Indonesian music artists sing copyrights blues

By Yenni Kwok

JAKARTA (JP): When singer-songwriter Oppie Andaresta composes a soon-to-be hit song, chances are she will not make much of a profit from it.

Like other Indonesian songwriters, Oppie usually sells her songs to her recording company for a set price. By doing so, she gets to keep the copyright for her creative works but not the royalty.

"Most songwriters want to get money fast," she said. "They are concerned with composing songs and filling their stomachs."

After receiving the one-off payment, songwriters need not go hungry because their payoff is unrelated to the number of copies of their albums which are sold.

The drawback: if their albums or songs become a hit the songwriters will not gain anything.

They have lost the right to duplicate their songs and also the right to royalties.

A royalty is part of an artist's economic rights, according to Candra Darusman, the secretary-general of Yayasan Karya Cipta Indonesia.

But, when songwriters strike a flat-rate deal with the recording companies, they lose these economic rights.

"With flat rates, copyrights belong to the songwriters, but the economical rights are transferred to the producers or recording companies," Candra said.

True, the recording companies often give their artists bonuses, such as an extra amount for each cassette sold.

A songwriter who sells a song for Rp 5 million would be lucky to get Rp 100 for each cassette sold.

Not much indeed.

Also, bonuses are only temporary, a one-off gain. Royalties, on the other hand, generate income for songwriters through their careers and even after their deaths.

"Although we have become old like Koes Plus, with mechanical rights, we still get royalties," Oppie said.

According to Candra, flat rates for songs also signify artists' weak bargaining position. They tend to lose out to the recording companies.

These companies are often suspected of not disclosing the accurate figure of how many cassettes are sold. The fewer cassettes "sold", the less royalty money they must dish out.

"The biggest problem is monitoring how many of our cassettes have been bought," Oppie said. "We need an independent body to monitor this.

"It could happen that they have sold 100,000 copies, but they say only 50,000."

She answered "no" when asked if she trusted her own recording company's figure.

Candra acknowledged the lack of commercial checks and balances. In Malaysia or the Philippines, where flat rates are also common, the music industry already has a good system for paying royalties or controlling the sales figures.

They even have publishers, companies that are willing to publish songs. They also offer new songs to recording companies, reducing their task to only manufacturing cassettes.

There are already some publishers in Indonesia -- such as BMG Publisher and Pertiwi Music Publisher -- but they were established by recording companies and are therefore not completely independent.

Are these publishers merely an extension of the recording companies and represent their interests? Candra shrugged and gave a careful, ambiguous answer: "It could be yes, could be no."

Piracy

Although artists and recording companies may be at odds with each other over mechanical rights or royalty issues, they are unified when it comes to piracy issues.

A violation of copyright, hurts both artists and companies. It is a familiar topic and one that has been discussed ad nauseam. The laws are being tightened but, in reality, this does not seem to matter. Piracy is still rampant.

"Piracy has a high profit level," Candra said. "It fits the business philosophy: the risk may be big but, because the profits are very high, they do it."

Copyright violation is considered a criminal act. The penalty is a maximum of seven-years imprisonment or a Rp 100 million fine.

Some local artists, such as Emha Ainun Najib and Franky Sahilatua, have had their works pirated.

Since October, Emha's album Tombo Hati (Medicine for the Heart), which Franky produced, has enjoyed big success with 140,000 copies already sold.

However, that only signifies the authorized version of the album's sales figures. Many more copies of the pirated version are also being sold.

Nobody knows just how many of the pirated Tombo Hati albums are around.

However, ASIRI (Indonesia Recording Industry Association) estimates that the sale of pirated products constitutes 9 percent of annual industry sales. Each year, industry sales may reach Rp 400 billion.

Franky said he was one of the first people to buy the pirated Tombo Hati.

"The overall quality (of the pirated album) is lower than the original version. The sound quality has dropped. The cover isn't as good because it was reproduced from another album cover."

Yet, many people still buy the inferior-quality pirate tapes. Both Franky and Emha agreed price is the reason.

Not everyone can afford to buy the Rp 8,000 original cassette. To hear their favorites, they turn instead to pirate tapes which retail for between Rp 3,000 and Rp 4,000.

Dilemma

"When I saw who bought the pirate tapes, I forgave them," said Emha, a poet and prominent Moslem figure. "They can't afford to buy standard-priced tapes. It is a dilemma."

Franky too said he was sympathetic towards the lower class people. However, he thinks that does not justify the reason of piracy.

He suggested: "It would be better if we can have two album versions. One is sold for the standard price, the other one is cheaper.

"However, it should be the original producers that produce the tapes. Not the illegal ones, who only need Rp 8,000 to produce something."

Like other music artists, both Emha and Franky are reluctant to take legal action against the piracy of their works. They are pessimistic that doing so will be counter-productive.

"The process is too fussy," Emha said. "Forget about copyrights. If we lost a bike, we sometimes have to pay the police to find it. And, the cost can be more expensive than the bike."

Franky once joined ASIRI for a joint-court action against piracy, but he said he would not do it again. "Ten years ago, those pirates were around. Ten years from now, I am sure, they will be around. What's the purpose of going to the court?" he said cynically.

Candra acknowledged the artists' reluctance to fight against piracy in the legal path. "They have rights to bring the case to the court, but they perhaps can't afford to hire a lawyer."

Quoting a lyric from his soon-to-be-released song, Keroncong Belasungkawa (Song of Condolences), Franky expressed the artists' hopelessness: We wish to submit/But, why does it turn to be difficult, dear?/Why is life this such?

Ironically, Franky seems to sing an early condolences song. Most likely, this song, which he cowrote with singer Iwan Fals, will end up being pirated as well.