Fifteen Minutes of Fame Music Entertainment

Originally Published on September 14th, 2025

The Internet was Mean to Me…

At my last job interview, my (now) boss asked me, “How I feel I perform in high pressure situations.” After some thought, I responded by saying this: “When I was in the army, I was a parachute rigger. Our motto was ‘be sure always.’ We believe in what we do so much that, it is our tradition to use our very first parachute that we pack. When it came time for me to jump, I did it without hesitation. I can’t think of a higher pressure situation than that.”

I did that.

I am a combat veteran. An Airborne combat veteran. I am a college graduate. A Magna Cum Laude college graduate. I am a former college athlete. I am a published author. I am a founder. I am a recording artist. I have heard music I wrote played on the radio. I have heard music I composed featured in a documentary. Two documentaries. I’ve won awards, been granted scholarships, I’ve shared the stage with Grammy winners, nominees, and silver, gold, and platinum-selling recording artists. Bonnie Raitt once playfully smacked my ass back stage at a benefit concert in Nashville, Tennessee.

And yet (sad face) one conversation on the internet can have me asking the question, “Have I already done everything I am going to do?”

So, Here’s What Happened…

Recently, it feels like Fifteen Minutes of Fame has become this thing I do that just repetitiously finds itself spinning its wheels in the mud. So naturally, I tried to find a way to shock her back to life. I decided I would enter a thought piece regarding the touchiest subject (it seems) for independent artists on the internet: should independent artists rely so heavily on Spotify as a resource to market their music?

The Argument:

Spotify is the most used platform for music today. At 700,000,000 monthly users, there is nothing else that offers such a vast listening pool.

However, it’s not so simple to find one’s self onto an algorithm that will streamline their music into that pool of listeners. Of the 10-25 million recording artists on Spotify, there are roughly 225,000 “professional artists” on the platform (a professional artist is defined by Spotify as an artist who has released at least 10 songs and has a minimum of 10,000 monthly listeners).

Of those, around 22,000 make a livable wage of $50,000 annually or more from royalties. We’re looking at 0.2% of artists at this point.

Now, recording artists come in all shapes and sizes. There are many who are all-in. This is what they’re doing. They might have a secondary source of income to help facilitate dream-chasing, but they are going for it. There are also other means of income. Merchandising, touring, social media, etc. The more serious musicians are finding ways to tap resources to achieve their goals.

Then, we can follow the spectrum all the way down to musicians who are just playing as a hobby. It’s not a primary source of income. It’s something they either once did or once dreamed of doing, but by one means or another, life happened. 80% of musicians on Spotify have 1,000 monthly listeners or less. Most of the musicians on Spotify have 50 monthly listeners or less. If a song on Spotify doesn’t hit the magical cap of 1,000 annual streams, then the artist does not get paid by Spotify. Even if they do, 1,000 streams equates to $4-$5 dollars.

Is there a better choice for these musicians to market their music?

In my opinion, one viable candidate is Bandcamp. They are one of a kind in how they pay musicians. They host things like “Bandcamp Friday,” where 100% of the proceeds go to the musician. The platform also seems to be growing steadily. There are millions of users, and last year there was $202 million spent on the platform purchasing digital music, physical, music, or merchandise from musicians. It’s a much smaller pool than Spotify’s, but the payouts are better and there is a more diversified list of artists featured.

Then This Happened…

For full transparency, this is how my comment read:

“As an independent artist, I understand that marketing through Spotify is important. With nearly 700 million monthly users, it’s an undeniable resource for the possibility of discovery. However, 4 out of 5 artists on Spotify have less than 50 monthly listeners. Which means, they are not making money from the platform. It’s because of this that platforms like Bandcamp are better resources for independent artists. Let’s normalize buying artists’ music again.”

Admittedly, my last couple of sentences were more assertive than I intended them to be. I didn’t mean to state Bandcamp was a better option. I certainly intended to imply, but I intended to be more open to prompt discussion.

Well, regardless, the discussion took place. There were a few comments who agreed. A couple of comments who just hated on Spotify. Then there was this:

“Let me help you fix the mistake in your logic: ‘4 out of every 5 artists on Spotify have less than 50 monthly listeners. Which means they’re not marketing their music right, or it’s boring, poorly written & produced, thus these artists fail to connect with their audience.’ Stop blaming EVERYTHING on Spotify, and start taking accountability for your own shortcomings. It will help you.”

I was angry for three reasons: One, that’s not the mantra that I support through Fifteen Minutes of Fame. I would never consider the idea that another musician’s music was boring or poorly written. That’s fucking rude and despicable. Two, the commenter misrepresented everything I said in my initial post. I didn’t blame Spotify for anything, let alone “EVERYTHING.” Sidebar: one of the most frustrating things I observe on the internet is when people are incapable of rating a spectrum of feeling. It’s “everything” or “nothing.” It’s an unnecessary and manipulatively irresponsible way to sway an argument or opinion and it tells me the person who is making the statement is likely arguing based on an opinion that was not backed by fact or knowledge.

Third, (and probably the thing that made me the angriest) I could see where this poster was going and the direction they were heading towards was one that made a decent point.

A Brief History of the Recording Industry

The days of “making it” because of talent are history. Labels used to scout for talent in bars, clubs and small venues all throughout Nashville. Musicians would send demos to labels and radio stations and, if they were lucky, they would be discovered out of “the pile.” Press Kits were headshots with a single-page resume on the back and a copy of a demo. Demos weren’t made to be albums. An artist needed to put their best song or songs out front, and it needed to catch the producer’s ear in the first 10 seconds. The “perfect song,” was a song where the first chorus concluded and the second verse began at exactly 1 minute.

Then the internet happened. After the recording industry was decimated by Napster, mp3s, and the emergence of the iPod, physical copies of music were starting to lose popularity. To make matters worse, recording started to shift from analog to digital and computers were getting more advanced, at a faster rate. ProTools made a huge splash in the late 90’s and then Apple released the MacBook. GarageBand, Logic, Fruity Loops (now FL Studios), and other DAW’s had musicians coming out of the woodworks from all over. On top of all of that, social media was connecting them to the world. To be an independent artist was no longer a death sentence. One could conceivably kickstart a career in music on their own, without management or representation.

The recording industry was now hemorrhaging. What was once known as “music row” in Nashville, became a street with a bunch of “for sale” signs. Down, but not out. As music continued to digitize, software platforms were being developed to facilitate the newer trends. The industry figured this all out and capitalized. They stopped going to clubs. They started going to profiles on social media. They partnered with streaming platforms, distribution sites, and consolidated their resources.

The downfall of “the artist” has always been “the business.” Some things never change. Businesses like that will always find a way to get their cut. To paraphrase The Founder, they realized they weren’t in the music business anymore. They were in the digital real estate business.

It used to be hard to make it in the business. Now, it’s crippling. There is no room for complacency. It takes hard work, it takes time, and it takes persistence. It takes a special kind of person to see that through and they can check all of the boxes and still not “make it in the industry.”

Getting Back on Topic Here…

This debate, argument, or dialogue (whatever it was) went round and round for about 24 hours until I had pointed out we were really just at an impasse.

It is frustrating when we try to speak to somebody who doesn’t seem capable of understanding or wanting to understand our points because they are so pompous. The internet has turned so many of us into that. I try not to be that person. I don’t always succeed.

In this instance, I will say that my responses were more open and I admitted throughout that I didn’t have the answers. I even conceded on a number of topics where I felt they made sound points.

I’m not going to stoop to their level and insult who they are as an artist-I truly find this to be the most distasteful part of the entire conversation and they should be ashamed of themselves for that. I would be so embarrassed to actually insult a musician by claiming their writing or their performance is “poor.” Shut the fuck up.

What I can say is they are awfully presumptuous and they are likely putting their cart before their horse. Yet they eagerly asserted themselves as a beacon of answers while, in the same breath, admitting that they were still struggling even with a respectable amount of success.

Aside from their condescension, their second biggest problem was they completely missed my entire point. Either that or they dismissed it altogether. In either case, 100% of what they said was inapplicable to the scenario. I was trying to speak to the 80% of artists who have 1,000 monthly listeners or less. They have over 60,000 monthly listeners. They tried to argue that they were once there, but with the dynamics of how quickly it’s changing today, they could start from 0 again and chances are they wouldn’t be nearly as successful as when they began 8 years ago.

The other point they were completely missing was what I meant when mentioning an artist’s return of investment. Working in finance, I tend to talk about money and numbers a lot because I am passionate about them. I am as passionate about numbers as I am music. I know it’s cringy, but I’m obsessed and have been ever since I was a child. I collected sports cards like many kids did growing up. Unlike most of those kids though, I would open a pack of cards and immediately flip it over to the back to start tracking the statistics of the athlete displayed on the front. I would compile them and make my own stats about the stats.

In this conversation, however, I didn’t refer to the expectation of a “half-ass” musician to get all of their investment back without putting in the same effort as the musicians who tirelessly pursue their goals. I was referring to ROI as the meaningful exchange between an artist and the listener. Would it mean more for them to open their artist app on Spotify and see that they had 20 listeners the day before and their songs were streamed 50 times, or would it mean more if they opened a Bandcamp artist app and saw one person bought their album and paid them $5 for it.

My opponent in this debate failed to make this connection. When I realized they were never going to get there, I threw in the towel. I have a lot of opinions about this kind of rhetoric that I will keep to myself because again, I’m not willing to stoop to their level. I even bought their deluxe vinyl and complemented them on their music (which I did listen to).

The Killshot

In the midst of our back and forth, I was trying to get this person to put themselves in the shoes of the artists I was trying to address in my post. I drew up a scenario for them and asked them what they would do. For any person in the world that had a shred of positivity or decency, they would have been able to connect the dots to the point I was trying to convey. This person, however stayed true to form and dealt two polarizing, either or choices: they said that the artist should either go all in or sell all of their gear and, essentially, give up.

I was later able to establish enough of a point that this person later stated there were exceptions for individuals pursuant of a hobby, though they still failed to fully make the connection to how I was trying to explore the best way for these artists to feel validated as musicians.

However, what they said lodged itself in my mind and the ticking bomb started to wind down…

Detonation

I am a positive person. My wife would tell you that’s true to a fault. I am rarely in a bad mood, I have nothing but glasses that are half full, and I lead with my passion.

I also have my share of demons. I fear failure more than anything. The litmus test I equate to failure is my father, who I loved. My father was an intelligent man, a loving man, and a very capable human being. One could argue his potential was magnificent. Yet, he left this world with a plethora of boxes he meant to check but didn’t. That scares the hell out of me.

It makes me question everything: I was in the army, I am a combat veteran. So are a lot of people and many of them did way more than I did while overseas. I did graduate from college Magna Cum Laude. I graduated from an online university and, truth be told, the curriculum did offer some challenges but I breezed through it. I also rode the very end of the bench of my community college’s basketball team more than two decades ago and have so much anxiety from trying to compete at that level that I detest the game of basketball to this day. Sports, for that matter. I’ll tell you everything you need to know about what happened in a play, all while in the middle of a great big eye roll.

And my famous interview answer is incomplete as well. Everything I said happened. But the truth is, I broke my leg upon landing from that jump. A partial inversion in my shoot caused me to descend from 1,200 feet in the air to hitting the ground in less than 30 seconds.

Imposter Syndrome

I did everything I said I did with music as well. But I was a greater service to those around me. I sang backing vocals and played in the band of one of my best friends. She played a showcase and signed a record deal. I have an ex girlfriend who appeared on the voice, hosts the Grand Ole Opry, and is a member of one of the more prominent country bands in the world. She has done world tours and gets to live out her dream every day. I have direct and personal connections to a plethora of artists, all the way up to Taylor Swift. And yes, that Bonnie Rait incident did happen, where she pretended to scold me and spank me back stage at a benefit concert.

That I didn’t get to play.

I Hear It, Trust Me

I know this sounds like a self-serving, self-pitying, historical rant of a privileged white man currently working in the financial industry who is crying about how it “isn’t fair that he didn’t make it in music.”

I don’t want to be a musician. If I did, I very well could have. Maybe that’s something I used to say I wanted, but my opponent was right. I can look back at all the forks in the roads of my life and I chose several things over music time and time again. There were times where I “fought my destiny.” There are times where I prioritized other things (sometimes even all other things). I think I spent a lot of time trying to be where I saw myself being rather than where I actually was.

They had me pegged in that regard. I didn’t give music the true effort that was necessary to have found success. But not everybody who was “meant to do something,” wants to do that thing. When the shoe was on the other foot, I used to antagonize people who had an incredible talent for something but lacked the passion to do it. With music, I didn’t see my own hypocrisy until it was too late. Now, in my 40’s, I’ve found a reignited passion for music. I still don’t want to “make it,” in the industry. I do, however seek those sentimental ROI’s that I discussed with my debate subject.

Even more than that, though, I feel like I stand for the hundreds of independent artists I have represented through Fifteen Minutes of Fame. Their stories, their motives, their drive is NOT my own. It’s ok to dismiss me. But it is NOT ok to diminish them.

Take it Back… To the Beginning

When I started this, I posed a challenge to our readers. I wanted to challenge the way we critically listened to music. I wanted to accomplish this because it was a way for listeners to learn to appreciate independent artists. I said that in my introductory articles.

And there is no greater example than Mr. OG Fifteen Minutes of Fame himself, LuisG, who currently sits at 10 monthly listeners on Spotify. If I were to simply listen to his album to criticize it for its technical performance, I would be doing Luis and myself a disservice. Technically, there are flaws in the album. I said as much in my original review. There are some timing issues, some pitch correction spots, and there are some other small things that can be heard through a listen of the album.

But when I close my eyes and picture myself on that giant piece of driftwood on a beach somewhere with a campfire going, people talking in the background and Luis sitting on the other side of the fire with his guitar in hand, telling us his story, I connect with the music. I can’t hear it any other way now.

Is This a House of Cards?

One narrow-minded comment shouldn’t dismantle everything I’ve done. I am a thick-skinned person. I used to be a bill collector! I got called everything except Jeff Thomas. And don’t get me started on needing thick skin in the army.

My opponent didn’t realize that they were an incredibly skilled marksman as they unknowingly released a shot that, with the precise timing it had, could cast a shroud of doubt on this entire mission I’ve dedicated myself to.

In the last year after launching Fifteen Minutes of Fame, I’ve featured artists throughout the world. I’ve launched a website. It’s been visited thousands of times. But, in looking deeper, now I see that maybe there’s not an investment in reading the reviews, watching the interviews or blind reactions. How much does anybody really care to read these articles. Every month, I post a monthly recap. At the very end of each of those articles, I post a test phrase. I can see that these articles have all been read several times. The test phrases, however, have been repeated less than 5 times over all.

Joining CAN! was a no brainer choice for me. This was the community I envisioned and Daniel has the drive to achieve it. But often times, the platform appears relatively stagnant. Not only do I not seem to get any reaction from my posts, but it’s not really moving for other posters either. These things take time, is what I normally say.

But the cloud of doubt just continues to thicken and spread.

I’ve been working on an album for 2 years now. I’m at THE END. This is a bucket list accomplishment too, because I want to do a physical release. To see my music on a record. Something I can give to my children. Something I can play for my wife. So she can hear these songs that I’ve written about just how amazing and perfect she is. But I can’t ever seem to finish it. What started as a Spring of 2025 release, now has been pushed back to the end of the year. I’m hoping for that. Every day that gets more questionable.

Is Bandcamp a platform that essentially tries to get us to “sell Ice to Eskimos,” so to speak? Are there just a bunch of independent artists there who are trying to market their music to a bunch of independent artists who are there for the same thing?

Last week, I released a video of a cover I recorded. When I played it for people, it got overwhelmingly positive feedback. So, I posted it. And posted it. And posted it. Every video was watched around 3 seconds, at the most. They couldn’t even say it was bad. They didn’t even watch it. Speaking on behalf of the people in the world who want to change the world, it feels deflating.

I sympathize with every artist who has the misfortune of feeling this sort of defeat. I think about my friend, and partner in crime, Daniel Grigson (aka Neccos for Breakfast). There are very few who will understand just how much he pours into the indie community. He also invests that energy into his Sprouts program. He is there for his friends, his family, and then somehow finds the time to work on his own music too. The only benefit he seeks is to be part of something great, something special. It takes a toll on him both mentally and physically. It is exhausting. I don’t know if I have ever told you thank you, Daniel. If I haven’t, shame on me.

Thank you.

Final Thoughts

I don’t do any of this for me. I do it for independent artists. Don’t thank me, thank them. Don’t congratulate me congratulate them. When I ask readers to leave comments, like the reviews, comment on social media posts, I don’t do that to benefit me. I do that because I want the artists to see people talking about their music. I know what it could do for them because I know what it would have done for me when I was a younger artist. Hell, I know how it would make me feel today.

I’ve never asked for money. That has never been my “ROI.” My ROI has always been to learn and discover and appreciate independent music and the artists who make it.

Go press play.