Chuck Miller on the first controversial hit recording using samples of other songs:

[I]n June 1956, [Dickie] Goodman came up with an idea. “Bill Buchanan and I were writing some songs at the time,” said Goodman in a print interview, “trying to break into the business. We were sitting around and suddenly we got an idea. How would it be if we had a disc jockey show being interrupted by reports of a flying saucer – THE FLYING SAUCERS ARE REAL! – and suddenly the Platters line (from “The Great Pretender”) came to me – ‘Too real when I feel what my heart can’t conceal’ and we said ‘Hey!’ and we didn’t know any better so we put the thing together.”

Within a few days, Goodman and Buchanan spliced together a four-minute reworking of Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds” radio broadcast. Goodman played “John Cameron Cameron,” an unflappable reporter interviewing people, officials and even the Martians themselves. Buchanan was heard as a title-mangling disc jockey (allegedly based on Alan Freed), who interrupted a Nappy Brown dance number with news of an invasion from Mars.

Buchanan: We interrupt this record to bring you a special bulletin. The reports of a flying saucer hovering over the city have been confirmed. The flying saucers are real!

Radio:Too real, when I feel, what my heart can’t conceal… (from the Platters’ “The Great Pretender”)

Buchanan: That was the Clatters’ recording, “Too Real!”

And that set the pattern. Goodman would interview eyewitnesses about the spaceship, whose responses were the lyrics of popular songs.

Goodman: This is John Cameron Cameron downtown. Pardon me madam, would you tell our audience what would you do if the saucer were to land?

Witness: Duck back in the alley (from Little Richard’s “Long Tall Sally”) . . .

The record continued. While the flying saucer landed on Earth, Buchanan and Goodman greeted its arrival with more splices, in-jokes and primitive technical wizardry.

Goodman: This is John Cameron Cameron on the spot. And now I believe we’re about to hear the words of the first spaceman ever to land on earth.

Martian: “A WOP BOP A LOO MOP A LOP BAM BOOM” (from Little Richard’s “Tutti-Frutti”) . . .

The duo shopped their pastiche to every record label in New York. Nobody was interested; many record execs dismissed the recording as a cheap “sampler.” Undaunted, they took the tape to radio station WINS, where disc jockey Jack Lacy agreed to play it. He gave the song a couple of airings, then let the next DJ – Alan Freed – play the track during his show.

Meanwhile, Buchanan and Goodman visited George Goldner, a producer at Roulette Records. In a print interview with Art Fein, Goodman remembers that meeting. “We were in George’s office, but before we got a chance to play our record, one of his salesmen burst in and asked if anybody knew about a record that was played on WINS the night before – something about Elvis Presley and spacemen. Everybody in town wanted it. George took it on immediately.”

* * *

Although the record was an immediate hit in New York, it took a couple of weeks for the rest of the country to catch on. The NBC and ABC radio networks initially banned the song, because they didn’t want any listeners misunderstanding the gag record as an actual announcement of an invasion. Other parts of the country couldn’t get their hands on the record fast enough. In Cleveland, for example, the record was so scarce that stores were charging customers as much as $1.75 for each copy.

Meanwhile, the Music Publishers Protective Association, through the offices of its trustee, the Harry Fox Agency, claimed “The Flying Saucer” was guilty of at least 19 different instances of copyright infringement and unauthorized usages. “If we can’t stop this,” said one record insider to Billboard, “nothing is safe in our business.”

“No industry exec believes [Buchanan and Goodman] have a leg to stand on in their use of copyrighted material and other disk artists without permission,” said an unnamed source to Variety.

But although the record companies publicly moaned and wrung their hands over the issue, they initially let the publishing houses go after Buchanan and Goodman for copyright infringement, rather than litigate the matter themselves. Part of the reason may have been because “The Flying Saucer” actually increased sales of records included in its collage. For example, because a snippet of “Earth Angel” was part of “The Flying Saucer,” requests for the Penguins song forced DooTone Records to reissue their hit. As an unidentified publishing representative told Time magazine, “It’s the greatest sampler of all. If you’re not on ‘Saucer,’ you’re nowhere!”

Some record company executives questioned whether Buchanan and Goodman actually infringed on any rights at all. The fragments were all part of ASCAP’s and BMI’s libraries, and Buchanan and Goodman’s lawyers argued that the question was really whether “The Flying Saucer” contained any material that wasn’t part of those two libraries. One record exec told Variety that he was ready to forget the whole business and just let the record run its course. Another industry lawyer said that because of all the publicity this case received, he didn’t think anybody would dare make another “snippet” record for at least another decade.

After much negotiation among all parties, an agreement was finally reached. The publishing houses would split 17 cents in royalties from every 89 cent copy of “The Flying Saucer” – approximately 1 cent for each publisher per disc sold. Buchanan and Goodman could still sell their single, and the song was finally cleared for jukeboxes and radio airplay.

By August 15, 1956, “The Flying Saucer” had sold 500,000 copies in three weeks, and was a regional #1 hit in Pittsburgh, Louisville and Cleveland. By the end of August, “The Flying Saucer” had doubled those sales figures, and climbed as high as #3 in Billboard’s and Variety’s national sales charts, just behind Elvis Presley’s two-sided hit “Don’t Be Cruel”/”Hound Dog” and the Platters’ “My Prayer.” In some cities, “The Flying Saucer” actually beat Elvis for a few weeks in sales and local airplay. Jukebox owners purchased three or four copies of “The Flying Saucer” for their businesses – and a couple extra for themselves. Disc jockeys loved the song, and began working on “break-in” collages of their own.

Some of those “break-in” records actually made it to disc – many of them while “The Flying Saucer” was flying up the charts. . . .

The publishing houses were furious. Instead of “break-in” records stopping, now they were multiplying like weeds in a garden. In an attempt to limit the production of new “break-in” records, the publishing houses demanded an increase from the standard two-cent royalty for each song used, to eight cents per song from each of the new “break-in” discs!

Many of the smaller companies simply gave up. . . . Plus Records . . . pressed 53,955 copies of an Elvis-themed “break-in” record, “Dear Elvis, With Love From Audrey” . . . , but could sell only 30,000 copies before the increased royalty rate was assessed. As part of a settlement agreement, Plus Records turned over the master of “Dear Elvis” to the publishing houses, who promptly destroyed the master.

In November 1956, Buchanan and Goodman began work on their second single, “Buchanan and Goodman on Trial” (Luniverse 102), a “break-in” record satirizing their experience in the courtroom. With Little Richard as their defense attorney and a jury full of Martians acquitting the “break-in” duo of all charges, “Buchanan and Goodman on Trial” became both a moderate hit and a not-so-veiled jab at the legal system.

This time the record companies fought back. Four record labels – Imperial, Aristocrat, Modern and Chess – along with two performers, Fats Domino and Overton Lemon (Smiley Lewis), filed suit in New York District Court for an injunction against all Buchanan and Goodman recordings, as well as $130,000 in compensatory and punitive damages. They also wanted 6 cents per single for use of such songs as “Ain’t That A Shame,” “Maybelline,” “I Hear You Knocking” and “Hard to Tell” on the two Luniverse singles. Two publishing companies, Commodore Music and Arc Music, joined in the suit, both refusing Luniverse’s original penny-per-sample out-of-court settlement from the first trial.

During the trial, Saul Goodman, Dickie Goodman’s father and co- counsel for the defendants, brought a copy of “The Flying Saucer” into the courtroom as Exhibit A. “My grandfather took it up to the judge,” said Jon Goodman,” and he asked the judge to take it home and listen to it. At first the judge didn’t want to do it, but he went ahead and did it.”

The next day, judge Henry Clay Greenberg denied the injunction, writing in his decision: “The defendants [Buchanan and Goodman] artfully and cleverly have devised interesting novelty records which make use of portions of records of successful performers under exclusive contract with the plaintiffs and others … In this highly competitive industry, the fruits of labor may be gathered in or lost quickly … Undoubtedly some considerable value attaches to the portions of the plaintiffs’ records which have been adopted by the defendants … the court is not able to determine whether or not the defendants have exceeded the bounds of permissible fair competition … A temporary injunction ought not to issue in a case unless the offense is clear.”

“The judge later said that the “Flying Saucer” was a satire, a parody, a new work – a burlesque, in effect – and there was no reason to charge Luniverse with violation of anybody’s copyright,” said Jon Goodman. “There were out of court settlements – they arranged clearances for the publishing houses and whatever. My father made the Harry Fox Agency, which was in charge of collecting mechanicals and royalties, a more interesting organization to work with.”

* * *

In fact, Goodman’s snippet records may have been the rock equivalent of the compositions of John Cage, David Tudor and George Rochberg – using tape recorders and phonograph records as instruments, slicing up reel-to-reel tapes and resplicing them at random; creating new recordings from the fragments of old ones. It was the music of indeterminacy, as Luciano Berio composed “Sinfonia” by quoting from a Mahler symphony and fragments of a theatrical production. It was new uses for old technology, as Ferrante and Teicher plucked the wires of a “prepared piano” for a harp-like sound. Music barriers were being torn down, as Edgard Varese’s aural symphonies influenced the work of Frank Zappa; and as Karl-Heinz Stockhausen’s electronic compositions left an indelible imprint on the Beatles’ “Revolution No. 9.”

And Dickie Goodman may have been the first to turn this “music of indeterminacy” into pop recordings. Other unsuccessful attempts at “break-in” records could be found as early as the 1920′s, according to syndicated radio host and music expert Dr. Demento. “In 1928, The Happiness Boys (Billy Jones and Ernest Hare) recorded a comedy sketch for Victor called ‘Twisting the Dials,’ about listening to the radio. It used a few snatches of other phonograph records to simulate the music that was encountered while ‘twisting the dials.’ The record was not a big seller. Spike Jones and Stan Freberg often used quotes from existing songs for humorous effect, but not bits of actual hit records. I would say that for all intents and purposes, ‘The Flying Saucer’ was the first successful release in that genre.”

* * *

Goodman’s legacy is still alive today. . . .

And most of all, he wants anybody who ever sampled a track, anybody who ever transposed a lyric into an entirely new song, anybody who had to contact the Harry Fox Agency to determine proper mechanical rights – to remember Dickie Goodman. “This is what I was meant to do. What I’m trying to do is stop something that can last forever from fading away. I’m trying to save my father’s work.”

1. if a book paraphrases one explicit historical or contemporary predecessor in title, style and/or content, this technique is what I would call a “greatest hit”

2. Maybe the belief that an appropriation is always a conscious strategic decision made by an author is just as naive as believing in an “original” author in the first place.

3. It appears to me, that the signature of the author, be it an artist, cineast or poet, seems to be the beginning of the system of lies, that all poets, all artists try to establish, to defend themselves, I do not know exactly against what.

4. Custom having once given the name of ” the ancients ” to our pre-Christian ancestors, we will not throw it up against them that, in comparison with us experienced people, they ought properly to be called children, but will rather continue to honor them as our good old fathers.

5. It is nothing but literature!

6. there is as much unpredictable originality in quoting, imitating, transposing, and echoing, as there is in inventing.

7. For the messieurs art-critics i will add, that of course it requires a far bigger mastery to cut out an artwork out of the artistically unshaped nature, than to construct one out of arbitrary material after ones own artistic law.

8. The authenticity of a thing is the essence of all that is transmissible from its beginning, ranging from its substantive duration to its testimony to the history which it has experienced.

9. Intellectual Property is the oil of the 21st century

10. Certain images, objects, sounds, texts or thoughts would lie within the area of what is appropriation, if they are somewhat more explicit, sometimes strategic, sometimes indulging in borrowing, stealing, appropriating, inheriting, assimilating… being influenced, inspired, dependent, indebted, haunted, possessed, quoting, rewriting, reworking, refashioning… a re-vision, re-evaluation, variation, version, interpretation, imitation, proximation, supplement, increment, improvisation, prequel… pastiche, paraphrase, parody, forgery, homage, mimicry, travesty, shan-zhai, echo, allusion, intertextuality and karaoke.

11. Plagiarism is necessary, progress implies it.

12. Ultimately, any sign or word is susceptible to being converted into something else, even into its opposite.

13. Like Bouvard and Pecuchet, those eternal copyists, both sublime and comical and whose profound absurdity precisely designates the truth of writing, the writer can only imitate a gesture forever anterior, never original

14. The world is full of texts, more or less interesting; I do not wish to add any more.

15.

16. The question is: what is seen now, but will never be seen again?

17. Détournement reradicalizes previous critical conclusions that have been petrified into respectable truths and thus transformed into lies.

18. No poet, no artist, of any art has his complete meaning alone.

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On December 11 2009 six one sentence statements originated by the “artist /author” for the purpose of this piece were mixed, in a container, with eighteen one sentence quotes taken from various other sources; each sentence was printed onto a separate piece of paper. Eighteen statements were drawn by “blind” selection and, in the exact order of their selection, join altogether to form the “statements on appropriation”, for the presentation at Stichting Perdu, Amsterdam.

In the following bibliography the sources (…) may be found although no specific statement is keyed to its actual author.

Roland Barthes,”The Death of the Author”, (1967)

Walter Benjamin, “Unpacking My Library “(1931), repr. In “Illuminations”, (ed.) Hannah Arendt (1968)

Walter Benjamin (1936), “Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit”, Frankfurt/Main 1963, p.15 (transl.http://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/philosophy/works/ge/benjamin.htm)

Marcel Broodthaers (interviewed by Freddy de Vree, 1971) repr. in “Broodthaers”, Koeln (1994), p. 93

Ulises Carrión , “The New Art of Making Books”, Kontexts no. 6-7, 1975 and repr. in Guy Schraenen: “We have won! Haven’t we?”, Amsterdam, (1992)

Giorgio de Chirico, repr. in “The New Five-Foot Shelf of Books”, Allen Ruppersberg, Ljubljana (2003)

Guy Debord, “The Society of the Spectacle” Paris, (1967), Paragraph 206, (transl. Ken Knabb http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/debord/8.htm )

Guy Debord, Gil J Wolman, “Mode d’emploi du détournement” in “Les Lèvres Nues #8″ (trans. by Ken Knabb “A User’s Guide to Détournement” (2006))

Eliot, T.S. “Tradition and the Individual Talent” (1919), repr. in Frank Kermode (ed.) “Selected Prose of T.S. Eliot”, (1984) London:Faber, p.37

Mark Getty, chairman of Getty Images in an interview with “The Economist”, London (2000)

Kenneth Goldsmith , “Being Boring”, in The Newpaper #2, London (2008), p.2,http://www.thenewpaper.co.uk

herakleitos, Ephesos (around 500 BC), quoted by Plato in “Cratylus” (fragment 41)

Julia Kristeva “Word, Dialogue and Novel” (1969), repr. in Toril Moi, (ed.) “The Kristeva Reader”

Comte de Lautréamont (Isidore Ducasse), “Poésies”, London (1978), p.68

Daniel McClean and Karsten Schubert (ed), Dear Images: Art, Copyright, and Culture, (2002)

Allen Ruppersberg, “Fifty helpful hints on the Art of the Everyday” in “The Secret of Life and Death”, LA (1985), p.113

Kurt Schwitters, “i (ein Manifest)” repr. in ” Kurt Schwitters – Das Literarische Werk” (ed.) Friedhelm Lach Band 5, p. 120, Koeln (1973/1981)

Leo Steinberg, (1978) repr. in Schwartz, Hillel, Culture of the Copy, Zone Books, New York (1996)

Max Stirner, “Der Einzige und Sein Eigentum” (1844), Stuttgart (1972), S.16

—–
see also: Douglas Huebler, “Variable piece #20″, Bradford, Massachusetts 1970

When Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005, it left behind a city full of destroyed homes. Despite ongoing rebuilding efforts, thousands of blighted properties remain. Now, a group of artists is creating a structure that is part home, part musical instrument and part inspiration of what can be made of these damaged properties.

The Music Box is a small village of ramshackle sculptures huddled together on Piety Street in the Bywater section of the once-flooded 9th Ward. The sculptures are outfitted as musical instruments and are made almost entirely of the remains of the 18th-century Creole cottage that used to sit on this lot.

The Heartbeat House is one of these musical sculptures: It’s an A-frame shack with a rotating organ speaker perched on top. The speaker is attached to a stethoscope — which broadcasts the heartbeats of those who stop to engage with the art.

“Unlike a church bell [that] calls people to congregation or an alarm, what we want to have is a Experience the Sounds of the Musical Instruments that make up the Music Box heartbeat,” explains curator Delaney Martin. “This primal beat that calls to the people of New Orleans and says: Come out and dance, come out and sing, come out and have fun.”

The instruments housed in the Music Box are described here. One, the Voxmuron, “is comprised of a microphone that feeds a series of audio loop devices that can be recorded on to and played by mahogany paddles. Complicated metal linkages that power the paddles and a complex organization of wires are masked behind a decorative, finished wall-panel. This wall of sound is intended to evoke the sound of neighbors talking or playing music on the other side of a thin wall. The sound of this instrument is never the same. It is dependent on who or what is recorded into it. A very versatile producer of sound.”

You can listen to one performance on Voxmuron by Matana Roberts and Taylor Shepard right here:

But the struggles inherent in the transition from old and established ways of doing business are ongoing and will continue to be. Today’s example comes from the world of science. As the New York Times reports, “For centuries, [scientific] research [was]cdone in private, then submitted to science and medical journals to be reviewed by peers and published for the benefit of other researchers and the public at large.  . . . Peer review can take months, journal subscriptions can be prohibitively costly, and a handful of gatekeepers limit the flow of information. It is an ideal system for sharing knowledge, said the quantum physicist Michael Nielsen, only ‘if you’re stuck with 17th-century technology.’”

But Dr. Nielsen and others argue that science can happen much more quickly and accurately using the new technologies, and reality is catching up to their ideals (even as established institutional players such as universities and grant-makers still depend on the “traditional published paper” as their exclusive criterion of judgment):

Open-access archives and journals like arXiv and the Public Library of Science (PLoS) have sprung up in recent years. GalaxyZoo, a citizen-science site, has classified millions of objects in space, discovering characteristics that have led to a raft of scientific papers.

On the collaborative blog MathOverflow, mathematicians earn reputation points for contributing to solutions; in another math experiment dubbed the Polymath Project, mathematicians commenting on the Fields medalist Timothy Gower’s blog in 2009 found a new proof for a particularly complicated theorem in just six weeks.

And a social networking site called ResearchGate — where scientists can answer one another’s questions, share papers and find collaborators — is rapidly gaining popularity.

Editors of traditional journals say open science sounds good, in theory. In practice, “the scientific community itself is quite conservative,” said Maxine Clarke, executive editor of the commercial journal Nature, who added that the traditional published paper is still viewed as “a unit to award grants or assess jobs and tenure.”