Post by DazedOblivion on Sept 18, 2005 16:19:24 GMT 1
I found this article posted:
The big article in the Irish Independent....
18-Sep-2005 13:43:01
CorrBoard Time:
18-Sep-2005 14:59:06
Star family rocks the world stage
ANDREA, Caroline, Sharon and Jim Corr are Dundalk's answer to the Jackson Five, without the weird bits. Formed 15 years ago, following Alan Parker's hit movie The Commitments, the Corrs are one of the biggest-selling Irish acts on the international stage. One unofficial estimate suggests that with at least 30m albums sold, the Corrs are the joint 240th-biggest act of all time. Well ahead of Jimi Hendrix but a sliver behind J-Lo.
Rule one when meeting someone who really, really doesn't want to be interviewed is not to stand on their new puppy. Shrieks and yelping accompany my entrance into the Corrs' manager John Hughes's kitchen and we haven't even said hello yet.
There are uncertain times ahead, as the Corrs are in the middle of negotiating a new record deal, which may spark interest from rival music companies. The band is currently signed to the Warner Music Group but time is ticking down on that accord. "It's horse trading," says Hughes of record deal negotiations generally. "If you've better lawyers and accountants, you horse-trade better," he says, turning down the sound on the TV in his living room. We're going to watch the end of the Ashes.
Hughes was a useful mid-order batsman in his day. Cricket at Railway Union in Sandymount and school at Belvedere were the hallmarks of a comfortable south Dublin upbringing. The business smarts came from working in the family drapery shop in Capel Street, although he had to juggle that with rugby and performing in a pop group. "You'd get punched playing rugby and they'd say you can't go on stage like that," he recalls. "But rock 'n' roll ultimately won out."
While rock 'n' roll pays the bills, rugby hasn't gone away. Hughes was a flying winger at Old Belvedere for a couple of seasons. He is great pals with legendary Irish out-half Ollie Campbell and goes to watch Munster matches with Riverdance's Bill Whelan. It even spills over into the Corrs' tour scheduling. "We were big in everywhere that had a good rugby team," he jokes.
But he's dead serious about music. Has been since he was 12. Hughes was a rock 'n' roller or rather and electro-popper in his own right. "Most bands don't make it. And I was in those bands," he smiles. His most successful group, Minor Detail, was one of only two Irish acts ever to have been signed direct to a US label. When his keyboard player left, a fresh-faced Jim Corr got the job. However, as Minor Detail was imploding, Hughes was asked by his friend to put together some bands to audition for Alan Parker's movie The Commitments, which was filming in Dublin. Jim asked if he could bring his sisters along. You may recognise them.
After The Commitments, Hughes was persuaded to manage the band. "I figured it takes 10 years. If you do it in seven you've bucked the trend. We did that," he adds. "It took five years to get a record deal. They were long years. The wilderness years."
It was all about ducking and diving in those days. Having failed to get signed in the UK, Hughes took the Corrs to the US. The Corrs' brand of catchy diddly-eye pop didn't fit into any neat music boxes. "It was challenging, to say the least. We spent most of our time explaining what a bodhran was," he says. Irish people just drank Guinness, wrote poems and fought back then. This was before Riverdance. Hughes stalked Michael Jackson's record producer, eventually bluffing his way into a quick meeting. Whatever about the music, Andrea Corr and the gang certainly made an instant impression. They were snapped up tout de suite.
Clearly hotter than the sun in hot pants and with a catchy line in Gaelic pop, the Corrs got some breaks but they also made their own luck. After The Commitments, US Ambassador Jean Kennedy Smith was dragged to a Corrs concert in the Dublin music venue Whelan's by Hughes. The Kennedy imprimatur led to an invitation to play in the 1994 US World Cup celebrations in Boston. A hit album soon followed.
"There were big moments. Like when we did the Albert Hall. We were virtually unknown. Lots of Irish bands play the Albert Hall but we gave it a very special show," he adds. Having realised the global audience for all things green on St Patrick's Day, Hughes persuaded the BBC to broadcast a Corrs performance from the venue in 1998. It was picked up around the world. The bandwagon was certainly moving. Slowly.
"It took us years to sell a million records, even after we'd been signed," admits Hughes, pausing to roar at Kevin Pietersen's innings. "It's always been a slow burn. They don't sell singles. There's only been one No 1. But having said that, there have been ten Top 10 hits. If you hang around in the Top 10 for four or five weeks you're going to sell albums," he says. And that's what the Corrs have done. Shedloads of them. Hughes won't talk numbers.
The Corrs have shifted more than 30m albums worldwide, according to a variety of industry estimates. Even accounting for inflation and different global pricing structures, the band must have generated something close to €500m in high-street sales, split between retailers, distributors, record labels, advisers and the Corrs themselves.
So how rich are the Corrs? How long is a piece of string? Tax breaks under the artists' exemption scheme, introduced by Charles Haughey, are now under review. Hughes plays down its impact on the Corrs. "We make our money all over the world. We don't make much here. If we were dependent on what we make domestically, we wouldn't be the Corrs, we'd just be a local band," he says. "I wouldn't like it all spun around, a spin that says pampered, multimillionaires, creaming it off here and not giving it back. That's not how it works. The majority here don't cream it off."
In fact Arts Council figures suggest that the vast majority of the people qualifying under the scheme only earn €5,000 per year. However, on the flip side, 50 per cent of the whole income generated is actually earned by just two per cent of the artists.
"If you are fortunate enough to be big, you probably don't make your money here. I don't know whether it has any bearing on the issue but nobody is taking anyone else's money," he says. Hughes suggests that bands like the Corrs have had a major impact in spreading a positive image of Ireland abroad. It's like Bord Failte in short skirts. "Don't underestimate the goodwill that success brings abroad," he says.
Certainly record sales abroad have been something spectacular. Talk on Corners was the biggest UK album in 1998, selling about 9m copies, with all the other albums going multi-platinum (platinum = 1m sales). The Corrs have traditionally been stronger in Europe and Asia than in the US. Official RIAA figures for the tricky US market show that the In Blue album broke the 1m sales barrier, with Talk on Corners and Forgiven Not Forgotten both gold (500,000 albums) certified. The most recent album, Borrowed Heaven,didn't perform as strongly, falling out of the Billboard 200 in three weeks but generating an estimated 1.5m sales worldwide.
A new album is pencilled in for release in coming weeks.
'We did a private audience for the Pope and then six weeks later we opened for the Rolling Stones. Not many bands can do both'
The album, Home, is a selection of Irish songs, which seems unlikely to have the same commercial appeal as some of the other mainstream studio records. "It wasn't planned but it was something we decided to do," admits Hughes.
Detailed forward planning is simply not an option in the rock 'n' roll business. "The problem with show business is that it's an emotional journey. When the band come off tour, it's like an army after a campaign. They're completely wiped, everybody has had enough. Months can pass by before the music starts to come back," he says.
The Corrs' financial advisers must tear their hair out trying to get the band to be more commercial. "Great artists are followed by accountants and lawyers and not led by them," he says. With U2 landing a reputed $20m worth of marketing support from Apple's iPod campaign and acts such as Moby providing music for anything from instant coffee to Baileys, bands are now milking the advertising world for ancillary revenues. "We sell music, we aren't really into selling crisps or anything like that," Hughes admits.
The Corrs turned down a crisp jingle but have done a Pepsi and Lloyds Bank campaign. "We've been offered lots of things but we keep saying no." Hughes suggests that he puts too high a price on endorsements. "I always think we could get five times the amount. So my value for them far exceeds the market value," he laughs.
Touring is a lucrative but tough way to make money. But it's something the Corrs do well. "There was more demand for tickets at the end of the last tour than there ever has been. If they went now they'd probably be bigger than they've ever been in terms of the European market, Australia, Southeast Asia and even Africa," he says. It's not clear whether the Corrs will tour with the new album. "There isn't a tour planned and there isn't one not planned. It's not going to happen next week," he says vaguely. "What was I talking about again?" The cricket is taking over.
The Corrs have been around the world more times than Superman. "The work ethic is second to none. That's how they got the reputation for being one of the hardest-working bands out there. and we all have the jet lag to prove it," he recalls. It's how you sell albums. "You don't depend on markets, you have to develop new ones, as first-time buyers don't always come back."
The band have played everywhere from tiny venues to huge festivals and the recent Live 8. "It ranges from the JFK aircraft carrier to the Rovers Return on Coronation Street to the Vatican, Capitol Hill and the White House, and Nelson Mandela's private party," he notes. "We did a private audience for the Pope and then six weeks later we opened for the Rolling Stones. It's quite a step. Not many bands can do both or would be allowed do both."
While sales of the last album lagged behind earlier offerings, the band still has a gang of chords left to strum and tin whistles to toot. But with band members being married off or having kids, there's bound to be a certain amount of speculation over the future of the group. "Who knows? Caroline Corr is always saying that I'll have them at it when they're 50. But I think we're realistic. I suppose it'll continue as long as they want it to. Up to a point," he says.
In coming weeks, sales of the new album will go a long way to providing an answer to that question.
The nice Georgian pile out in the 'burbs with the big pink Smeg fridge in the kitchen suggests that Hughes is doing just fine. But he's got a few nixers on the go too. The Dubliner released an album of his own music last year and he scored an unlikely hit with the musical Monks of Roscrea. Hughes has also taken young singer Tara Blaise under his wing, through his own record label. "The industry will admit that they'll take my calls and listen to my presentation," he says. "But they're still as reluctant as ever to sign anyone." Luckily Hughes has never taken no for an answer.
Nick Webb
Source: Irish Independent
The big article in the Irish Independent....
18-Sep-2005 13:43:01
CorrBoard Time:
18-Sep-2005 14:59:06
Star family rocks the world stage
ANDREA, Caroline, Sharon and Jim Corr are Dundalk's answer to the Jackson Five, without the weird bits. Formed 15 years ago, following Alan Parker's hit movie The Commitments, the Corrs are one of the biggest-selling Irish acts on the international stage. One unofficial estimate suggests that with at least 30m albums sold, the Corrs are the joint 240th-biggest act of all time. Well ahead of Jimi Hendrix but a sliver behind J-Lo.
Rule one when meeting someone who really, really doesn't want to be interviewed is not to stand on their new puppy. Shrieks and yelping accompany my entrance into the Corrs' manager John Hughes's kitchen and we haven't even said hello yet.
There are uncertain times ahead, as the Corrs are in the middle of negotiating a new record deal, which may spark interest from rival music companies. The band is currently signed to the Warner Music Group but time is ticking down on that accord. "It's horse trading," says Hughes of record deal negotiations generally. "If you've better lawyers and accountants, you horse-trade better," he says, turning down the sound on the TV in his living room. We're going to watch the end of the Ashes.
Hughes was a useful mid-order batsman in his day. Cricket at Railway Union in Sandymount and school at Belvedere were the hallmarks of a comfortable south Dublin upbringing. The business smarts came from working in the family drapery shop in Capel Street, although he had to juggle that with rugby and performing in a pop group. "You'd get punched playing rugby and they'd say you can't go on stage like that," he recalls. "But rock 'n' roll ultimately won out."
While rock 'n' roll pays the bills, rugby hasn't gone away. Hughes was a flying winger at Old Belvedere for a couple of seasons. He is great pals with legendary Irish out-half Ollie Campbell and goes to watch Munster matches with Riverdance's Bill Whelan. It even spills over into the Corrs' tour scheduling. "We were big in everywhere that had a good rugby team," he jokes.
But he's dead serious about music. Has been since he was 12. Hughes was a rock 'n' roller or rather and electro-popper in his own right. "Most bands don't make it. And I was in those bands," he smiles. His most successful group, Minor Detail, was one of only two Irish acts ever to have been signed direct to a US label. When his keyboard player left, a fresh-faced Jim Corr got the job. However, as Minor Detail was imploding, Hughes was asked by his friend to put together some bands to audition for Alan Parker's movie The Commitments, which was filming in Dublin. Jim asked if he could bring his sisters along. You may recognise them.
After The Commitments, Hughes was persuaded to manage the band. "I figured it takes 10 years. If you do it in seven you've bucked the trend. We did that," he adds. "It took five years to get a record deal. They were long years. The wilderness years."
It was all about ducking and diving in those days. Having failed to get signed in the UK, Hughes took the Corrs to the US. The Corrs' brand of catchy diddly-eye pop didn't fit into any neat music boxes. "It was challenging, to say the least. We spent most of our time explaining what a bodhran was," he says. Irish people just drank Guinness, wrote poems and fought back then. This was before Riverdance. Hughes stalked Michael Jackson's record producer, eventually bluffing his way into a quick meeting. Whatever about the music, Andrea Corr and the gang certainly made an instant impression. They were snapped up tout de suite.
Clearly hotter than the sun in hot pants and with a catchy line in Gaelic pop, the Corrs got some breaks but they also made their own luck. After The Commitments, US Ambassador Jean Kennedy Smith was dragged to a Corrs concert in the Dublin music venue Whelan's by Hughes. The Kennedy imprimatur led to an invitation to play in the 1994 US World Cup celebrations in Boston. A hit album soon followed.
"There were big moments. Like when we did the Albert Hall. We were virtually unknown. Lots of Irish bands play the Albert Hall but we gave it a very special show," he adds. Having realised the global audience for all things green on St Patrick's Day, Hughes persuaded the BBC to broadcast a Corrs performance from the venue in 1998. It was picked up around the world. The bandwagon was certainly moving. Slowly.
"It took us years to sell a million records, even after we'd been signed," admits Hughes, pausing to roar at Kevin Pietersen's innings. "It's always been a slow burn. They don't sell singles. There's only been one No 1. But having said that, there have been ten Top 10 hits. If you hang around in the Top 10 for four or five weeks you're going to sell albums," he says. And that's what the Corrs have done. Shedloads of them. Hughes won't talk numbers.
The Corrs have shifted more than 30m albums worldwide, according to a variety of industry estimates. Even accounting for inflation and different global pricing structures, the band must have generated something close to €500m in high-street sales, split between retailers, distributors, record labels, advisers and the Corrs themselves.
So how rich are the Corrs? How long is a piece of string? Tax breaks under the artists' exemption scheme, introduced by Charles Haughey, are now under review. Hughes plays down its impact on the Corrs. "We make our money all over the world. We don't make much here. If we were dependent on what we make domestically, we wouldn't be the Corrs, we'd just be a local band," he says. "I wouldn't like it all spun around, a spin that says pampered, multimillionaires, creaming it off here and not giving it back. That's not how it works. The majority here don't cream it off."
In fact Arts Council figures suggest that the vast majority of the people qualifying under the scheme only earn €5,000 per year. However, on the flip side, 50 per cent of the whole income generated is actually earned by just two per cent of the artists.
"If you are fortunate enough to be big, you probably don't make your money here. I don't know whether it has any bearing on the issue but nobody is taking anyone else's money," he says. Hughes suggests that bands like the Corrs have had a major impact in spreading a positive image of Ireland abroad. It's like Bord Failte in short skirts. "Don't underestimate the goodwill that success brings abroad," he says.
Certainly record sales abroad have been something spectacular. Talk on Corners was the biggest UK album in 1998, selling about 9m copies, with all the other albums going multi-platinum (platinum = 1m sales). The Corrs have traditionally been stronger in Europe and Asia than in the US. Official RIAA figures for the tricky US market show that the In Blue album broke the 1m sales barrier, with Talk on Corners and Forgiven Not Forgotten both gold (500,000 albums) certified. The most recent album, Borrowed Heaven,didn't perform as strongly, falling out of the Billboard 200 in three weeks but generating an estimated 1.5m sales worldwide.
A new album is pencilled in for release in coming weeks.
'We did a private audience for the Pope and then six weeks later we opened for the Rolling Stones. Not many bands can do both'
The album, Home, is a selection of Irish songs, which seems unlikely to have the same commercial appeal as some of the other mainstream studio records. "It wasn't planned but it was something we decided to do," admits Hughes.
Detailed forward planning is simply not an option in the rock 'n' roll business. "The problem with show business is that it's an emotional journey. When the band come off tour, it's like an army after a campaign. They're completely wiped, everybody has had enough. Months can pass by before the music starts to come back," he says.
The Corrs' financial advisers must tear their hair out trying to get the band to be more commercial. "Great artists are followed by accountants and lawyers and not led by them," he says. With U2 landing a reputed $20m worth of marketing support from Apple's iPod campaign and acts such as Moby providing music for anything from instant coffee to Baileys, bands are now milking the advertising world for ancillary revenues. "We sell music, we aren't really into selling crisps or anything like that," Hughes admits.
The Corrs turned down a crisp jingle but have done a Pepsi and Lloyds Bank campaign. "We've been offered lots of things but we keep saying no." Hughes suggests that he puts too high a price on endorsements. "I always think we could get five times the amount. So my value for them far exceeds the market value," he laughs.
Touring is a lucrative but tough way to make money. But it's something the Corrs do well. "There was more demand for tickets at the end of the last tour than there ever has been. If they went now they'd probably be bigger than they've ever been in terms of the European market, Australia, Southeast Asia and even Africa," he says. It's not clear whether the Corrs will tour with the new album. "There isn't a tour planned and there isn't one not planned. It's not going to happen next week," he says vaguely. "What was I talking about again?" The cricket is taking over.
The Corrs have been around the world more times than Superman. "The work ethic is second to none. That's how they got the reputation for being one of the hardest-working bands out there. and we all have the jet lag to prove it," he recalls. It's how you sell albums. "You don't depend on markets, you have to develop new ones, as first-time buyers don't always come back."
The band have played everywhere from tiny venues to huge festivals and the recent Live 8. "It ranges from the JFK aircraft carrier to the Rovers Return on Coronation Street to the Vatican, Capitol Hill and the White House, and Nelson Mandela's private party," he notes. "We did a private audience for the Pope and then six weeks later we opened for the Rolling Stones. It's quite a step. Not many bands can do both or would be allowed do both."
While sales of the last album lagged behind earlier offerings, the band still has a gang of chords left to strum and tin whistles to toot. But with band members being married off or having kids, there's bound to be a certain amount of speculation over the future of the group. "Who knows? Caroline Corr is always saying that I'll have them at it when they're 50. But I think we're realistic. I suppose it'll continue as long as they want it to. Up to a point," he says.
In coming weeks, sales of the new album will go a long way to providing an answer to that question.
The nice Georgian pile out in the 'burbs with the big pink Smeg fridge in the kitchen suggests that Hughes is doing just fine. But he's got a few nixers on the go too. The Dubliner released an album of his own music last year and he scored an unlikely hit with the musical Monks of Roscrea. Hughes has also taken young singer Tara Blaise under his wing, through his own record label. "The industry will admit that they'll take my calls and listen to my presentation," he says. "But they're still as reluctant as ever to sign anyone." Luckily Hughes has never taken no for an answer.
Nick Webb
Source: Irish Independent
