In a business as increasingly cynical as the record industry, the “tribute album” phenomenon might be the most cynical trend of all. After all, for what purpose other than to perhaps cover time-share fees for record-company executives might these records be released? However, such cynicism is not necessarily warranted?some recent tribute albums have been a pleasant artistic diversion.
To give a recent example, last year’s Timeless featured artists as diverse as Beck and Keith Richards giving their novel interpretations of songs written by country legend Hank Williams. When done correctly and with a modicum of respect, tribute records can serve as a interesting comment on an artist’s body of work.
However, these tasteful compilations have a drunk, ugly cousin: the many albums released by Vitamin Records of Los Angeles. Since 1998, Vitamin has specialized in albums comprised of songs by past and current popular performers, rendered sometimes in synthetic strings, sometimes in slick lounge or sometimes by incompetent garage bands unknown to even the most discriminating indie snob.
Despite the variety of treatments the label offers, Vitamin tributes have one thing in common: They are all terrible. Such terror falls into two categories: horrible songs covered horribly, and decent, even wonderful songs, covered horribly. While the former category can possess a certain novelty in its horror, when good songs are butchered, it borders on tragedy.
For an example that lies squarely in the former category, check out LBC Lounge: Tribute to Sublime. Novelty is the name of the game here: The cover of “What I Got” is a highlight, propelled by a Booker-T-&-the-MGs-esque organ intro. In fact, the bouncy take on “Santeria” might very well be an improvement on the original. Lush vibraphones and muted trumpet provide relaxing conversation fodder, if little else. While the arrangements might not be especially novel, at least the session players are competent and the tracks are well-produced.
The same holds for Transync: The Definitive Trance and House Tribute to *NSYNC. The unknown DJ Revolver has concocted this rather unnecessary melange of clich?s from the world of electronica. Over a relentless four-on-the-floor bass drum and trancey synths, female voices sing the hooks of the band’s numerous pop hits for nearly 50 uninterrupted minutes. Like the Sublime tribute, it is undeniably awful music, but it is innocuous in its awfulness. No one was hurt in the recording of these songs, no one’s artistic reputation sullied. Is it superfluous? Definitely. Is it malicious? Not really.
However, for an example of the malice Vitamin Records can perpetuate, one needs to look no further than The Cocktail Tribute to Nirvana. The opening track, “Rape Me,” features computerized MIDI instrumentation so cheesy, one must wonder if the producers even bothered to locate a fairly modern computer to maim this once-stirring track. The credited arranger/performer, Karel Marik, succeeds in turning a song of great rage and despair into fine elevator music?kudos to that.
“In Bloom,” performed by one Gringo Floyd, offers little improvement. To any Nirvana fan, Kurt Cobain’s lyrics will mockingly dance in your consciousness as a Herb Alpert-style Tijuana trumpet carries the chorus’ melody?”But he knows not what it means … ” The omission of Cobain’s lyrics is questionable enough, but ridiculing the band’s blustery guitar crunch with a panoply of stock computer-generated effects and electric pianos is downright disrespectful. A note on the back of the album demonstrates just how glib Vitamin is in its disrespect: “Nirvana’s fiercy independent anthems hold firm and go down smooth as these supreme artists give unique and classy interpretations.” Quite simply, this is music not meant to “go down smooth,” yet this album wears it as a badge of honor. For shame.
The transcendent dreadfulness of Vitamin Records is well documented, but questions remain?What drives such this phenomenon? Who makes these records? Who is buying this dreck? For these answers, we turn to Vitamin itself.
Sandee Curry, a project manager for Vitamin, described the making of a typical tribute album. Concepts for Vitamin releases spring from the minds of label execs. “We’re constantly coming up with ideas,” said Curry. After the label decides on an idea, it hires a producer, who is given total creative license. “We give the producer total artistic control,” noted Curr. “We’re pretty unique in that respect.”
After the producer is hired, it is up to him or her to recruit the talent. According to Curry, a deep admiration, or for that matter, prior knowledge of a band’s work is not neccessary to play on a Vitamin tribute. Once the album is recorded, 5,000 copies are pressed and sent to record stores and online retailers.
As for the relationship between the original artist and Vitamin, it is purely monetary. No input is sought from the artist on the propriety of the tribute. Licensing fees are paid to songwriters’ organizations such as ASCAP or BMI, as well as artists’ representatives, such as the Harry Fox Agency. Though alternatives exist if an artist balks at licensing songs for rerecording, in the majority of cases, Vitamin leaves well enough alone and drops the idea. Said Curry, “If they don’t want to pay licensing [fees], we don’t pursue it … we don’t want to tick anybody off.”
In spite of the royalities, releasing a Vitamin tribute usually costs less than $10,000, according to Curry. While she was reluctant to discuss sales figures, more popular releases have gone into multiple pressings. With such a small investment, it is quite easy to make a tidy profit with limited distribution and minimal sales.
Among the most popular recent Vitamin releases have been Strung Out on OK Computer and Third Eye Open: The String Quartet Tribute to Tool. To whom are these albums marketed? To the fans of the original artists, of course. Vitamin reaches their audience by directing retailers to place its records with the subject of the tribute. LBC Lounge, for example, comes with a sticker reading “File Under Sublime.” According to Curry, for the most part, response from fans has been overwhelmingly positive. However, she noted that a few disgruntled fans have registered their disgust. “[They say] ‘how could you destroy the sanctity of my band?’” she said.
If not to defend bands’ sanctity, is Vitamin just in it for the money? “That’s not how we look at it at all,” responded Curry. When asked whether Vitamin tributes were a cynical phenomenon, Curry was quick to defend the professionalism and musicianship of those involved in Vitamin releases. “It’s pretty quality stuff … it’s not like we put out a bunch of crap.”
It’s too bad she’s dead wrong.
