Singer/writer Geminelle Rollins went solo at age 13 (Photo courtesy of the artist)

Indie or Bust

The frenetic, exhilarating world
of go-it-alone music

Chinwe Oniah
219 Magazine
Published in
8 min readJun 24, 2015

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By Chinwe Oniah

It’s the year 2004. Jennifer Hudson is voted off “American Idol,” Usher’s chart topping song “Yeah” comes out, Destiny’s Child releases a fourth album, “Destiny Fulfilled.”

It’s the year 2004 and Geminelle Rollins isn’t doing any of those things. She spends her days dreaming of doing what Jennifer Hudson, Destiny’s Child and Usher are doing.

Geminelle, who was 16 in 2004, had been singing since she was 8, performing at track meets and auditioning for plays in her hometown, San Diego. A manager had agreed to represent her when she was 12 years old and she had joined a girl group called MISS. She realized quickly that things wouldn’t work out and went solo at 13.

It was nothing against MISS. “Not that they weren’t good; they just weren’t compatible for me,” she said.

On her own, she became laser-focused on her craft. She made the short hop to L.A. twice a month, meeting with A&Rs — artists and repertoire reps, the talent scouts of music labels. She found a producer, Piermid, who once had worked for singer/songwriter R. Kelly, and recorded her first full-length album, “For Once in My Life.”

“I got really intense in vocal training, then I started writing my own music,” she said. “That was a really fast-paced time.”

She still wasn’t Jennifer Hudson, but by age 16 Geminelle was out there. Like many artists, she had rejected the established model of finding her way through agents and managers to a contract with a major label. She joined instead the ranks of music pros who sign with independent labels (where they get less support but a bigger percentage of the take) and the true independents who self-release their music. Guitarist Andy McKee signed to CandyRat Records after he was discovered on his YouTube page. Panic! At The Disco signed a deal after appearing on Myspace. Chance the Rapper, who is signed to his own label — Chance the Rapper LLC — said in an interview with Rolling Stone that he can do whatever he wants, and “flex the unlimited capacity of an independent artist.”

“Indie labels are experiencing a resurgence of visibility within the marketplace, mostly due to a successful recipe of mixing a clear vision, likeminded artistry, and a tight geographic radius,’’ said Jeff Rabhan, chair of the Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts; he was writing in “Reverbnation,” an online music platform.

“They asked me if I could dance and I said, ‘Yeah, but …’ ”

Three years after going solo, Geminelle Rollins was on a roll. A big-name hip-hop producer, Battlecat, approached her — still a junior at Morse High School in San Diego — about a deal with Warner Bros. But her excitement quickly drained.

The label thought she could be another slick pop artist like Ciara. “They asked me if I could dance and I said, ‘Yeah, but…’ ” she said, giving the impression that dancing was not what she wanted to do. She wanted to keep writing soul songs about love, a genre Geminelle said belongs to older adults like Jill Scott. So she backed away from Warner Bros.

“I felt good about it,” she said. “I felt like I made a good decision for myself.”

She has been pursing music on her terms ever since.

Geminelle, now 27, has moved to New York City, where she works part-time at a start-up company called HelpAnother and has joined a “creative label” called 5519 — a collective of independent professionals in music, photography, and health and wellness. She went back to San Diego for three weeks last December to record her new album, “Audiobook,” and recently earned $1,500 for a gig in Detroit.

If anything, the music industry is even more fragmented 15 years into her career. Artists and repertoire specialists scavenge for those one-in-a-million prospects who can sign with a major label and become the next Katy Perry or Rihanna.

Fred Mollin, a former A&R rep at Walt Disney Records, said that 30 percent of all artists are good enough to go pro, but only 1 percent of those talents get signed to a major label. And out of that 1 percent, even smaller percentages reach the ranks of Maroon 5 or the Foo Fighters.

Getting signed to a label does not guarantee riches. At a major label, whatever an album makes in sales is split mostly among production costs, the songwriter, the publisher and the label — with the artist getting whatever is left. At an indie label, the profits get split 50/50 between the artist and the label.

Dana Hilliard is the child of a poet and a singer (Photo courtesy of the artist)

Like Geminelle Rollins, many young artists have little interest in label contracts or the industry’s trappings. Dana Hilliard has music in her blood: Her father is a poet and her mother a singer. Dana started getting into music when she was 8 years old, singing in church with her cousins in a group organized by their grandfather, whom they called the “nice Joe Jackson.”

Dana started getting serious about her craft only two years ago, when she met up with her producer friend, Rodrick White. She had known him since junior high, when she noticed him banging and making beats on the cafeteria table to the Busta Rhymes song “Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See.”

At Molloy College on Long Island, Dana and her cousin Lewis Bethea (also her manager) wrote music together starting when they were 18 years old — including a song for recording star Chris Brown. Her uncle, a promoter for a record label, knew Brown’s mother and got the song to the singer, but the project fell through. She and her producer “didn’t have a goal in mind of what we wanted to do,” she said. “It was just something we wanted to do.”

Devin Tracy, 24, started singing when he was 10 years old. By 11, he was writing his own music, inspired by his father, who played jazz around their Jacksonville, Florida, home.

After spending a year at Bethune-Cookman University studying music technology, Devin decided to give up that venture and pursue his music career in New York City.

He manages his career all by himself. He books his own studio time, he does his own marketing, he does his own networking, he does his own emailing and he does his own promotion. He met his accompanying guitarist, Zach, on craigslist.

Devin Tracy books his own studio time and does his own marketing (Photo courtesy of the artist)

“It’s a lot going on,” Devin said, “especially, like, work and trying to book studio time and trying to book gigs for myself. It’s just a lot going on.” But it’s still fun. “I get to control everything on my side instead of having to run to a manager,” he said.

Neil Harris, manager for the indie rock band Cut Copy, said the group found success without a “genius plan.” The band recorded music — including its hit, “Hearts on Fire” — then let the rest grow organically. Cut Copy has spent 10 years touring in various countries; Mexico City is its biggest market.

Cut Copy handles all aspects of its business and creative affairs, touring and selling merchandise. Manager Harris said the group gets more spins by promoting to its 70,000-member email list than by having an outside publication showcase its music. For example, if the publication Pitchfork promoted its music, Harris said, the band would get about 3,000 plays. But if Cut Copy promoted to its own email list, it would get 9,000 plays.

Selling records is just a small part of Cut Copy’s business. The group earns more by playing shows and licensing its music for commercials and other promotional materials.

In short, independent artists have to do it all, which adds up to a frenetic workstyle. Geminelle Rollins is running late for her gig at Dinosaur BBQ in Harlem. It’s 6:19 p.m. and she’s just now leaving her home in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. Sound check was at 6:15, doors opens at 7 and the show starts at 8, but before she can even get to the venue she needs to pick up her photographer boyfriend, James Malone.

“I don’t even want to do this show,” she says.

She has worked a full day at her old job, Harlem Children’s Zone, rushing home from work to get her ukulele and loop pedal, an integral part of her act.

It takes her an hour and a half to get to the venue, and she begins to stress.

Shortly after 8, Geminelle rushes to do her hair and makeup. She emerges from the bathroom with her face made up and her short curly hair pinned at the sides. She runs around to try and do a sound check amid the soul music blaring on the sound system.

She learns that she is opening the show, but nervousness doesn’t show. She sits down in the front row where her belongings are placed and gets on her phone, checking her Instagram and messages.

The emcee announces Geminelle after singing her praises. She takes the stage.

She sings a cover of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy,” using only her voice as the background instrumental. Her voice is confident, slightly airy, but throaty. With ease, she puts together a succession of notes in a run.

Next she sings an original song, “Newness.”

She steps off stage after these two songs and gets rousing applause. She smiles and tells the crowd that if they are interested in her music, they should come and meet her.

She makes her way to her seat.

“It’s hot up there, yo.”

Fifteen years into Geminelle’s career, the music industry is more fragmented than ever (Photo by James Malone)

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