Everything you know as a “hit”– everything that you sing along with and dance to – was marketed to you. Media acts as god and the audience generally accepts as god’s law what’s shared repeatedly with them, good or bad.

Perception is guided. Some themes resonate differently among different audiences. A Christmas song would more likely resonate among the general audience than, say, a song about surfing. The Christmas song is played once a year, the surfboard song might click year round… but more people do Christmas than surf, so we can expect to see better numbers on the Christmas song. This speaks volumes regarding resonance of theme, but there is also resonance in sonics. Familiar keys, tones and melodies all depend on repetition to become familiar and in most cases, represent the style, taste and programme of the architect.

How hard is it really, trying to forget a song, let alone a hit? The word trying, alone, takes two steps back for each one forward.

Yes, there are must-haves for basic release, production specifics required for the professional market space. Although it might still be costly to make a song, there are much more affordable ways to do so, while meeting the necessary production standards. Budgets can be minimal, hits are made via voice notes from behind bars, full studios are carried around in backpacks.

So you want to make a hit. You have the best cadence, a captivating voice, style and presence. Your bredren made a beat, so you book some studio time and record on it. You listen over and over. You make adjustments. ‘Man dem’ in the studio say it’s a hit.

It’s your first-ever song but sounds like the work of a veteran. You could rightfully call yourself the newest veteran, but Damian Marley might have something to say about it – less stress going with your real name.

The engineer handles the first bounce like a final mix. You start to have visions of your song, blasting from the cars on Knutsford Boulevard and the music vendors’ mobile push carts in Coronation Market, chatting with Winford Williams and Anthony Miller, a domino effect going on in radio land, every sound man wanting to play the song and offering big bucks for dub plates.

You master the track because you understand that all hit songs are mastered.

Your producer bredren — same one who made the beat – introduces you to a graphic artist, who supplies a cool, animated vibe for the cover art. You shell out a little cash but when you show it to your girlfriend she’s like, “meh”. It doesn’t do anything for her. She says something to the effect that it’s your first song and people should know what you look like. You find sense in her reasoning so she suggests a friend of a friend. He’s young and pretty good at taking pics, plus he has his own Nikon. You wouldn’t know the difference if it were a Blackberry camera, as long as the thing works and makes people know what you look like. The friend agrees to help you, if he’s credited and he can use a couple of the images on his page. You quickly agree, saving yourself X dollars upfront.

The shoot’s done, pictures are dope. You tell the photographer how ‘sick’ the pics are but he replies, “Nuh say forty,” so you temper your enthusiasm. Then he asks, when are you shooting the video? You weren’t planning on doing a video right now but he insists: “A video is a must! Bro, if the release doesn’t have a video then it’s not a real release”. He said it so matter-of-factly that you shake your head. He has a point. When was the last time you saw a music artiste release a single without a video arriving in short order? You mention that you’re doing everything out of pocket. The photographer asserts that he also shoots videos on the Nikon and that he would love to hear the song, to feel the vibe. “We” would have to do a simple treatment that would cost little or no money. Just rent or borrow a couple lenses and make sure we have food and water.

Everything feels serendipitous and to be honest nothing much is in the “out of pocket” branch of the bank, so you welcome any help you can get. Time passes and everything is ticked off the list. Now to release the song.

Meet distribution and his cousin publishing. You watch a few videos on YouTube and get acquainted with music aggregators. As an independent artiste, it sparks your interest that you can sign up with a third-party aggregator, pay them a percentage and they will handle getting your music into stores and streaming platforms, the Amazon, iTunes, Apple Music and Spotify, of this world. You learn about mechanical royalties and performance royalties and you scratch your head. All this feels like work, you really just want to make some music. All this business of ownership and splits seem to take up more energy than the music, is this the music business or the business music? You find a decent DIY platform, create a label and now, overnight, you have become your own music distribution and publishing company.

The date is set for your release, the ticker tape parade is ready.

Two weeks later, you haven’t heard any radio stations playing the song. You made sure to leave CDs and flash drives at every relevant radio station in Jamaica. You did your research and got e-mail addresses for the DJs and sent them all digital copies. You can’t imagine what could be wrong. Give it another week or two and see, you tell yourself. In that time you manage to get an interview on radio and hear your song on the airwaves for the first time. But the DJ keeps talking over the music. You wish he would just play the song! Now to make matters worse he stops the track fifteen seconds in. In your head you’re screaming, The song just started, the listeners never got ANYTHING! The interview ends with you questioning its purpose.

Three months later, no one is playing the music. Six months pass and the only car blasting the music on Knutsford Boulevard is your cousin when he gives you a lift. When are you releasing the next one? he asks. You tell him that you are waiting to see what happens with the current single. He tells you that “current” would not be the best word to describe a song that’s been out for five months. You correct him that it’s been six. He goes quiet, then asks you about your relations with the DJs; which ones are endorsing you? You look at him puzzled. You only heard the music on air that once – for 15 seconds. He tells you you’re not going about it the right way. You can drop off CDs at the station all day everyday but that won’t guarantee you any radio play. You need to have a personal relationship with the DJs. You’re not sure what he means by “personal relationship.”

A year has passed. Now you’re aware of the business of music, becoming a constant student to keep up with music’s ever-changing reality. You have learnt that there are no government subsidies for music and art production and promotion in Jamaica – a country that benefits tremendously from the cool factor generated by musical and cultural efforts. You have learnt that sometimes it’s the name that makes things feel good or bad. For example, you would rather call it marketing budget, as opposed to payola. You have learnt that.

Sheldon R Shepherd is an award-winning Jamaican actor, artiste, and author. In 2018, Sheldon became the first dub poet-in-residence at the Black Mountain Institute, University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Shepherd’s projects include a starring role in Idris Elba’s directorial début, Yardie. He is also one half of the performing duo The No-Maddz.