Saturday night saw the Richter Collective come to a close. As the most visible independent Irish label of the last decade, Richter brought a lot of great records into the world and were properly at the centre of what is generally thought of as something of a “golden age” for underground Irish music. While such terminology might be troublesome at best, anybody who has spent any time next or near the Irish music scene in the last four years couldn’t but have heard a Richter release or seen one of their bands play. From the firecracker of BATS’ Red In Tooth And Claw to Jogging’s grizzled juggernaut Minutes and on to The Redneck Manifesto’s Friendship, Richter ran the gamut of underground Irish rock, symbiotically reflecting a scene and creating one of their own.
In many ways, it’s the classic indie label story. Some people realise there’s a whole bunch of great bands on their doorstep that no one else is paying all that much attention to, they get together some money to put out some releases and it all goes from there. Richter was perhaps too tied to the traditional label structure, something they have acknowledged in the process of winding up operations. They attempted to give Ireland something it has never really had before; a strong, well-known independent label run on a basis of passion and friendship that could provide financial and promotional support to bands that it worked with. Their bands always recorded in nice studios with good producers, even if that meant flying half-way around the world to do so. Their CDs and LPs always looked beautiful, with great artwork and top-quality packaging. No expense spared when it came to the presentation of the work and that professionalism certainly gave their bands an air of legitimacy that is tough to find in indie circles. Signing to Richter was something of a big deal in itself for any local band and I can’t think of another Irish indie that could claim that. When established acts like the Rednecks and And So I Watch You From Afar joined the ranks, it became clear that they could hold their own in bigger ponds as well.
Unfortunately, it seems the business model – laudable as it was – has not worked. After four years of hard graft and a couple dozen releases, the label has closed. It seems the simple idea of being a traditional label just cannot work any more. For some people, it calls into question the very reason for labels to exist. Can’t bands just do it all themselves? While that question has been bandied about for a couple of years now (since Myspace at least), the label remains a vital institution for a couple of reasons.
The first is curation. The human quality of any good label will tend to be its strongest selling point; personal taste is obvious and passion is infectious. Labels can draw together disparate artists channelling the same impulse. They can create a solid from the ether in a way that is beyond any blog or website because labels are real. They are real people making real things with real art for the real world. As long as that remains so, you’ll always have a need for labels.
