50 / CHRONICLESngland), has been preoccupied with thenoddly modern—in their irrationalitynand amorality—Lewis Carroll Alicenstories. Yet Del Tredici seems to benwanting to grow away from the surrealisticnAlice material. In Memory of anSummer Day, composed in 1980, hasnlittle to do with Carroll’s weird alternatenuniverses and more with hisntouching love for the real Alice. Thencentral episode, Triumphant Alice, isnsupposed to be an unwritten “Wonderland”nstory, but is in fact a grandnheroic march worthy of Raff or RichardnStrauss. Del Tredici is on the rightntrack, but he is still groping: His obsessionnwith Alice is a little ridiculous in anman approaching 50.nOn the other hand, John Adams,nnot yet 40, seems much more sure ofnhis ethical position. Adams can saynwith perfect forthrightness and convictionn(on the album cover of the recordingnof his 1985 orchestral work Harmonielehre):n”I find composing to be anjourney through the underworld. Andnthe reason I often have heroic endingsnin my pieces … is that I’m totallynamazed to have emerged from thentunnel out into the light. The act ofncomposing is the creation of the lightnfor me—it really is like a biblicalntrial.” This is a strange thing for anmodern composer to say. And what isneven stranger is that this impassionedndescription of the creation of his musicnis matched by the remarkable scorenitself; Harmonielehre is a direct andnunabashedly moving musical achievement.nTo those who understand thenrelation of Romantic music to humannlife, the “New Romanticism” is neithernnew nor unexpected. Its existencensimply proves that our species is notnquite ready to call it quits.nKyle Rothweiler is a free-lance writernand composer currently working on ansymphony, The Vigilantes ofnMontana.nPOP CULTUREnRock Around thenBanknby Gary S. VasilashnNow that ain’t workin’nthat’s the way you do itnYou play the guitar on thenMTVnThat ain’t workin’nthat’s the way you do itnMoney for nothin’ and yournchicks for freen(©1985 Chariscourt Ltd./Adm.nAlmo Music)nDire Straits'”Money for Nothing”nironically sums up the popular athtudentoward the music business. After all,nperforming on stage for an hour or twona night does not seem all that tough.nAnd we all know that little “work” goesnon in recording studios. Yet groups likenMotley Criie have financial portfoliosnthat the rest of us can only read aboutnin Money magazine case studies.nReaders of Tarnished Gold: The RecordnIndustry Revisited by R. SergenDenisoff, assisted by William Schurkn(Transaction Books; New Brunswick,nNJ), will have a different opinion ofnmaking it in the music industry, atnleast in the pop/rock segment, whichnrepresents more than 50 percent of thenmarket. First, “Talent is commonlyndefined as a natural or acquired abilitynor as a natural endowment of ability ofnsuperior quality. This common andnpopular definition does not totallynapply in the music industry. Talent isnthe commodity that has economic potential.”nIn many cases, that potentialnmay not be realized by the recordingnartist. (And simply being recorded isnno mean feat: the groups Boston,nHeart, and The Police, all of whichnhave tremendous banking power, startednout with vanity records.)nA record can sell 100,000 units, thenrecord company can make $88,000,nnnand when all expenses are accountednfor, the recording artist can owe thencompany $31,200. You can bet thatnmore than one group wishes it hadnspent less time in the studio or made anless-elaborate video, since these costsnultimately come out of this group’sncoffers.nThe record companies should notnbe thought of as money-grubbingnleeches that suck the already anemicnbodies of rock musicians. The fact isnthis: “Records, artists, and even recordncompanies rise and fall strictly accordingnto the bottom-line, profit-loss principle.”nThe record companies mustnprovide a large — and expensive —nupport structure for recordings, whichnranges from getting music on blacknvinyl, compact disc and tape, to developingnpublicity, bringing the productnto market, and a myriad of other activities.nAnd don’t overlook the need tondiscover or develop bankable talentnthat can replace or support old talent.nImagine what it would have been likento be working at Capitol Records whennThe Beaties announced the end.nThen there are the radio stations,nwhich continue to play the leadingnrole. Commercial radio stations areninterested in selling commercial time.nSponsors are only interested in buyingnmarket. The playlist that the radionprogram director develops determinesnwho will be listening. And if pop/rocknradio stations around the country allnsound the same, it is because thenprogram directors know what formulasnsell. Similarly, record stores are onlyninterested in stocking products thatnwill move out the door quickly. Andnthat is determined by what’s beingnplayed on the radio, which is determinednby what the companies arenoffering. It’s a closed loop. What aboutnthe recording artist? He must worknhard—and be lucky.nThe music industry is just that: annindustry. The groups can be thoughtnof as small businesses. And the failurenrate of small businesses in general isnprobably far less than the failure ofnrock enterprises. As Tarnished Goldnconvincingly details and explains,nthere’s no free lunch—and no moneynfor nothing.nGary Vasilash is senior editor of Productionnmagazine.n