member cared about music to the same degree he did.
“I didn’t want to join a band if wasn’t going anywhere,” he recalled. “But I saw A.J.’s
potential as a songwriter, even if he didn’t at the time. So that alone, along with his
pledges to practice several times a week and playing gigs a few times a month, was
enough of a reason to give the band a chance.”
To Sharp, being disciplined doesn’t mean he isn’t having fun. “Just because I like to get
things done and want our band to be great, it doesn’t mean I’m a tightass,” explained
Sharp, sporting a mischievous grin. “I want to play the best I can, so if that means being
disciplined, then so be it.”
Born and raised in the San Fernando Valley, Sharp, like Jackson, came from a family
with a musical background. His mother was a pianist and his grandfather played classical
guitar and had studied with the acclaimed classical guitarist Frederick Noad. His uncle,
though not a musician, was an avid music listener. As he started to listen to rock music,
Sharp’s favorite artists were David Bowie, Mick Ronson, King Crimson, ELP and Lou
Reed, but it was one album his uncle introduced him to that had a lasting influence on his
guitar playing.
9
“He (my uncle) looked at me and I asked me if I knew who The Who were,” recalled
Sharp. “I, being 14, had no clue. So he said to me ‘I’m going to give you this record
called Who’s Next.’” Several days later, after he came home from school, Sharp saw an
album resting on top of his comforter. A Post-It note attached asserted, ‘This album will
change your life.’
“I never heard something so melodic and powerful in my life,” said Sharp. “’Won’t Get
Fooled Again’ man, what a powerful song! Everything about that song was incredible. It
made me pick up a guitar and not put it down until I came up with something as good.”
Spending his sophomore year in Spain studying abroad, Sharp returned to Chapman
reinvigorated and wanted to join a band. He didn’t know it at the time, but the band
seeking his services was one he had seen in an impromptu gig on campus.
“I saw CD Flux perform in a cafeteria,” said Sharp. “I didn’t think they were all that
impressive, but I was drawn to the magnetic persona of their lead singer, which it turned
out was A.J. I was surprised to find out he was the one I was meeting with.”
When they left Henley that evening, Jackson and Sharp each agreed they wouldn’t stop
playing music until they became stars. It was the common thread between the two
musicians.
10
Since they were only juniors in college, the band members had other interests, such as
film, girls and traveling. Sharp was frustrated with the band’s lack of progress. It got to
the point where he debated whether or not to quit.
“We weren’t really doing a lot,” said Sharp. “We were practicing like we said we would,
but the music coming out of us wasn’t quality.” And his disappointment and frustration
showed in his songwriting. “I wasn’t coming up with anything good, and I guess I’m to
blame. But the situation was unproductive and got me down.”
Not too long after, CD Flux dissolved and Jackson and Sharp formed another band,
Turkish Rocket. With new members, the group gigged throughout Orange County, but
not with the cohesion or professionalism Jackson and Sharp wanted or sought. While
frustrated with the band, Jackson and Sharp had another thing in common: both were film
majors. As school continued, the duo got to know one another better when they realized
they were in the same film classes. Once they recognized they had more in common than
film and music, the pair became better friends and more comfortable around each other.
“I’m much more extroverted than A.J. in expressing what I think should be done,” Sharp
said. “Which is a good thing considering sometimes I’m impatient and can be
opinionated.”
11
Jackson and Sharp wanted to take what they learned in their film class and apply it to
their stage performance. They wanted to add an element of performance art to their
concerts.
“We knew it would be unique to incorporate some elements of our other love, film, into
Turkish Rocket,” Jackson recalled. “Though we weren’t able to do as successfully as we
wanted to, it laid the groundwork for what would happen in the future.”
Months had gone by and the band hadn’t made the progress they had anticipated. Hardly
any songs were written and the group was on the verge of splitting up. But, in the middle
of a practice session, Jackson and Sharp had a creative breakthrough. Standing in a
hallway during a cigarette break, Sharp heard Jackson playing a guitar riff he thought
sounded catchy. He stomped out his cigarette and quickly headed back into their practice
space. The duo combined to write “Pity Party,” and at last, they realized they were onto
something.
“When I first heard A.J.’s riffs, I knew there was a song there,” said Sharp. “It was too
good and too catchy that I had to run in during a smoke break, which never happens, and
start writing that second.”
After the impromptu writing session, “Pity Party” progressed from a riff into a full-
fledged song, Jackson and Sharp realized they could write music together and understood
12
they were the heart of the band. Until this point, the songwriting was a democratic
process with all five members contributing. Though they never said it, both Jackson and
Sharp knew democracy wasn’t getting them anywhere. With “Pity Party,” they realized
they were onto something.
“The way it works is the two of just sitting down in a space and bouncing ideas off each
other,” said Jackson.
“Sometimes, I’ll grab my guitar, start playing some chords and A.J. will be like, ‘hey
that’s cool, play it again,’ and he’ll start writing down some lyrics, and we have
something,” explained Sharp. “Sometimes it’s the other way around, like with “Pity
Party.”
Though Jackson and Sharp were making great strides as songwriters, Turkish Rocket was
unraveling. When they graduated from Chapman in the spring of 2006, the band had
split up. Only Jackson and Sharp wanted to continue making music.
Despite the creative breakthrough, Turkish Rocket broke up. Despite this setback,
Jackson and Sharp soldiered on with their quest to become rock stars. Although they had
a drummer, albeit an unreliable one, they frustradedly looked for a bass player. After a
practice session at their facility in Orange, they considered calling it quits
13
In the summer of 2007, tired, frustrated and in search of a good meal, the duo drove to
Sushi Sho in Costa Mesa. There was not a free table. So Jackson and Sharp went to the
only empty seats at the sushi bar. Between ahi and tuna rolls, the duo discussed their
futures, their film aspirations perhaps and more importantly, figuring out a way to save
their band.
“We were just venting, trying to figure things out,” said Jackson. “We wanted to keep
the band going, but at the same time, we knew we needed to have people as dedicated as
we were to it if were going to get where we wanted to be.”
The short, slender sushi chef slicing the tuna behind the counter overheard them.
“I thought, I know how to play and it sounds like I’m exactly what they are looking for,”
said Dak Jones, a Bangkok, Thailand native, and the sushi chef who had recently moved
to California. Why not give it a shot and ask them if I could audition?”
Just as they were about to pay the bill, Jones nervously approached Jackson, told him that
he played bass and asked if he could come in for an audition.
Could this sushi chef be the elusive bass player or was it just another dead-end? Without
thinking, a startled Jackson gave Jones his phone number, not expecting him to call. A
14
week later, Jones called. After a few jam sessions, Jones became the budding outfit’s
bassist.
Jones’ path from Bangkok to Los Angeles has been the one less traveled. Born Chonrak
Lerdamornpong, his friends nicknamed him name “Dak” after the release of the film
“Dracula” in Thailand. There, the movie’s translation was “Dakula” and since he had
pointy incisors like fangs, his friends called him Dak, which he initially resented, but
eventually accepted. After he joined the band, Dak was given the surname Jones by
Jackson and Dak Jones became his moniker.
Like Sharp, Jones’ mother was a pianist and like Jackson, he too was forced to take piano
lessons at a young age. Bored with the piano, Jones taught himself to play guitar in
junior high school.
Jones switched to bass when he was a teenager. After playing in a few garage bands, he
joined a Britpop outfit called The Eyeliner. The band had performed only a few gigs
before they received major label interest in Thailand. With the help of its potential label,
The Eyeliner opened a string of shows with the biggest band in the country, Carabao.
Unable to capitalize on the success of these gigs, The Eyeliner failed to sign with the
label. Shortly thereafter, the lead guitarist left the group and the band broke up. Dak
decided to leave music behind to move to Southern California and to attend California
State University at Northridge in order to pursue his other interest: photography.
15
“Since I always wanted to move to California, it seemed right,” Jones explained as he
smoked a Marlboro red. “I didn’t think I would join a band again after the way The
Eyeliner broke down. It was such a hard thing to deal with. The fighting and seeing the
work go nowhere, just frustrating.”
Jones answered an ad in LA Weekly for a position as a sushi chef in Costa Mesa. He
applied and within a week, he was learning how to cut raw fish. After several weeks on
the job, Jones was still learning his craft when Jackson and Sharp turned up.
“They kept talking and talking about music and needing a bassist, so I figured why not
ask them if I could play?” commented Jones.
Jackson and Sharp had no inkling that the soft-spoken sushi chef would provide the
punchy bass line and Zen-like demeanor that the band desperately needed.
“He walked into the practice room and just took over,” exclaimed Jackson as he raised
his arms with excitement.
They still needed a drummer, someone who was a better fit for the band. Desperately,
the band turned to craigslist. After a several futile auditions, Jackson, Sharp and Jones
picked the best of the lot. It would be a temporary fix.
16
Finally, after the band’s first gig in Los Angeles in late 2007, a bold move by a stranger
finally landed the trio its permanent drummer.
The venue was dark and dingy, a typical Los Angeles bar filled with bands trying to
make it. The band just finished its gig when a guy sporting a 311 t-shirt, carpenter jeans
and features similar to “American Pie” character Steve Stifler, approached them.
Greg Erwin was new to Los Angeles. Arriving from Sacramento, Erwin was looking to
join a band that he liked and felt had a future. On this night, he found both.
After the show, as the band was hustling to move its equipment off stage, Erwin went up
to the band to tell them how much he dug their sound.
“He was just so excited (about the music),” Sharp recalled. “He was ready to play right
then and there.”
“I thought they were awesome and I wanted to at least get a tryout because I knew my
style (of drumming) would fit in with them,” Erwin later explained.
17
Even from an early age, music was in Erwin’s blood. His family was filled musicians
who played many instruments. He would tap along to music on anything he could, to the
point where he started to irritate his parents.
When he was 12, after begging and pleading to his parents, Erwin got his first drum kit.
Aware their current drummer wasn’t committed for the long haul, they invited the
enthusiastic Erwin to audition. Struck by his enthusiasm, the three band members asked
Erwin to join. Before they could finish the offer, Erwin jumped at the opportunity, quite
literally.
“He was so pumped that he jumped up and hugged us,” Sharp remembered. “It was nice
to see the group finally coming together.”
The next order of business for the group was to come up with a band name. “We played
with a number of names, mixing and matching,” said Jackson. “We were sitting in our
new practice space in downtown L.A. literally just throwing nouns, verbs and adjectives
out there.” Finally, someone blurted Saint Motel. “We looked at each other and nodded.
That was it: Saint Motel.”
With Erwin on drums, the band started to play gigs. They played all over Southern
California including in Los Angeles, Hermosa Beach, Orange, Anaheim and Costa Mesa.
18
Their goals were modest: to add a few new fans each night so they could return to that
venue and to see some familiar faces who knew their music.
Flush with its initial success, Saint Motel decided to record a demo CD. A strong demo
might attract the interest of a label or even secure a manager in order to take away some
of the pressure of handling the band’s business as well as song writing.
After a couple of recording sessions in the Valley, the band had recorded “Pity Party,”
“Dear Dictator,” “Do Everything Now,” and “Hold Me Down.” Once satisfied with the
recordings and Saint Motel sent copies of the demo to venues throughout Los Angeles,
hoping to get a gig at one of the cities more acclaimed venues.
The band got its break in August 2008. Saint Motel played a showcase at the Viper
Room, one of the bars in Los Angeles where agents lurk to sign new bands. The room
was dark, and the overpriced booze flowing. Saint Motel caught the ear of one manager.
“I was there with a buddy of mine catching one of the earlier bands,” said Russell Rubin.
“After the band we wanted to see finished, I wanted to go home, since I was dead tired.
But as fate would have it, he made me stay for another beer and well, the next band on
was Saint Motel and they blew me away.”
19
At the time, Rubin was working for Mad Mac Entertainment, a management firm in
Beverly Hills that managed artists such as Linkin Park, Enrique Iglesias, Slash and The
All-American Rejects. Rubin was working with Chester French; an act signed to
producer Pharrell Williams’ Star Trak label.
.
When he saw Saint Motel’s infectious yet commanding energy floor the normally snotty
Viper Room crowd, Rubin knew immediately he would lose potential superstars if he did
not add the group to his roster.
“As I saw them play that night, I knew they were onto something,” Rubin explained. “I
went to a few more shows after that and I was convinced by their performance and I
knew I had to manage them.”
After seeing the band, Rubin played the band’s demo CD and was impressed anew.
“They sounded so fresh, yet so aware of what was going on music,” said Rubin. “Their
self-awareness is what made them different than anyone I’d had heard, and honestly, I
really enjoyed the music.”
The band enjoys having Rubin as its manager as much as he enjoys their music. He’s
become the band’s unofficial fifth member and a man the band puts its trust in.
20
“He believes in us and is willing to do whatever it takes for us to succeed,” said Sharp.
“You can’t ask for much more in a manager.”
Now that they had an enthusiastic manager, Saint Motel was finally on the path Jackson
and Sharp envisioned when they first collaborated. In the spring of 2009, the band was
ready record its debut EP. At the same studio where they recorded their demo, the group
cranked out six songs, including three revised versions from the demo.
The band has since played shows in some of the most unconventional of places, including
abandoned warehouse spaces and on a moving U-Haul truck. “We like to mix it up,” said
Jackson wryly. “It keeps people on their toes and makes it challenging, yet fun for us at
the same time.”
In only two years, Saint Motel has grown from playing to three people in a dive bar to
selling out the The Roxy on Sunset. Jackson and Sharp have overcome a mountain of
obstacles that would have persuaded others to leave their musical ambitions behind. For
them, watching fans react so passionately is one of the most satisfying things about Saint
Motel.
“It’s really cool seeing people not only into the music, but going all out in costume,” said
Jackson. “It puts more pressure on us to play a great show and its great to see really
feeling like they are a part of the show.”
21
Saint Motel is fortunate to have some heavy hitters in its corner, like L.A.’s influential
KROQ rock station. By playing the band’s music, KROQ has been instrumental in
helping them develop a larger audience. After the release of their debut EP, ForPlay, in
2009, the band was interviewed on Kat Corbett’s Locals Only radio program. Corbett
added the EP to her playlist. She is a firm believer that Saint Motel has what it takes to
be successful.
“The songs are peppy but interesting and for the most part radio friendly,” said Corbett.
“From my perspective there are two kinds of great records: radio records and non-radio
records. Both are great but only one is going to get spins on air. Radio songs are those
songs full of hooks and instantly stick in your head. A lot of Saint Motel's songs have
these hooks but they are also interesting–that's a hard combo to come by.”
She also said that the band’s stage performance is what separates them from other groups
in their genre.
As Corbett stated, Saint Motel’s background in film has been to its benefit. The band
created six music videos to go with each song on ForPlay. Despite shooting on a limited
budget, the videos have been popular, receiving thousands of views on YouTube.
22
The video for “To My Enemies” is the most popular. Shot in Orange, the video has a
quirky murder mystery theme, with an added twist at the end. The band used its
resources at Chapman to make a video that would have cost tens of thousands of dollars,
but they made it at a fraction of the price.
“There are lots of great bands out there but Saint Motel has a big advantage because of
their visual skills,” continued Corbett. “They are very in tune with how they want to
present themselves. This combination of the music with the visual elements adds a whole
new dimension to their live shows. Now, I'm not saying that bands have to go to film
school, this is simply what makes Saint Motel unique.”
Since the release of ForPlay Saint Motel’s profile has grown tenfold. They’ve toured
the country, played at festivals such at CMJ and South By Southwest and are about to
tour with the British band, Band Of Skulls.
Although they have made great strides, the band remains level headed about its goals for
2010.
“We just want to keep writing songs that people like,” said Sharp. “If we can do that,
while staying true to ourselves, then we’ll be alright.”
23
Though their collective calendars are hectic, the band keeps the same disciplined
schedule that Sharp demanded when he agreed to join forces with Jackson at Chapman.
Every Friday night, the band still gets together at 8:30 p.m. at its practice facility in the
Warehouse District just east of downtown Los Angeles. For an hour and a half, they
work on new songs or run through some songs for an upcoming gig.
The room is dark and small, no larger than a small studio apartment. You can hear the
sounds of other bands playing their hearts out, trying to get to where Saint Motel is
headed.
But after an hour and a half of smoking a few cigarettes, downing a few beers and
working on a new song, Saint Motel is done for the night. Relieved, they descend upon a
ragged couch, while A.J. heads to the dry erase board to chart out the new few weeks.
“Yeah its cool that so many people are digging our stuff,” said Sharp confidently, as
Jackson sits to his left. “But we can’t get too cocky, we aren’t rock stars in fact, it’s just
begun.”
“It’s still about getting one new fan a night,” Jackson elaborated. “If we are able to
connect with one new person a night, then our band is going to be successful.”
24

Abstract (if available)

Abstract Over the past decade, the music industry has changed dramatically. The days of nurturing and developing bands are gone. Labels are looking to make a quick buck without focusing on long-term success. It is harder than ever for a new band to succeed unless it has such unique presence that is impossible to ignore.

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Year two study of a community, school, and university partnership for urban school transformation in providing pathways to post secondary opportunities for urban youth in the 21st century

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Preparing our nation’s youth for success in the 21st century: a case study on the implementation of globalization in educational practices and curriculum

Asset Metadata

Creator Kohn, Daniel Matthew (author)

Core Title One by one, piece by piece: the making of a rock band in the 21st century

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

School Annenberg School for Communication

Degree Master of Arts

Degree Program Journalism (Print Journalism)

Publication Date 05/10/2010

Defense Date 04/01/2010

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag Chapman,indie-music,Los Angeles,music,OAI-PMH Harvest,Rock,Saint Motel

Place Name California (states), Los Angeles (city or populated place)

Language English

Advisor Kotler, Jonathan (committee chair), Cray, Edward (committee member), Durbin, Daniel (committee member)

Creator Email danielko@usc.edu,dmkohn2002@gmail.com

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-m3065

Unique identifier UC1282133

Identifier etd-Kohn-3677 (filename),usctheses-m40 (legacy collection record id),usctheses-c127-330870 (legacy record id),usctheses-m3065 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier etd-Kohn-3677.pdf

Dmrecord 330870

Document Type Project

Rights Kohn, Daniel Matthew

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Repository Name Libraries, University of Southern California

Repository Location Los Angeles, California

Repository Email cisadmin@lib.usc.edu