Fan economy: expanded rights are worth $3.5 billion, now what?

MIDiA recently, and exclusively, revealed that expanded rights now represent 10% of the recorded music market with revenues of $3.5 billion. These revenues, derived principally from monetising the brand of the artist (merch, sponsorships, branding, live, etc.), represent a shift in strategic focus for the global music business. It is moving from a consumption economy to a fan economy. This is only the start. To truly harness the vast potential of a fan economy, three key things need to be addressed:

1. Image and likeness: The music industry’s current social media focus might be the UMG / TikTok spat, but the real battle will be over the cultural value of artists on social. As music creators invest increasingly more time into making social content, their images and likenesses are powering social media engagement and revenues. We are at the point where some value exchange needs to be established. Back in 2021, we laid out the case for a creator right (the linked report is free to download) that ensures creators are remunerated whenever they generate value, regardless of whether their music is being performed. With the ascent of generative AI, the concept is needed more than ever. The music business is waking up to the importance of image and likeness. The catalogue deal for Tina Turner included these rights, while Bob Marley’s estate sold his catalogue but retained his image rights because they have used them to create a global Marley branded empire. Likeness rights have a long history, with the first big ‘win’ being actor Crispin Glover settling with Universal Studios in 1990 for infringing his likeness when they altered the appearance of another actor to look like him with prosthetics as George McFly in Back to the Future Part II. This resulted in The Screen Actors Guild prohibiting its members from mimicking other actors. Music needs a George McFly moment. The state of Tennessee protecting artists’ voice and likeness may be a first step.
   
2. Reconfiguring streaming: MIDiA has been saying for years now that there is a lot Western streaming can learn from China’s fandom-focused approach to streaming. While Chinese fandom revenues have recently taken a hit due to governmental policy shifts, the underlying premise of making streaming about fandom and expressing identity remains crucial. Artist subscriptions are an obvious next step, making streaming about lean in fandom rather than lean back consumption. We have written about artists subscriptions a lot – recently; more than a decade ago; and in governmental policy submissions. James Blake’s escapes may have soured appetite, but that is, in part, because stand alone subscription apps face an uphill struggle. The most obvious opportunity is to make them part of the core streaming experience. The old internet was ‘build it and they will come’, today’s is ‘go where the audience is’. But there is more to do than artist subscriptions. Giving users profile pages where they can buy and earn fandom badges is probably the most important first step, something pioneered in the West by Audiomack and also seen on apps like Fave and Renaissance. HYBE is prepping Weverse for international expansion, Spotify looks set to make some moves soon, and both Sir Lucian Grainge and Rob Kyncl are leading their respective companies in this direction too.
   
3. Nurturing, not harvesting, fandom: There are two dangers inherent in record label superfan strategies: 1) weaned on lean back streaming, superfans might not be super enough, and 2) it is all  too easy to focus on monetising fandom rather than nurturing it. As much as Korean labels like HYBE, SM, and JYP might be industrialising fandom and exploiting fans, they at least understand the importance of building and nurturing fandom (take a look at the chart from JYP’s earnings to understand their fandom approach). Record label expanded rights were up 16% in 2023 and will continue to grow strongly. It is incumbent on record labels to consider fans as a scarce resource to be cultivated, not simply monetised, otherwise the soil will be left exhausted and barren.

Along with non-DSP and vinyl, expanded rights represent part of the modern music industry’s multi-faceted fan strategy and 2023 was arguably the first year of this new music business era. Streaming is not going away. Indeed, it will be part of this future, but the consumption-focused approach of the 2010s is going to be shunted to the side as fandom takes centre stage. Not a moment too soon.

Super fans may not be super enough

There has been a lot of talk recently of music superfans and how they may be the shining light of the industry’s future. Little surprise, given how record labels are trying to establish superfans as the next growth driver for an investor community that is growing increasingly concerned about slowing streaming growth and looming threats, such as AI. There is no doubt that superfans are crucial – they always have been. The problem is that they may not be as valuable in the future as they once were. And the reasons for that lie in the very same streaming economy that the industry is trying to build beyond.

A brief history of superfans

In the early days of the modern music business, music fans were the superfans. The means of demonstrating that fandom was buying the records and, if you were really lucky, seeing the band. A small portion were also members of (usually fan-run) fan clubs. Throughout the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s, the music business further professionalised and productised. The live business emerged as a revenue generator in its own right (rather than the loss-leader for selling albums that it had largely been). Merchandise became widely deployed. Fanclubs became more serious. 

Yet, music sales were still the main fandom game in town. The CD era catalysed music buying at scale and the heyday of the album era. Superfans would buy multiple albums every month (leading to the rise of the ‘50 quid bloke’). Superfans were album fans. Superfans were album buyers. And there was no ceiling on how much they could spend.

Then along came Napster, turning the world upside down. Music sales started to plummet and the album began its long, steady demise, as consumers dissected albums, first on Napster, then iTunes, and then YouTube and Spotify. 

When everyone is super….

When Spotify came to market, the recorded music industry was in crisis, with revenues in freefall. People just were not buying albums anymore. 50 quid bloke had become an endangered species. Recorded music’s loss was live’s gain. As music sales fell, live revenues grew, almost in mirror opposite curves. Live became the place superfans began to shift their spend, with merch sales growing in live’s wake. 

So, when Spotify came along with the promise of getting people back into the habit of spending on recorded music again, it was eagerly welcomed. Perhaps not immediately, as much of the label community needed convincing, but that speed bump was cleared when labels started to see consumers commit, at scale, to monthly spend. With more people spending more frequently, revenue growth returned. The problem was that those people who used to buy multiple albums every month, now only spent the cost of less than one album to get all the music they could ever want. 

Streaming placed a cap on superfan spend. As the years passed, newer, younger music fans came into the market who had never spent large chunks of their disposable income on buying albums. The average, semi-casual fan was now spending the same as superfans. And to quote Syndrome from the Incredibles “When everyone’s super, no one’s super”.

Nurture fandom, don’t just harvest it

Over recent years, the industry has started to nudge people towards becoming superfans again, or at least spending like them. Whether that be indie fans on Bandcamp, or Swifties being convinced to ‘help Taylor’ by buying yet another re-recorded album. The problem is that this behaviour is at the fringes of consumer behaviour. We have had 15 years (i.e., almost a generation’s worth of time) of educating consumers that music does not need to cost more than $9.99….ok….$10.99. Superfans have been un-supered. 

None of this is to say that there is not a massive superfan opportunity to be had, but it will take work. Much of the latent superfan spend has dissipated due to fading habits and the wallet share shift to live. Consumers will need re-educating, re-familiarising. But there is more to it than that. When consumers spend money on a live concert, they get a unique, in the moment experience. When they used to buy five albums a month, they got hours of new music that they would not have had otherwise. Buying a special edition of an album is simply another version of something that fans already have on streaming. 

So, to Make Fans Super Again™, there has to be a genuine value exchange. Fans need new things to persuade them to spend, new things that actually build and deepen their fandom rather than simply a new opportunity to fleece them for another dollar.

Time to jump off the algorithm highway

Life is perpetual change, so it is perhaps overdoing it to suggest that the music business is at a cultural pivot point. Yet, what comes next has the potential to be looked at, years from now, as a dividing line between before and after. For more than half a decade, the music business has been hurtling down the algorithm highway, repurposing artist development, marketing, fan engagement, and even the structure of the song itself in order to stay the path. Everything is splintering, from attention to remuneration, with creators and rightsholders alike finding themselves feeding a beast whose hunger is never sated. Much like an addict who wants to quit but cannot, the music business understands the problem and the costs it incurs them, yet they dare not jump off the algorithm highway for fear of being left behind by those who do not. And yet, jumping is exactly what is needed, to halt the perpetual commodification of both music and creators. It is a leap of faith, but onto a welcoming crash mat: scenes.

At Future Music Forum this week, myself and fellow MIDiA analysts Tatiana Cirisano and Kriss Thakrar talked a lot about MIDiA’s new research into scenes and identity (MIDiA clients can read our latest report on the topic here). Regular readers will be familiar with our work on fragmented fandom and how the splintering of consumption has created a parallel splintering of culture, with new hits becoming smaller and more short-lived. In this song economy environment, it is the song, not the artist, that is the central currency, thus making nurturing smaller fandoms mission critical. But fandom itself is the symptom, the cause is identity, and this, along with the scenes in which it manifests, is where the future of music marketing lies.

Algorithms have assumed a central role in the success of artists in today’s music business, with marketers forever trying to improve their understanding of their inner workings in order to gain advantage for their artist. It is, in many respects, a fool’s errand, as it is in the platforms’ interest to continually evolve the algorithms in order to ensure it is themselves that determine success, not third parties. Nonetheless, there are ways to succeed in the song economy: you may not be able to beat the algorithm, but you can join it. This means thinking and behaving like an algorithm, to hold virality by the hand. Just like an algorithm, this means real-time multivariate testing within target segments, and progressively expanding only to next-level associated segment, resisting the ability to go big as soon as something fires. But using the algorithm as a marketing discipline truly effectively entails a degree of ruthlessness that many artists and labels would find unpalatable. Algorithms find success by casting out failure instantly, instead only amplifying that which resonates within target segments. So a label pursuing this approach would need to be willing to ditch a campaign incredibly early if it does not, however much the label might believe in the release or however big a priority the artist might be. Artist rosters would become a production line of bets, as quickly discarded as signed. Failing fast is as important as succeeding fast in the song economy. 

This ruthlessness does not sit well with the traditional model of building an artist but, as dystopian a vision as it might be, is the exact path that labels already find themselves on. Scenes represent an alternative way forward.

Scenes and identity

Scenes have always existed, but now there is a growing proliferation of online scenes that allow a degree of specificity that was simply not possible previously. As Tatiana puts it:

“Not only can people find people across the globe with the exact same interests and values, algorithms actually push those people closer together”.

Though scenes can be transitory and ephemeral, subject to fast-shifting cultural trends, the really valuable ones are those that are rooted in identity, that speak to who people are about. The eBoy scene, with Young Blud as an icon, is a case in point, reflecting the values of a tribe that does not identify with the Instagram-perfect archetype of appearance. 

These scenes sometimes revolve around music, but most often, music is simply the soundtrack, with a number of artists emerging as icons, not because they have cynically targeted them but because they come from those communities and reflect their values. Fandom is an output of this shaping of identity. It is simultaneously a way of showing how much identity matters to you and of reinforcing that identity. In fact, fandom is identity’s virtuous circle of influence, with people’s fandom reinforcing their identity and communicating it to their scene community, thus reinforcing their bonds within it.

Identity is fandom’s ground zero. Music marketers that are able to identify and nurture it (rather than simply attempt to harvest it) have an opportunity to forge a depth of artist-fan relationship that will endure far beyond the whim of any algorithm, survive both hit and miss singles, and will not disappear into the black hole of lean-back consumption. 

Streaming put fandom on hiatus. Scenes represent an opportunity to reforge fandom for the modern era, an incubator for artist careers. In short, an antidote to the song economy.

WMG is moving beyond superstars – and that is a good thing

Warner Music Group’s (WMG’s) Steve Cooper recently stated that the major is no longer financially dependent on superstars – which is, of course, quite a different thing from not being culturally dependent on them, but we’ll get to that. For a major’s CEO (exiting or not) to make such a claim is both bold and a reflection of the reality on the ground. In fact, it is a natural milestone in a trend MIDiA identified years ago: fragmented fandom. As streaming audiences and consumption fragment, so does the impact of superstars. As with any transition, the shift is not linear and there will continue to be more Olivia Rodrigos and Billie Eilishes, but they will be fewer and farther between, and crucially, they will be smaller than their pre-fragmentation peers.

Superstars getting smaller is music to the ears of independent labels and artists alike, but it is far from the death knell for big labels. Instead, it simply reflects the new environment in which they will operate. Indeed, Cooper said WMG is pursuing a “portfolio” strategy “across a bigger number of artists” to reduce financial “dependency on superstars”. This comes after BMG’s CEO, Hartwig Masuch, said of their latest results: “The extraordinary thing about our first half result is that we grew revenue 25% with virtually no hits”. Having no superstars does not mean having no hits, instead it means more, smaller hits.

In 2019, MIDiA wrote that “Niche is the new mainstream”, that the water cooler moments of the linear era were being replaced by cultural moments. Audiences are in different places at different times, with algorithms delivering them different personalised content. Concepts, such as ‘song of the summer’, are becoming different for everyone. Each listener has their own song of the summer. In the era of fragmented fandom, water cooler moments across the masses, where everyone heard the song on the radio at the same time, are replaced by smaller groups of people finding pockets of likeminded fans across the world.

The consequence for artist marketing is a progressive shift from ‘carpet bombing’ mass media in order to build artist brand reach, to campaigns that, instead, reach real fans with laser-focused targeting. In the old model, a superstar artist was a household name, with mum and dad just as likely to know them as their kids. But what was the value of mum and dad knowing the artist if they were not the target audience? It might play to the artists’ egos, but it was an inefficient spend of marketing budget. Now, targeted marketing reaches the consumers who care. The result is smaller, but more passionate, fanbases. This is marketing to build fans rather than audiences. It is just a shame that western DSPs are built for passive audiences rather than fandoms. That will need to change. DSPs paradoxically triggered the fragmentation, but they do not provide the mechanisms for artists and labels to benefit. A cynic might argue that that is by design.

Indeed, the fragmentation of listening that streaming is pushing consumption towards the middle, away from the superstars, as Music Business Worldwide’s Luminate chart for streams of the US top-10 tracks shows.

For the superstars who are used to mega-fame from the pre-fragmentation days, a new release’s performance can look like diminishing success when measured by traditional metrics – just ask Beyonce. But, because fragmentation means it is truer fans that engage with the music, the cultural relevance of these smaller hits can actually be bigger – again just ask Beyonce.

There are, however, extra complications. As we are currently in a transition phase, pre-fragmentation hangovers are muddying the streaming waters. Pre-fragmentation hits stick around for longer on streaming because they had the pre-fragmentation brand reach. Since they benefited from the old-world mainstream media exposure, their hits cut through on streaming in a way that newer ones often struggle to. These pre-fragmentation hangovers have the effect of fragmenting new hits even further as they take up so much of streaming’s consumption. The result is that streaming is not so much a level playing field as a field of all levels.This transition phase will play out, and while it does, there is a world of opportunity for artists and labels that can harness the deeply held fandom that fragmentation creates.

The rise of scenes

The most exciting knock-on effect of fragmentation is the rise of scenes and micro scenes. In the old world, consumers had a limited range of things with which they could identify themselves, as everyone was watching the same TV, reading the same magazines, listening to the same radio, and shopping in the same shops. Now, consumers can build their own identity from an ever more diverse set of attributes, across fashion, music, TV / film, games, politics, etc. 

As my colleague Tatiana Cirisano put it:

“The result is that scenes are becoming more complex and splintered. Consider the seemingly endless range of subcultures on TikTok, from #cottagecore to #EGirl, or the Instagram account @starterpacksofnyc, which has garnered more than 64,500 followers by crystallising super-specific, yet eerily-familiar, personality types.”

This rise of scenes is what will shape the future of marketing, with scenes becoming the new territories, transcending borders and cultures. Superstars will get smaller, but they will get better at monetising their superfans (this is why Taylor Swift’s Universal Music Group deal includes a broader range of rights than just recordings, as her sales were only going to go in one direction). Superstars are not dead, they are changing, become smaller and less, well, super. It is an inevitable second-order consequence of streaming splintering listening and the smart labels will harness the trend rather than try to fight it.

C.R.E.A.T.E. An entertainment manifesto

When we first formed MIDiA eight years ago, we saw the new entertainment world was going to require a new joined up approach for entertainment businesses. With the start of the ascent of the smartphone we made an intellectual bet that everything was going to become more interconnected, inter-dependent and inter-competitive. Our vision then, was to build analysis and data that cut across siloes, to help previously unrelated industries understand they were becoming connected. The ‘connecting the dots’ tagline that we launched with in 2014 was right for the time, but now the world has moved on. The dots are now connected. That job is done. Now it is time to decide what to do with those connections.

In more recent years we identified new drivers of the entertainment economy, such as:

• Fragmented Fandom
• The Attention Economy
• The Attention Recession
• Creator independence
• Rise of creator tools
• Reaggregation

When we introduced those concepts they took some time to land, but now are increasingly widely accepted as industry currency. Even other research companies have started following our lead, with webinars and research on the attention economy, the attention recession and fandom fragmentation.

But although those trends will continue to play crucial roles, it is an entirely new set of market dynamics that will shape the future as the world enters a period of uncertainty and disruption unprecedented in modern times:

• Attention inflation: As consumers return to pre-pandemic behaviours, they are trying to squeeze all their new-found entertainment behaviours into less available time. Multitasking is rocketing which means each entertainment minute is less valuable as it is increasingly being done alongside something else. Many more consumption hours than actual hours results in attention inflation.
• The splintering of culture: Water cooler moments may not yet be dead but they are fading. Hits are getting smaller (just ask Beyonce) and audiences are fragmenting. But cultural relevance can actually increase within these fragmented fanbases (again, just ask Beyonce). Culture is splintering but may end up more vibrant as a result.
• Scenes and identity: Underpinning and resulting from culture splintering is the rise of scenes, especially micro scenes which populate platforms like Twitter. Scenes are more than just groups of fans, they a cultural movements that that people look to for identity and belonging. Fandom is merely a subcomponent.
• Lean through: Consumers used to just, well, consume. Now though, every more of them want to participate. The line between creation and consumption is blurring. Leaning forward is no longer enough, now audiences want to lean in and create.
• The creator economy: Perhaps the single biggest shift in entertainment in recent years is the rise and rise of the creator economy, straddling virtually every entertainment format. The creator economy is so much more than vloggers and influencers. It represents a reshaping of culture, remuneration and audiences. As such it will reshape entertainment forever. 
• Post-peak growth: With inflation soaring and a recession looming, consumers will have less money to spend on entertainment and leisure. Some sectors will suffer, some will sustain but others will grow. Whether it is to survive or to thrive, entertainment companies will need to reshape both their strategies and purpose.
• Rediscovery is the future of discovery: The first phase of streaming was all about discovery. Now, with a surplus of supply and demand constrained by the attention recession, what consumers want as much as what is new, is to re-find what they already know and love.

Business as usual is gone. The next chapter of the business of entertainment will require a completely new approach. This is MIDiA’s C.R.E.A.T.E. Entertainment Manifesto for what is required of entertainment companies in this brave new world.

• Cultivate every moment: Multitasking means consumption minutes are losing value. Every moment needs to be made as valuable and as entertaining as it possibly can be. Entertainment companies need their audiences notice what they consume.
• Reward the creator economy: Streaming and social platforms are increasingly dependent on the long tail. The scale economics work for platforms by summing up a multiplicity of niches but they do not work for long tail creators. Platforms and rightsholders need to nurture not just harvest the creator economy.
• Empower the consumer as a creator: Lean through consumers are also super fans. More platforms and services need to give consumers the sort of participation tools that TikTok built is success upon. Not just because it is what audiences want but because it also builds fandom and amplifies entertainment brands.
• Add value and escapism: As consumers’ wallets tighten, subscriptions and ad spend are both at risk. But this need not be an entertainment Armageddon. Instead, entertainment companies should offer consumers what they want: 1) value for money, 2) escape from the harsh realities of daily life.
• Target the middle: While it is tempting to always chase the big hit, the reality is that hits are getting smaller. Success in these coming years will be most easily found by cultivating a collection of mid-sized hits rather than placing all bets on mega hits.
• Embrace scenes and identity: Scenes and identity are the undervalued super power of entertainment. Music, games, sports, creators, books, movies, TV shows – they all move people and they all help define who we are. Truly understanding and harnessing identity will be the difference between survive and thrive. 

We hope that the C.R.E.A.T.E. framework and our new Critical Developments coverage help companies and creators plot their paths through the troubled waters ahead. But even more important, is to develop a sense of purpose, a definition of why you do what you do, and to communicate that to your audiences and partners. The entertainment industries have 

Tribes are the future of fandom (and that may or may not be a good thing)

At MIDiA, we spend a lot of time exploring the fan economy and how new forms of fandom are redefining media businesses. The most significant underlying dynamic is the fragmentation of fandom: the dynamic whereby we move ever further from mass-reach media, where everyone is exposed to the same content, to a world where entertainment exists in a complex mesh of filter bubbles. Niche becomes the new mainstream. Whereas, as Asian entertainment companies have become adept at industrialising fandom in this new paradigm, Western companies are less so. In music, big record labels still have a mindset of wanting to create mainstream, global hits. But the fandom playbook is changing. Global success now depends less on how wide your message can reach, and more on how deep it can go. Mass reach is becoming superseded by conversion, and mainstream is become replaced by tribes.

What do Donald Trump and tribal fanbases have in common?

Tribalism is, for better or for worse, central to how humanity functions, and, of course, underpins millennia of armed conflict. How tribalism can manifest among strident fanbases is simply a lighter shade of the same dynamic that can send countries to war, part of the same sliding scale on which Trump operated. In fact, the tactics of the Trump movement often bore more resemblance to those used by K-pop acts than those used by political opponents.

Just like a contemporary, always-on artist, Trump fed his audience with an immense amount of content, access and engagement, and even did a live national tour. Like some of the most tribal of music fanbases, Trump nurtured a sense of otherness among his supporters – it is them against the world and the system is rigged against them. There is perhaps no better way of strengthening a tribe’s sense of oneness than strengthening its sense of otherness.

Tribalism and the role of us-vs-them

Fandom trades on basic human instincts and psychology, particularly two of the ‘deficiency needs’ in Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs: belonging and esteem (political fandom also trades on a third need: safety). Any kind of fandom depends on people feeling like they are a part of something, and how that something plays a role in identifying who they are. Tribal fandom takes this one step further, distilling this shared identity to an ‘us-vs-them’ mentality. Fans become focused on identifying, not just what makes them, well, them, but also what makes the rest of the world…not them. At its worst, that can be used by politicians, like Trump, to stoke fear against immigrants, liberals, people of colour, or basically anyone that is not part of their tribe. In less severe forms, it can manifest as artist fanbases mobilising en masse on social platforms against something they do not like. The sense of oneness, defined against the otherness of the rest, enables them to feel like the establishment is against them, even when they become the establishment, whether that be becoming the political party in power or the band that sets YouTube streaming records.

This flavour of tribal fandom has been made possible by social media and the broader way in which it facilitates online conversation. Often, social media facilitates a hyper-defensive style of discourse, with the loudest voices winning out, even if they are not the majority. Indeed, the fragmentation of fandom means that the whole concept of ‘majorities’ are becoming a thing of the past. In a political and business environment, now defined by the claims of the Facebook whistle blower, Frances Haugen, there is a growing understanding that a recalibration of social media is required, and ideally before Facebook Meta simply migrates social into the metaverse, warts and all. 

Fandom’s industrial revolution

But there is also vast positive opportunity within tribal fandom. As Chartmetric identifies, what sets K-pop artists from big Western artists is that they convert the vast majority of their audience into fans. There is little wastage. By contrast, big Western artists often have bigger total audiences, but a much smaller share that are ‘fans’, e.g., artist follower and active listener counts. This is simply taking Kevin Kelly’s 1,000 true fans conceptand recreating it on an industrial scale. In fact, you could argue that we are entering fandom’s industrial revolution phase. As this epoch plays out, the most effective marketing and monetisation across all forms of entertainment will be that which focuses on tightly defined tribes, rather than mass market reach. The shift from cultural moments to cultural movements is only just beginning. Politics (e.g., Trump and the Brexit campaign) have learned the tricks well, as has a select group of entertainment companies (e.g., Netflix and Big Hit Music). The coming years will be shaped by everyone else playing catch up.

Adele’s success will be measured in cultural impact – not sales

Adele is something of an anomaly in the modern music business, a throwback to how things used to be. These days even the biggest artists struggle to get mainstream attention for their new releases in a flooded market that is defined by more releases than ever before, and the ‘always on’ artist who is continually releasing new music and talking to their audience. Adele, though, follows the old model of landmark releases every half a decade and, up to now, she has managed to make it work by creating a cultural zeitgeist that the world opts into at scale. But the world has moved on a lot since her 2015 release, 25, and the nagging question is whether she can do it again with 30 in the much-changed music world.

Adele’s album releases act as chapter markers for the evolution of the recorded music market. Back in 2008, when 19 was released, it was still a sales (physical and downloads) and album dominated world. 90% of global revenues were from sales, while streaming was just 2%. With each half-decade release, the music world had moved on. Indeed, it could be argued that the biggest risk was with 25 in 2015, when streaming was already more than a fifth of revenues, and physical sales had fallen by 44% from 2008. Yet the album still managed to rack up 22 million sales and, in turn, became one of the biggest selling albums of the millennium. Adele bucked the prevailing industry trends.

Streaming does not favour albums

Fast forward to 2021 and the world has shifted even further, with 65% of revenues coming from streaming, and sales accounting for just a quarter. This is a dramatically different music world from the one in which 25 was released. Streaming will be the main way in which success is measured. Yet, just 15% of people listen to full albums on streaming services, so either Adele pulls an Ed Sheeran and has her entire album dominate the most streamed song charts (a possibility, but not a probability), or she has a few really big songs that rack up big streaming numbers. And to do that, she has to perform like a streaming-era artist.

Competing with streaming-era artists

Right now, Adele has two songs on Spotify with a billion streams. Compare this with Travis Scott who has three songs, two of which are more than 1.5 billion. Or Ed Sheeran, who has five songs, one of which is about to hit three billion (Shape of You). Heck, even Marshmello has three one billion stream tracks, of which one has 1.5 billion. No offence to Marshmello, but Adele will be expecting to have bigger cultural impact than him. It should be achievable (assuming that the music is strong enough), if for no other reason than the fact that there are three quarters of a billion more people streaming than in 2015.

Cultural impact will be the truest measure of success

But even if she does catch up on streaming figures, that probably is not how we should measure Adele’s success. In today’s world of fragmented fandom, fandom is defined by cultural movements rather than cultural moments. This is a dynamic that is intensified by the fact that media is also far more fragmented. Audiences are spread more thinly across a much wider range of platforms, shows and apps. It is simply much harder to create cultural moments. But that is exactly what Adele’s team will be planning to do. And given the current media buzz, she looks on track to do so once again, supported, as ever, by a simple but clever marketing campaign.

Recently, Adele has become much more visible, using Instagram and Facebook Live, pushing herself back into the public consciousness and even playing into meme culture. Beyond the music itself, it will be the continued use of social media, coupled with meeting the eager demand of traditional media that will determine whether 30 can become the sort of cultural phenomenon that 21 and 25 were. The fact that she still sings from the heart and is so relatable gives her an authenticity that is so often thin on the ground with today’s pop stars.

Creating a cultural moment

So, the success of 30 will probably be best measured in terms of whether there is a genuine cultural moment. In short, how long will Adele’s music and her team be able to maintain global interest and relevance? Success may be more about whether, two months down the line, we still have memes flooding TikTok and James Corden doing skits. This will say as much about how the world is responding to her music than how many streams she clocks up. And, of course, I have not even mentioned sales – not by accident. These metrics are just not going to be the way to gauge her success anymore (even considering the industry’s obsession with artificially boosted ‘sales’ figures with ‘sales equivalent streams’).

Adele has always been something of an anomaly, finding success through the power of her music rather than by playing whatever the latest marketing game is. Of course, expect every contemporary marketing card to be played (especially TikTok). But it will be through cultural impact, not streams, that we will truly understand how loudly her music still speaks.

The oncoming fandom crisis

The Chinese authorities’ crackdown on fandom represents the first major growing pain for the global fandom economy. Tencent Music Entertainment (TME) will likely be the bellwether of this shift, with two thirds of its revenues coming from non-music (i.e., fandom) related activities. But this is more than just about China – it shines a light on the dark underbelly of the global fandom machine. The companies behind K-pop and Idol acts industrialised fandom by leveraging, and even exploiting, fan psychology to massive global businesses that trade upon extracting every possible ounce of spend from fanbases. The China crackdown should act as a wakeup call for the global music market. 

The industrialisation of fandom

Regular readers will know that MIDiA has focused on fandom analysis and research for a number of years now, looking at it across all forms of entertainment. The reasons we believe it is so interesting in music is because Western streaming services monetise consumption rather than fandom, leaving both passion and spent on the table. 

The Chinese music apps illustrate just how much more can be achieved when experiences are built around the music, rather than simply relying on music to always be the experience. Alongside this, the rise of K-pop, which leans heavily on the Japanese Idol model, shows how much fanbases can be willing to support their favourite artists, particularly in terms of both spend and passion. But, as exciting as these models are, they have also been underpinned by the temptation to push fans’ spending and obsession further and further.

Even Western artists are getting in on the act. When Taylor Swift encouraged her fanbase to go and buy the re-recorded version of Fearless, she was looking for their support in her old master recordings ordeal. But who really needed the $50 for a vinyl copy most, Swift or her fans? 

This industrialisation of fandom has actually weaponised it, and, in doing so, puts its very essence at risk.

The oncoming fandom crisis

A fandom crisis is coming. Fandom is far more meaningful and profound for fans than mere consumption. It is also far harder to measure – in fact, it is only the effects of fandom that can be measured (i.e., merch sales, comments, likes, etc.). Fandom is rooted in human psychology. It is about identity, belonging and self-expression. Things that often matter more to younger people than anything else, especially teens in their formative years. It is no coincidence that the industrial fandom machines are primarily built around younger consumers. The Chinese government’s decision to limit fandom, in part because of its negative social impacts, is an extreme move, but it could also act as an ice breaker for regulatory scrutiny in Western markets. 

The fandom crisis goes beyond music

The oncoming fandom crisis is neither confined just to Asia, nor just to music. In fact, huge swathes of the global social economy are built on exactly the same dynamics. TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, Twitch – all of these platforms exploit the creator / fan relationship and have constructed sophisticated monetisation frameworks around them. The sophistication does not so much lie in payment methods or technology, but instead in deploying products that drive competitive fandom. Fans compete to be the biggest fan, often by spending more. This can be a kid spending their parents’ money to have his comment pinned to the top of a YouTube gamer’s comment stream, or a Twitch user paying to unlock exclusive emotes and sub badges of their favourite Twitch streamer. 

The platforms need to consider a crucial principle: just because you can do it does not always mean that you should do it.

A crucial moment for the business of fandom

Fandom is the ozone layer of the entertainment world, and it is a critical resource that is too often taken for granted and can be irrevocably damaged. 

This is a crucial juncture for fandom. We are beginning to see the emergence of cool new apps, like Fave, and Western labels looking East for inspiration, such as UMG tapping Hybe’s Weverse app for some of its artists. It is crucial that well intentioned efforts do not falter because of a wider fandom backlash. Fandom should be nurtured, not harvested.

Not only is there so much that can be done, the music industry needs more to be done. A key reason there are armies of BTS and Black Pink fans in the West is because a generation of kids were growing up with a sense that something was missing from music for them, that streaming simply did not let them express themselves and feel part of something. Streaming in the West does not do fandom. Streaming in China, perhaps, does it too well. Clearly, there must be a solution somewhere in the middle that enables fans to be fans, while also doing the right thing for them. 

Fandom and ethics should not occupy opposite sides of the debate. They should be intertwined and interdependent. Fandom is about who you are and what you are. Without ethics, what are any of us?

Growth drivers – what comes after streaming

The pandemic-defined 2020 was an outlier year across digital entertainment, with the extra 12% of time consumers spent with entertainment boosting everything, including music. One of the effects was that streaming grew more than it would have otherwise, delaying the inevitable slowdown in streaming revenue growth. This artificial 2020 boost meant that the slowdown impact was felt even more strongly when it arrived in Q1 2021. 

The major labels saw streaming revenue grow by just 0.8% between Q4 2020 and Q1 2021, while Spotify saw revenues fall by 1%. Seasonality plays a major role here (a similar trend was seen last year) and year-on-year revenues were up by around a quarter. Nonetheless it reflects a maturing market. 

Back in 2019 Spotify’s revenues grew 15.7% from Q4 2018 to Q1 2019, while the majors’ streaming revenue was up 3% between Q4 2017–Q1 2018. In short, when the market was growing faster, seasonality did not result in flat / negative growth. Streaming is still in good shape and is going to remain the core of recorded music revenues for the foreseeable future, and Spotify’s price increases will bring a little extra revenue in 2021, but it is clearly time to start thinking about what comes next.

There is an argument that in today’s post-format world, we should not even be thinking about the next thing. So, it is better to think about what new business models and user experiences can grow alongside streaming, to diversify the music industry’s income mix. 

Music businesses, labels in particular, are busy exploring where future growth will come from. The more pessimistic argue that this is largely as good as it gets, that there will not be a ‘next streaming’. That might be right in terms of a single revenue source, but the early signs are that there is enough potential in a range of sources to collectively drive growth. Here are a few of the music industry’s potential growth drivers:

• Games: Ever since the Marshmello Fortnite event, games has acquired a new degree of importance for the music business. WMG’s stake in Roblox points to just how serious labels are taking the opportunity. With global games revenues hitting $120 billion in 2020 (around $100 billion more than the recorded music market) and more than a third of those revenues being driven by cosmetic (i.e., non-gameplay) spend, there is a wealth of opportunity. But to succeed, music companies will need to think about creative ways to enhance the gaming experience rather than simply seeing it as another licensing play.
  
• Social: Revenue from the likes of TikTok and Facebook finally became meaningful in 2020, accounting for around three quarters of the growth registered in ad supported. We are still scratching the surface of what social can do for music, but building tools for users to create their own music and audio will be key. Facebook’s Sound Studio could prove to be a defining first step towards the establishment of the consumer’s version of the social studio.
  
• Creator tools: As regular readers will know, MIDiA considers the current revolution in the creator tools space to be one of the most important shifts to the entire music business in recent years. Not only is it transforming the culture of music creation, it represents a new set of opportunities for deepening artist-fan relationships and a set of new facets for the future of music companies.
  
• Next-generation sync: Although traditional music sync revenues fell in 2020, music production libraries (including royalty free) grew. We are on the cusp of a major new wave of opportunity in sync, with social content, platform and creators representing a scale of demand that far exceeds that of the traditional sync market. And it is the slow-moving nature of that traditional sector which means that the likely winners in the social sync market will be the new generation of companies that offer solutions that are sufficiently agile and fast to meet the scale of micro-sync demand.
  
• Live streaming: The pandemic virtually created the live stream marketplace, resulting in a tidal wave of new start-ups rushing to fill the void left by live. While the results have been a mixed bag, there have been enough high-quality successes to suggest that this is a sector with longevity that will outlive lockdown. The services that will prosper when IRL returns are those that deliver genuinely differentiated experiences that complement rather than try to replace IRL live. 
  
• Fitness: Another of the pandemic’s second order effects was a surge in consumer spending on home fitness equipment, including Peleton. Right now there is some meaningful music licensing revenue building around the space, but Beyoncé’s Peleton partnership shows that the opportunity goes way beyond simply piping music into workouts. Crucially, the Beyoncé partnership creates an audience that is focusing their entire attention on the artist, which is rarely the case when people are listening to music on audio streaming services.
• Fandom: Fandom is the next frontier for music monetisation. Western streaming services monetise consumption, whereas Tencent Music Entertainment monetises fandom, with two thirds of its revenue coming from non-music activity. We are beginning to see a flurry of activity in artist subscriptions and meanwhile, Patreon goes from strength to strength. Check out this free MIDiA report for more on how to tap the fandom opportunity.

To reiterate, streaming is, and will remain for many years, the beating heart of recorded music revenue. In fact, more than that, most of these new opportunities exist at such scale because of streaming. Until now, streaming enabled revenue growth in its own right, now it will enable growth in new adjacent markets.

Music Streaming Needs a New Future

While doing some research on the Chinese streaming market I came across this fantastic UX tear down of Xiami Music. I recommend you read it in full. The day before I found this – also must-read –article on Beyoncé’s streaming strategy, which explains how she uses different platforms to segment her fanbase (Tidal – super fans, Spotify engaged fans, Netlix, passive fans). These two articles may seem entirely unrelated, but they are in fact two sides of the same coin: fandom.

Regular readers of MIDiA’s output will know that we have made fandom one of our central research themes, most recently identifying it as one of the next five growth drivers for the music business. We have also discussed at length how Chinese streaming services have built businesses around monetising fandom while Western streaming services instead simply monetise consumption.

Now I am going to take this thinking one step further by proposing a new way to consider how to segment the music consumption journey and how Western companies can become part of this new vision.

Consider music consumption as three key steps:

1. The song
2. The (artist) story
3. The fan

Streaming services now own the song. Social is doing an okay, but far from perfect job of owning the artist story. But no one – digitally – is owning the fandom. Music fans have to hop from one place to another to join the dots. This of course contrasts sharply with Chinese streaming services which own all three steps in the music journey. Let’s take a look at Xiami Music to illustrate the point.

I have written a lot in the past about Tencent Music’s portfolio of apps. Alibaba’s Xiami Music is one of the smaller players and its end-to-end value proposition is all the more impressive for that: this sort of functionality is table stakes for competing for audience attention in the Chinese market.

Delivering the music is almost just the starting point for Xiami Music, wrapping the music with endless additional context and features including (but by no means limited to): music videos, lyrics, commentaries, reviews, news, comment streams, virtual tipping, badges, trophies, lyrics poster, you can even grow your own Tamagotchi. As Siew writes in his UX tear down:

“Every piece of music has its own entourage — live versions, videos (the official one and the live ones), behind-the-scene footage, outtakes, remakes or covers, reviews etc.

Xiami has taken a leaf out of WeChat’s playbook. Everything you need about a song, an album, or an artiste/band, you can get it on Xiami. No need for you to google for lyrics, head to YouTube for a video, or launch Twitter/Weibo for news.”

Time to stop leaning back

Another insightful observation that Siew makes is that Xiami Music – as with other Chinese streaming apps – has a white background to make it easier to read and interact with lots of content. Whereas Western streaming apps have dark backgrounds as they behave as largely passive vehicles for delivering music: find your playlist, press play, close screen.

There is a fundamentally different UX ethos:

• Western apps: lean back, listen with minimal friction
• Chinese apps: lean forward, dive in, interact

Years ago (11 to be precise) I laid out a vision for lean forward music experiences, where interactive context and social features were built around the music. Now is the time for Western streaming services to push themselves out of their UX comfort zones and start to own stages two and three of the music journey.

Lead, don’t follow

It is important that they do not all follow the same path. Differentiation – or the abject lack of it – is the Achilles heel of Western streaming services. The hope here is that they each pursue their own path and use this blank canvass to develop their own unique identities. Which will make it easier for record labels and artists to follow Beyoncé’s approach of segmenting their audiences across different platforms.

Of course this will take time. It may even take another 11 years (though hopefully not). In the meantime radio companies should be seeing this as a great opportunity to carve out a role for themselves in step two (artist story telling). Most have realised by now that they cannot compete with streaming but instead should compete around it. Get it right and radio could become the home of artist storytelling, a genuine complement to streaming consumption. Meanwhile, TikTok may well be best placed to act fast to own step three (fandom) before the Western streaming services can get their respective acts in gear.

There is nothing quite like some fierce competition to focus the mind.