Don’t make art to make money. Make money to make art.

While I know this might read incredibly jaded, please hear me out. Today, it’s nearly impossible to make a decent living as an artist. Some of the most brilliant artists I know struggle to make ends meet.

Platforms like Spotify are to blame. Spotify pays artists $.003 per stream. If artists own 100% of their music, they must average 1,000,000 streams every month to make $36,000 per year. Unfortunately, artists rarely own all their music. Producers get a cut. Collaborators get a cut. Managers get a cut. Labels get a cut. Everyone gets a cut.

In actuality, artists take home a couple thousand dollars a year for music they’ve poured their hearts and souls into. If artists rely entirely on their art to make money, they’re either forced to starve or make decisions that compromise their creative vision. Most artists I talk to these days seem to be more concerned with what the Spotify algorithm wants to hear rather than what their listeners want to hear. Some artists get lucky and hit the Spotify algorithmic lottery. Most don’t.

I read the other day of an independent artist who pulled all his music off Spotify and chose to sell records instead. He made the decision because at $30 a pop, he only had to sell 100 records to make the equivalent of 1,000,000 streams. More and more artists will move towards this model. They will choose to quit the streaming game and instead focus more on appealing to a small sect of fans.

In addition to intentional maneuvers like the one above, I think artists should consider other vocations that allow their creative talents to shine while continuing to pursue their artistic endeavors.

Over the past six years, I’ve written and released three books of poetry, four spoken-word records and dozens of narrative-driven music videos. I’m able to make art I’m genuinely proud of because I’m not under the pressure of it needing to make money.

I make a great living doing work I love at my agency with my brother and a small band of creative misfits. Better yet, I’ve found the art fuels the advertising. I often approach projects at the agency as an artist-adman rather than just strictly an adman. This has brought me respect from my clients and more authentic working relationships.

A few months back I was on site with one such client that runs an enterprise software company that employs 1,500 people. When I walked into the room, the first thing he said to me was… "Tell me about this spoken-word project."

We discussed poetry for a while. He shared some of his favorite poems with me. We then dove into the words he was using to talk about his company. Connecting at an artistic level allowed us to connect authentically at a business level, too.