While this shift is giving artists more independence, the big caveat is they first have to prove themselves to the public.

We all know Prince was ahead of his time, but it was as much for his business savvy as his music. After signing his first record deal at age 18, the then-prodigy insisted on maintaining creative control over his music and Warner Bros agreed. It was very unusual at the time, but now that kind of autonomy is becoming more common—not by choice but by necessity. While major labels today will sign a distribution contract with promising artists, they won’t develop artists over 5-10 years anymore. In the process, they are giving up a lot of creative control. 

Traditionally, artists either signed with a label or were trying to sign with a label as they played sets at the bar. Then streaming decimated music revenue. These days, the serious money primarily comes from touring and “syncing” (pairing music in movies, TV, video games, and commercials). With CD sales plummeting and digital paying poorly, big labels have been forced to change their approach and at least share rights to an artist’s master recordings.

While this shift is giving artists more independence, the big caveat is they first have to prove themselves to the public. Nobody will sign an artist with just 500 Spotify listeners. As the old structure breaks down, partnership models are bridging the gap between label ownership of creativity and artists driving their own development. In the interim, we are all left counting both the cost and the opportunity.

The recent Broadway play Stereophonic offers a time capsule of an era when creative executives were in charge of the music business — and what we have since lost. Based on Fleetwood Mac’s early albums, the production turns the stage into a recording studio with the audience sitting behind the control booth. The play is a throwback to when labels would pay bands to stay in the studio for as long as it took to produce good songs.

Legendary figures like David Geffen and the former president of Columbia Records, Clive Davis, had great ears for music and talent back then. They were the kingmakers. When Geffen first heard the Eagles, he knew they needed development — better songs, better vocal harmonies — but also knew their potential and signed them to his Asylum Records in 1971. It seems that kind of influence is gone now; all we have left are finance guys running labels.

Having said all that, there has never been an exact formula for music success. Lady Gaga had to write songs for years and build herself up before breaking through. Carol King did the same thing. The difference now is that the resources to help artists find their voice are scarcer than ever. As Roc Nation recently announced, they are not a label anymore, just a distribution company. 

Thanks to democratized access to recording technology, artists can make music more easily today, at least at the beginning. Eventually, though, they will need to buy studio time and find a producer to develop their songs. The burden is on them to figure out exactly what they need. As a studio owner and independent label, we try to meet artists halfway by keeping costs down and giving them greater creative control.

The Rolling Stone Culture Council is an invitation-only community for Influencers, Innovators and Creatives.

We also have to get inventive with how we structure contracts. For example, the new breed of labels will likely have less ownership of master recordings. The future might look like joint ownership, ownership until an investment is returned, or joint ownership for 10 or 15 years, before the masters are returned to their owners. 

We also recently decided to try a lower-risk approach that lets both studios and artists gauge potential before deeper commitment. To that end, we are allowing an artist to put out one song and test it on the market. We will put money behind the song, promote it on social media and get it on Spotify. If it’s an incredible song, it will take off. If the song needs work, the artist will know what they have to do. In this new world, the ethos is collaboration rather than control.

Some things don’t change, however, and music success still requires hard work, stamina, self-belief and the ability to handle rejection. Think about the Beatles — they played eight hours a day and grew to know each other so well and exactly what their audience wanted. Even if songwriters need to write 100 songs for one gem, it’s that one gem that can make a career. Artists must also perform live to receive direct feedback about what works and what doesn’t. 

John and Paul were ahead of their time, too, in the sense of collaboration. They would write against each other or write with each other, balancing out one another’s instincts — McCartney’s melodic romanticism against Lennon’s rock sensibilities — to create a sound that resonated with audiences. Now this is happening in bigger groups.

Today’s artists write with many different people, sometimes in camps where four writers play off each other. That creates a bit of chaos when it comes to figuring out the percentage each person contributes to the final song. Roles and commitments are just less fixed now. We know of one group that was creatively stuck until they brought in another producer — and suddenly it expanded their possibilities. With all this new flexibility, I personally hope we are moving to a different zeitgeist where the industry produces more uplifting and enlightening music. 

The old power dynamic, where studios dictated terms until they got what they wanted, has given way to a new economic reality. With artists earning just $3,000-$4,000 per million streams (with Apple Music at the upper range of $8,000), they must now invest in their own development and bring an audience with them before approaching labels as equals. While born of necessity, this new model might just end up creating more authentic art. Ultimately, as always, it will be the audience that decides whether artists and labels have found the right balance.