A remarkable thing happened about two weeks ago, something that can’t be taken lightly, and shouldn’t be allowed to pass by your radar unnoticed. Grey Tuesday, as was dubbed February 24, was an effort by 200-plus websites, united by the practice of electronic civil disobedience and the hope that this action could bring about real changes. It was a day that directly opposed every idea the RIAA, who almost a year ago had the search engine Phynd here at RPI shut down, has been forcing on every person willing to purchase and listen to pressed music. It brought thousands together to protest in the name of fair-use policies, music copyright law, and creative freedom.
Last Tuesday, those sites hosted a copy of the DJ Danger Mouse’s album “The Grey Album,” which takes the lyrics of the Jay-Z album “The Black Album,” and puts them to samples and beats extracted from The Beatles’ “The White Album.” This combination proved to be something extraordinary, and I hope everyone gets and listens to it sometime.
Far from any album review, however, Danger Mouse has brought about mass legal issues with his remix. Many revolve around EMI’s—one of the music industry’s five biggest labels—control over the boys from Liverpool’s recordings, the DJ’s use of this work in his samples, and EMI’s cease & desist notice they sent to the DJ. After sites such as Downhill Battle.org caught wind of the DJ’s compliance with EMI’s request, they became infuriated, calling the action “censorship,” and seeking to demonstrate their reluctance to further tolerate any such action.
Thus was born Grey Tuesday, where each of the sites listed at GreyTuesday.org hosted a copy of Danger Mouse’s album as a free download, and to publicize the event in order to distribute as many copies of the recordings as possible. Mission accomplished. Many sites reported hundreds or thousands of downloads, galvanizing the album in a matter of hours, and making many suits at EMI hot under their collars, especially since, up to the day before, EMI’s legal teams had sent cease & desist orders to all of these websites. Unlike the artist Danger Mouse, they did not comply.
In the wake of this event rests comfortably an idea which challenges both traditional and online music distribution methods, and sheds light on a problem that seems to be spinning out of control: copyright laws applied to works of art. EMI may not technically have control over the Beatles’ samples, as opposed to full reproduction of the songs. Also, fair-use policies might deem legal the actions of the participating websites.
With any luck, a clear message has been sent to the recording industry: stop messing with your consumers, fix your broken business model (lower CD prices, give us reason to buy CDs again) and stop pretending you can stifle creativity in the name of the law, which you are not above. It has also brought light to the force inherent within the internet, whereas previously such attempts at electronic civil disobedience were easily demolished by law suits which bankrupted their targets and forced their hand. But this time was different. This time, the music listener won. This time, the recording industry needs to admit, “Okay, maybe we are being more of a burden on consumers than a partner.” This time, a statement was made, and I couldn’t be happier with how it was done.
