Wednesday, April 11, 2012
This is a "Law Lessong" - a law lesson in a song - that I wrote to help students consider the issues surrounding the making of a contract offer. When does negotiation coalesce into an offer that may be accepted? This view looks to language, surrounding circumstances and certainty and definiteness as factors to consider in finding an outward manifestation of present intent to be bound to a contract. I hope that it is useful to you.
The Offer's Real
Lyrics by Mark DeAngelis
Tune: based on St. Anne's Reel (public domain)
Paul went off to work today,
Unaware of what might come his way,
Through e-mails, calls and letters and texts,
He wondered if he'd make a deal.
Negotiation seeming endlessly,
How can he tell when the offer's made
To step in and seal the deal? Manifestation of a present intent, To perform a contract in any event, Look at the language that was sent, To determine if an offer's real. I offer, I promise, I covenant to Render contract performance direct to you This is the language that will do To determine that an offer's real
A court of law with objective bent
Will not unearth subjective intent
Read the signs from what's been shown
To determine if the offer's real.
An advertisement it's been said
Is often not an offer, but instead
An invitation to make offers to buy
If the seller wants to seal a deal Manifestation of a present intent, To perform a contract in any event, What circumstances are present To determine if an offer's real. Language expression may hold the key, Along with what circumstances there may be, Definiteness and certainty Will determine if an offer's real.
With our terms now there must be
Sufficient definiteness and certainty
On each and every of the law's demands
For a contract to made for real.
Sufficiently certain, sufficiently clear
With evidence for the court to hear
To grant relief in the event of breach
Will determine if the offer's real. Manifestation of a present intent, To perform a contract in any event, Sufficiently certain and definite To determine if an offer's real. Language expression may hold the key, Along with what circumstances there may be, Definiteness and certainty Help determine if an offer's real. I offer, I promise, I covenant to Render contract performance direct to you This is the language that will do To determine that an offer's real
Monday, April 9, 2012
Today we have raided his YouTube site for this number on Substantial Performance. Here is his explanation of the song:
This is a "Law Lessong" - a law lesson in a song - that I wrote to help students consider the issues regarding substantial performance of a service contract. This song follows a hypothetical where a contractor builds a new dormitory at a college. At some point, the job is "done." But is a construction job ever really "done?" There are always punch list items to be completed. The song and example hopefully allow you to explore what level of performance is acceptable and what constitutes a breach. (In the heating work, the breach is material; in the case of the malfunctioning locks, the breach is likely minor depending on how many locks are involved.) Also, there is the opportunity to distinguish between substantial performance under the contract and the performance of substantial work under the contract.
The melody is based on "The Ship That Never Returned" written by Henry Clay Work in 1865. (This melody may also be recognizable as the tune that the Lettermen used in their 1959 hit song, "Charlie on the MTA"):
The Substantial Performance Song
Words by Mark DeAngelis
Tune: Ship That Never Returned (Work, H.C.)
Did he substantially perform?
Can the college use the dorm,
To keep the students safe and warm?
Look at substance over form,
Minor or material harm?
To determine if he substantially performed.
A builder's bid was won
A job was to be done
To build a brand new college dorm
Excavators dug the land
Subcontractors followed plans
And soon substantial work they all performed
"We're done!" the builder said,
"Let's put this job to bed"
And the college inspectors came to see.
Though the structure did impress,
There were problems to address,
Before the college paid the final fee. Refrain
The inspectors checked the halls,
The plumbing, lights and walls,
And mostly they were satisfied and glad.
But when they checked the rooms for heat,
The work and standards did not meet,
The heating and the boiler work were bad.
Besides the heating ills
Leaving students with the chills,
A problem with security was found.
The college was appalled
When the locks that were installed,
In the students' rooms were junk and broken down. Refrain x2
Friday, April 6, 2012
Here's another law lessong from Professor Mark DeAngelis of the University of Connecticut's School of Business:
Here is Professor DeAngelis's intro:
This is a "Law Lessong" - a law lesson in a song, that summarizes some of the legal principles applicable under the Uniform Commercial Code for formation of sales contracts. In my experience, the Battle of Forms issue under the UCC seems to give students dreadful problems. The rules under the UCC can be confusing because there is a general rule for non-merchants, a different rule for merchants and then exceptions to the rule. So, you end up with "if this then that but if this then that but if this, this or this, then something else." I think that the song helps!
And here are the lyrics:
This Form is Your Form
Words by M. DeAngelis
Tune: This Land is Your Land
Refrain: This form is your form, that form is my form.
They show a contract for us to perform.
You sent and order, I sent an invoice.
What terms are binding on you and me?
I am a merchant. I am a seller.
You're not a merchant, just a regular fella'.
And my invoice is an acceptance.
But additional terms aren't binding on you and me.
If you're a merchant, our forms do battle.
It isn't merely, idle prattle.
We have a contract, and the invoice terms are added in,
Unless it's an exception, and there are three.
This form is your form, that form is my form.
They show a contract for us to perform.
You sent and order, I sent an invoice.
What terms are binding on you and me?
Between merchants, new terms are binding,
Unless you find them, quite surprising.
If unexpected, then material alteration you'll claim,
And the new terms will not bind you and me.
Perhaps your offer expressly stated,
Contract terms could not be annotated,
Or perhaps you previously objected to the invoice terms,
Or you raised your objection, timed reasonably.
This form is your form, that form is my form.
They show a contract for us to perform.
You sent and order, I sent an invoice.
What terms are binding on you and me?
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
A few months back, we ran a series of contracts songs YouTube videos created by Professor Richard Craswell. But the market is not saturated. Noting that Professor Craswell has no song about the good ship Peerless, Professor Mark DeAngelis, of the University of Connecticut School of Business (pictured), rushed to fill the gap.
This is a "Law Lessong" - a law lesson in a song - that I wrote to help students consider the issues of mistake in contract formation. This song chronicles the story of the case of Raffles v Wichelhaus: establishing the rule of mutual mistake in contract law.
The Bonnie Ships Peerles
By Mark DeAngelis
Sing Ho! For the mighty Peerless as through the waves she steers
A bonnie name for a bonnie ship that surely has no peer.
Can there be another like her cargo-bound for Britain's shore
On her treacherous journey into contract lore?
In America the cotton states were subject to blockade
For the fate of worldwide commerce other plans had to be made
In the colony of India English merchants solace found
Though treacherous be the journey the Cape round
And the halls of British commerce saw negotiations bold
A hundred and a quarter bales of Surat cotton to be sold
And bound to "arrive ex Peerless" from the port of far Bombay
A cargo of great value to convey
Sing Ho! For the mighty Peerless as she plows the briney main
A gallant bark no match for her we'll likely see again
Her name being inked upon the page had given the call for
Her treacherous journey into contract lore?
In October's balmy weather it was she first set sail
Her hold was brimmed with goods the merchants contracted for sale
And owing to the faithfulness and skill of her fine crew
Along the docks of Liverpool she drew.
The merchant halls received the word she'd arrived from far Bombay
And the buyer with expectancy made haste unto the quay
As the Peerless spilled her cargo down upon the dock below
No cotton would be found to buyer's woe
Sing Ho! For the mighty Peerless as she rolls upon the seas
With sails aloft and Britain bound she harnesses the breeze
But naught one bale of cotton could be found from aft to fore
On her treacherous journey into contract lore.
But lo and hark the Peerless sits embarking for to sail
Holding precious cotton bound up in a hundred and a quarter bales
A fine Bombay December morn saw her mainsail full unfurled
As she sought to journey halfway 'round the world
The Peerless tossed and pitched so hard as 'round the Cape she flew
When another ship was spied and hailed by her intrepid crew
So, now as peers they plowed the swells bound for opposing shores
Peerless once, now peerless nevermore.
And once again in Liverpool the word passed with all speed
The Peerless had arrived and all with business should take heed
And the Seller stood upon the dock full satisfied and bold
As bail on bail poured from the Peerless' hold.
But alas the buyer ne'er appeared, seller's tender was in vain
For the Buyer'd long since covered other cotton for his skeins
The Seller's suit was filed and for contract breach he claimed
And the case went on to earn them legal fame
Sing Ho! For the mighty Peerless now her voyage it is done
Her seafaring o'er but in the law her legacy's begun.
Though the merchants both invoked her name it left the seller sore
O'er her treacherous journey into contract lore.
Peerless? Nay the gallant ship was equaled by one more
For two ships by name "Peerless" sailed the brine to Britain's shore
On the merchants' fateful term to "arrive exl Peerless" they'd agreed
But no contract formed that either one must heed.
The words were fraught with meaning neither party could foresee
That each had meant a different ship to sail the rolling seas
Like two ships passing in the night, each one to the other blind
Though words agreed, no meeting of their minds.
Sing Ho! For the mighty Peerlesses as through the waves they steer
A bonnie name for bonnie ships that surely have no peers.
Can there be another like them cargo-bound for Britain's shores
On their treacherous journey into contract lore?
It's a treacherous journey into contract lore!
Professor DeAngelis's other Law Lessongs can be accessed here.
Friday, January 13, 2012
And here it is: the last in our series of links to Professor Richard Craswell's series of first-year contracts cases put to song. Previous installments in the series from Professor Craswell have included his takes on Frigaliment, Lumley, Wood v. Lady Duff Gordon, Alaska Packers, Parker v. Twentieth Century Fox, and Wartzman v. Hightower Productions.
Boy meets cow. Boy loses cow. Boy files an action in replevin. And now Plymouth (Michigan) takes its rightful place beside Verona (Italy) and the upper West Side (Manhattan) as the home of legendary star-crossed lovers!
Oh, all right. The actual facts of the case are more prosaic. Theodore Sherwood, who wanted to buy the cow, was the 47-year-old PRESIDENT of the local bank, who would never have considered hopping a freight train out of town. Though his motive in purchasing the cow is obscure, there was of course no evidence that his interest in the cow was anything other than financial. And the eventual outcome of the case was far happier than that portrayed here, for the pedigreed cow in question ("Rose the Second of Aberlone") went on to have at least five additional calves, whose registration papers each listed none other than Theodore Sherwood as the breeder. Still, no Hollywood or Nashville producer would have settled for the facts described above. Make the banker a penniless but romantic youth; change his interest in the cow to something more than "just good friends"; then tack on an implausible but heart-wrenching ending (and label the result "inspired by a true story") ... well, do all that, and you might just have the next big musical hit!
The rather long list of poems inspired by Rose of Aberlone begins famously wiith Brainerd Currie, "Aberlone, Rose of (Being an entry for an index)," first published in the Harvard Law School Record, Mar. 4, 1954, p. 3, and stiill widely available on various web sites. See also Alan Garfield, "Basic Assumption: A Poem Based on Sherwood v Walker," 57 SMU L. Rev. 137 (2004); and the various verses that can be found (along with much background on the case itself) in Norman Otto Stockmeyer, "To Err is Human, To Moo Bovine: The Rose of Aberlone Story," 24 T.M. Cooley L Rev 491 (2007).
The whole series can be found here,
Thanks to Professor Craswell for sharing these songs and YouTube creations with us!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
We continue our series of postings of Professor Richard Craswell's contracts songs with this number about "Woody Hightower" and his pole-sitting gambit. Other installments in the series from Professor Craswell have included his takes on Frigaliment, Lumley, Wood v. Lady Duff Gordon, Alaska Packers, and Parker v. Twentieth Century Fox.
Here is Professor Craswell's summary of the case:
Hightower Productions intended to employ a singer-entertainer who would live in a specially constructed mobile flagpole perch and set a new world record for flagpole sitting. The young man selected to perform this feat would be known as "Woody Hightower," and the venture was to be publicized by having him make appearances from his perch at concerts, shopping centers and the like.
Unfortunately, Hightower Productions' lawyer (Mr Wartzman) failed to prepare the paperwork needed for the company to sell stock legally to investors. As a result, no further money could be raised (nor could "Woody" be exhibited across state lines) and the project was abandoned. Unable to prove how much its flagpole-sitting venture might have made if it had gone forward, Hightower Productions instead sued its lawyer for some $170,000 in out-of-pocket expenses, known in contract law as reliance damages.
The whole venture seems a bit daft. In order to defeat the record set by St. Simeon Stylites, "Woody" would have had to sit atop his pole for 37 years. "What?" you say. "That's not what my Guinness Book of World Records says!" Well, Mr. Guinness, meet Mr. Tennyson. Or, if you prefer a more modern take on such religious exercises, consider Joshua Mehigan.
Friday, January 6, 2012
We have already presented Stanford Law's Richard Craswell's takes on Frigaliment and Lumley. Today, we offer his song about Wood v. Lady Duff Gordon, a case we have previously mentioned, for example here, here, here, here, and here.
Here is Professor Craswell's summary:
Born Lucy Sutherland, she married a Baronet and became one of the first celebrity fashion designers, enjoying success in the UK and France. Her American ventures were less successful, though, especially the effort to sell her designs through Sears and other mass retailers. Among other problems, she had already granted her American marketing rights -- including the right to half of the profits on each sale -- to a publicity agent, Otis Wood.
When Mr Wood sued for the unpaid royalties, Lady Duff-Gordon defended on the ground that Wood had not explicitly PROMISED he would do anything in return, so Duff-Gordon's promise to Wood was unenforceable for lack of "consideration." New York's highest court disagreed, in a famous opinion by Judge Benjamin Cardozo,
For a discussion of the case's historical context, see Victor P. Goldberg, "Reading Wood v Lucy, Lady Duff-Gordon with Help from the Kewpie Dolls," in his book, Framing Contract Law: An Economic Perspective 43 (2006). Other useful discussions can be found in the symposium introduced by James J. Fishman, "The Enduring Legacy of Wood v Lucy, Lady Duff-Gordon," 28 Pace L. Rev. 161 (2008); and in Mary Joe Frug, "Re-Reading Contracts: A Feminist Analysis of a Casebook, 34 American U. L. Rev. 1065 (1985).
And here's the video:
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Here is today's installment of the first-year course set to music by Richard Craswell. This time it's Lumley v. Wagner, Lumley v. Gye, a case we have not spoken about previously on the blog. So here is Professor Craswell's summary of the case:
In 1852, soprano Johanna Wagner (the niece of the famous composer) agreed to perform for three months in London at Her Majesty's Theatre, operated by Benjamin Lumley. The contract, which described her as "cantatrice of the court of His Majesty the King of Prussia," specified that Wagner could not perform at any other London theatre during that time. However, after Lumley failed to pay Wagner the advance that her contract required, Wagner accepted a better-paying engagement at Frederick Gye's Royal Italian Opera Theatre in Covent Garden, London. ¶ Courts then (as now) were reluctant to issue injunctions compelling artistic performances, in part because a coerced performance might not be very good. Lord St Leonard, England's Lord Chancellor, found a solution by ordering Wagner NOT to sing at any OTHER theater during those months. ¶ For more on the history and context of this case, see Lea S. VanderVelde, "The Gendered Origins of the Lumley Doctrine: Binding Men's Consciences and Women's Fidelity," 101 Yale L.J. 775 (1992).
We note that the case is the subject of a recent law article, A New Tortious Interference with Contractual Relations: Gender and Erotic Triangles in Lumley v. Gye, by Sarah Lynnda Swan.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Stanford Law's Richard Craswell has shared with us a link to his collection of contracts YouTube videos. But a pig this good you eat one leg at a time. So for now, we just include his song about Frigaliment, Judge Friendly's great chicken coup. It's not like we haven't written about this case before, for example, here, here, here, here and here.
But we never tire of new approaches to the case. Here's Richard Craswell's:
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Yesterday, now widely known as "Cyber Monday," I received a marketing email from Patagonia. The message: "Don't Buy This Jacket." The email read in part:
Because Patagonia wants to be in business for a good long time - and leave a world inhabitable for our kids - we want to do the opposite of every other business today. We ask you to buy less and to reflect before you spend a dime on this jacket or anything else.
The advertisement reminded me to "think twice" and instructed not to "buy what [I] don't need." The jacket, "[m]ade of warm, breathable, compressible and stretchy high-loft fleece," is apparently one of Patagonia's bestsellers; retail price of $149.
Ha! Nice try, Patagonia. I will not be manipulated by your reverse psychology. Though, it did remind me of a contracts exam fact pattern I used a few years back that involved an email where the sender said something like "I'm selling my house but, trust me, you don't want to buy my house because it has been a real money pit." Seller also says all sorts of funny and brutally frank things about the house. One of the questions raised was whether this email constitued an offer to contract. I am also reminded of the parking lot of a Grateful Dead show in the early 90's and a gentleman wandering around saying "bad [acid] trips, who wants 'em? I got 'em!" But I digress, though only slightly (e.g., Ship of Fools, see below).
Elvis Costello is also participating in this season of reverse psychology. His message: "don't buy my new box set." In fact, Costello apparently wrote on his website: "Unfortunately, we at www.elviscostello.com find ourselves unable to recommend this lovely item to you as the price appears to be either a misprint or a satire." The price? $225. NBC reports:
Costello tried to get the record company to knock the price down, but was unsuccessful. So he is recommending buying the work of another legendary artist.
"If you should really want to buy something special for your loved one at this time of seasonal giving, we can whole-heartedly recommend, 'Ambassador of Jazz' -- a cute little imitation suitcase, covered in travel stickers and embossed with the name 'Satchmo' but more importantly containing TEN re-mastered albums by one of the most beautiful and loving revolutionaries who ever lived – Louis Armstrong," Costello wrote. "The box should be available for under one hundred and fifty American dollars and includes a number of other tricks and treats. Frankly, the music is vastly superior."
It may be earnest, but I read it as a brilliant marketing ploy. Who would have known that Elvis Costello was issuing a new box set? I mean, who buys physical CDs anymore? And it even comes with a vinyl record... but it is overpriced and you don't want it.
[Meredith R. Miller]
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
A few posts back, I referred to Apple's business model as incorporating relational contracting on a mass consumer scale which made me wonder whether relational contract theory is due for a revival (not that it ever went away). I didn’t attend the conference at Wisconsin honoring Stewart Macaulay although I wish I had. Relational contracting should be the subject of renewed interest given the new business models that incorporate goods, services, and information. On the radio yesterday morning, I heard someone talk about Google's business as being more than a series of searches - it was about services and relationships with its customers. (Okay, maybe those weren't the exact words, but they're close enough). A few weeks ago, a NYT article discussed new technology companies that are assisting musicians in managing their relationships with their fans. In order to survive, many businesses (especially those in the creative industries) will have to reboot for the evolving marketplace. Not all businesses (and by “businesses," I mean musicians, writers and artists who want to get paid and are not backed by large corporate conglomerates) are equipped to do this. Well, make way for companies like Topspin, Bandcamp, FanBridge and ReverbNation, to assist them. These companies help musicians run a band's online business which means they sell music, manage fan clubs and calculate royalty payments. They have found a way to bundle physical and digital goods. How much you want to bet that those digital goods are protected by contracts?
Which brings me to relational contract law. The purpose of these companies is to enable the musician to survive (and even thrive) without being backed by a record company. Now, the musician can directly manage the relationship with the fan. In the past, a fan joined a fan club, bought a ticket to a concert from one vendor, a record from a retailer, a tee shirt from another retailer - you get the picture. With the exception of the rules on the back of the concert ticket and the fan club membership rules, the other transactions were not governed by contract. The fan can now buy everything she or he wants that's band-related from that band's website, subject to the terms and conditions of the website and the licenses that accompany the digital products. Shouldn't the terms of those contracts be considered in light of the existing relationship between the musician and the fan? Wouldn't a relational contracts approach be helpful in analyzing the terms and how they should be interpreted and enforced?
Apple is relevant in this discussion for another reason. If it weren't for iTunes, it's likely that
none of these businesses would exist. (Fun note - the NYT article mentions that the chief executive of Topskin has a tattoo of the logo for NeXT Computer, which was Steve Job's old company).
Monday, October 10, 2011
Steve Jobs made quite an impact on the world, rethinking the way people use technology and introducing beautifully designed, innovative products. Because this is a contracts blog, I want to discuss the interesting way his company, Apple, uses contracts in its business. Before iTunes, most music was sold to consumers on CDs. Apple is not the first or only company to license rather than sell digital music, but it is the most popular. Because of the enormous popularity of the iPod and iTunes, Apple made it acceptable to license rather than sell music - a concept that at one time seemed strange and somewhat outrageous. The way Apple uses contracts is closely tied to the nature of its innovative products and services (which meld the tangible and the digital), the way they are delivered to the customer, and Apple’s business model. Apple markets itself as more than a purveyor of technology products. Its customers don’t buy a product, they enter into a relationship. Apple reminds customers that they have a relationship, not a one time transaction, and they remind them via contracts. Apple has its customers click each time they purchase a song and each time they download an updated version of iTunes. It's mass consumer relational contracting. (Other companies may do this, too, but I can't think of one offhand that does it the way Apple does). Apple also closes the gap between offline and online contracting. When I bought my iPad not long ago, after I had paid for it, the salesperson (aka the “Genius”) had me click “I agree” to the terms of an agreement on my new iPad before he would hand it over. It made me wonder, will we see more rolling clickwraps? Will clickwraps replace paper contracts in the mass consumer setting? As products become more digital than tangible, will we see more licenses and fewer sales? (I think the answer is yes). As products incorporate more software than hardware, will they no longer be considered “goods”? What types of innovative contracting forms might we expect to confront in the future?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Freakonomics blogger and Yale ContractsProf, Ian Ayres, has teamed up with his 14-year-old Gleek daughter to write a song, and now he's offering an iTunes gift card worth up to $500 to the winner of a contest to guess which lyrics are his.
It's really two contests in one. The first contest is to guess which of three songs peformed by his daughter Professor Ayres co-wrote and also to specify a line that he authored. That contest ends October 31st. The second contest is to predict the total number of views for the three songs. The deadline for that contest is October 10th. Winner of the first contest will get a gift card; winner of the second contest will get signed copies of two of Professor Ayres' books.
The details of the contest are here.
And as an additional incentive, Professor Ayres offers a special bonus: If the winning entry happens to come from a student or ContractsProf who use the Ayres & Speidel casebook, he and/or his daughter will perform a song of the winner's choosing in a "personal Skype concert." He did not specify that the song has to be one of the three relevant to the contest, so I recommend demanding a performance of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody."
Monday, May 30, 2011
Country singer Tim McGraw (right) has been sued by his record label, Curb Records, over an alleged breach of contract. Here is the complaint. According to the complaint, McGraw has been recording with Curb since 1997. The dispute relates to when McGraw recorded the master tracks for his new album. According to this report on Taste of Country, the contract states that the new music must be delivered to the label, “no earlier than 12 months and no later than 18 months" after his prior album. However, that timetable gets pushed back upon the release of a collection of McGraw's Greatest Hits. The purpose of these term was to make certain that the music on the new album is "topical and new." Curb Records claims that McGraw began recording the current album, Emotional Traffic, in 2008 but did not turn in the final cut of the album to the label until 2010. That early start date renders the music as old as dirt and as stale as the corn bread from last year's Fourth of July parade.
In addition, since Curb recently released a McGraw Greatest Hits album, not only are the masters too old, they are also delivered too early, rendering them both as old as dirt and as premature as a Spring pig born in February. Curb records alleges that McGraw is trying to fulfill his contractual obligations early and thus be free of them.
Curb seeks a judgment declaring McGraw to be in breach of his agreement with Curb, allowing it to enforce remedies provided in the agreement, and also in agreement of a 2001 settlement that reduced the number of albums McGraw was obligated to record with Curb from six to five. As a result, if Curb is successful in its suit, McGraw would be obligated to provide yet another album on the terms specified -- or he'd have to somehow buy his way out of that agreement. They are also seeking consequential damages and injunctive relief that would prevent McGraw from offering his services to anyone other than Curb records until he has completed the terms of his contract.
As Reuters reports, all of this makes McGraw madder than a wet hen. He has filed an Answer and Counterclaims against Curb. He is seeking a declaration that he has delivered all the recordings that he was contractually obligated to deliver to Curb and is now free of further contractual obligations. He also seeks advances, plus compensatory, consequential and special damages. The heart of the dispute seems to surround the timing and frequency of Greatest Hits albums that Curb has released. From McGraw's perspective, the releases prolong both the contract and the periods during which McGraw cannot release new material. To date Curb has only released on track off the new album, the single “Felt Good on My Lips,” which spent several weeks at the top of the country charts. If the album's release is delayed, fans will have to see McGraw perform them live, which he plans to do, claiming that the new material is "his best ever." The whole thing is more complicated than one of Thomas Jefferson's plans for crop rotation.
[JT and Jared Vasiliauskas]
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
This may not exactly be news, but if you haven't read David Lee Roth's autobiography, it is likely news to you. We got this contracts story when we downloaded the most recent podcast of This American Life called "Fine Print 2011." More posts may follow once we finish listening to the entire show. Actually, it's not news to our Meredith Miller, who blogged about the earlier version of This American Life's "Fine Print" show.
The basic story is as follows: rumor had it that Van Halen insisted on a bowl of M&Ms backstage whenever they performed and that -- this is the crucial part of the infamous rider -- all brown M&Ms be removed from the bowl. As This American Life's Ira Glass explains, this story has usually been read as epitomizing the extent to which our celebrities demand that we pamper them. But David Lee Roth (pictured to the right) provides a different explanation in his aforementioned autobiography, helpfully excerpted on Snopes.com here:
Van Halen was the first band to take huge productions into tertiary, third-level markets. We'd pull up with nine eighteen-wheeler trucks, full of gear, where the standard was three trucks, max. And there were many, many technical errors -- whether it was the girders couldn't support the weight, or the flooring would sin in, or the doors weren't big enough to move the gear through.
The contract rider read like a version of the Chinese Yellow Pages because there was so much equipment, and so many human beings to make it function. So just as a little test, in the technical aspect of the rider, it would say "Article 148: There will be fifteen amperage voltage sockets at twenty-foot spaces, evenly, providing nineteen amperes . . ." This kind of thing. And article number 126, in the middle of nowhere, was: "There will be no brown M&Ms in the backstage area, upon pain of forfeiture of the show, with full compensation.
So, when I would walk backstage, if I saw a brown M&M in that bowl, well, line-check the entire production. Guaranteed you're going to arrive at a technical error. They didn't read the contract. Guaranteed you'd run into a problem. Sometimes it would threaten to just destroy the whole show. Something like, literally, life-threatening.
It's a nice story, but I don't buy it. If you are concerned about girders not being able to support the weight of your show, check the girders, not the M&Ms. Moreover, Meredith's earlier post links to the relevant page of the rider from TheSmokingGun.com, and it does not threaten forfeiture or anything else.
Another nice excerpt from the autobiography:
I came backstage. I found some brown M&Ms, I went into full Shakespearean "What is this before me?" . . . you know, with the skull in one hand . . . and promptly trashed the dressing room. Dumped the buffet, kicked a hole in the door, twelve thousand dollars' worth of fun.
Two problems. First, the rider does not seem to permit twelve thousand dollars worth of fun. That's not covered under the term "forfeiture." Second, Hamlet doesn't say anything like "What is this before me" when he contemplates Yorick's skull. I think Roth is thinking of Macbeth's dagger monologue, which begins, "Is this a dagger which I see before me?" And then in some productions he dumps the buffet and kicks a hole in the door.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
We previously blogged about No Doubt's lawsuit against Activision. In a nutshell, the band admits that it granted Activision a license to use the names and likenesses of its members in one of the Guitar Hero games ("Band Hero"); however, the band claims that it never agreed that Activision could use avatars of the band members to perform songs by other artists and sing in voices of other artists (an example was Gwen Stefani, the lead singer of No Doubt, singing "Honky Tonk Woman"). (You may recall that Courtney Love was also peeved that the game allowed Kurt Cobain's avatar to sing the songs of other artists).
A California trial court had denied Activision's motion to dismiss the suit; last week, an appeals court affirmed. Here's an update on the lawsuit from the LA Times "Company Town" blog:
A three-judge panel on Tuesday rejected Activision Blizzard Inc.'s motion to throw out a lawsuit filed in 2009 by the rock band No Doubt, dealing a minor blow to the Santa Monica video game giant.
The ruling by the federal district court of appeals paves the way for No Doubt to proceed with its suit, which alleged Activision breached its contract with the group when it allowed players of Activision's video game Band Hero to use band members' avatars to perform songs they did not write.
The band, in its lawsuit, said the game's feature "transformed No Doubt band members into a virtual karaoke circus act."
Activision Blizzard filed a motion to have the lawsuit dismissed, saying it had the right of creative expression. The motion was rejected in April by Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge Kenji Machida. The appellate court Tuesday agreed with Machida, saying No Doubt can pursue its case against Activision.
While the decision is probably a mere prelude to further legal maneuvers by both sides, the Guitar Hero video game series itself, which had once generated more than $1 billion in revenue for Activision, was recently declared dead. Activision last week said it would shut down its Guitar Hero business, lay off 500 workers and cease development of a Guitar Hero title that was slated for release this year.
Here's a copy of the appellate court decision that allows No Doubt's lawsuit to continue.
[Meredith R. Miller]
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The band Pink Floyd has taken its record label, EMI, to court, as reported here in the Financial Times. There are two aspects to the dispute. First, the band is challenging the way EMI calculates royalties from online sales. At the time the parties entered into their current agreement, online sales were not a major factor, but they now account for over 1/4 of all record company revenues, according to the Financial Times. In addition, the band objects to having its songs "unbundled"; that is, sold as single tracks rather than together in an album.
The latter is an interesting issue. Pink Floyd was one of my favorite bands when I was in high school, but I could not have told you the names of many of the songs on "Dark Side of the Moon," "Wish You Were Here," or "Animals." One always listened to their records -- there were records in those days -- track by track, and it would not have made sense to do anything else. Theirs were concept albums, and the songs flow into one another -- so much that one could not always say where one ended and the other began. Moreover, in the state most people were in when listening to Pink Floyd albums in the 70s, nobody would have wanted to take the initiative to get up from the couch, nor did they possess the fine motor skills it would have taken to move the needle to the desired track. But since all music is now digitized, listeners usually have the option of a "shuffle" feature that enables them to play the tracks in random order. In short, regardless of what Pink Floyd wants, listeners can conveniently opt to listen to the band's songs in any order or in random order. I'm not sure there is much a court can do to affect that.
UPDATE in the comments. Pink Floyd won its case, at least with respect to the bundling issue.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
According to this story in the Los Angeles Times (and about a zillion other websites), Michael Lynche has been cut from the top 24 contestants of this year's version of American Idol. The ground for his dismissal is breach of contract. The breach allegedly occurred when Lynche's soon-to-be-estranged father confirmed rumors that his son had made the semi-final round. This a breach of the contestants' agreement that they will not divulge their fates on the show.
"Aww, come on!" I hear you type into your favorite blog, "Michael Lynche is awesome!!!" That may well be. I wouldn't know, as I don't watch the show. But one aspect of the report strikes me as very interesting. According to this report, the non-disclosure agreement binds not only the contestants, but also their families. Now how does the network manage that? I mean, if I ever did anything of which my family could be proud, what could I do to prevent my mother from reporting on the nachas? "So, you said he was a nichtgutkeit," I can hear her crow, "But now whose son is idle -- eh? Eh?"