The cost of cancellation

The issue of what to do with "cancelled" artists, as discussed in a post here at the end of January, is once again front and centre with the allegations levelled at Ryan Adams, as well as the recent documentaries Surviving R Kelly and Leaving Neverland. Not to trivialise matters, or to suggest that the real victims might be anyone other than those who suffered abuse, it's nevertheless interesting to read about the impact that the cancellation of Adams' LP Big Colors has had and will have on record shops.

For some, like Drift in Totnes, it comes as a costly blow at a time when the vinyl sales would have been greatly appreciated. And yet owner Rupert Morrison insists: "I'd have a cleaner conscience as a shop if [an abuser's] career bombed regardless of how many sales we lost through the till."

The gathering backlash against Michael Jackson might not have the same financial impact on independent record stores but nevertheless looks set to transform his visibility, with radio stations around the world already blacklisting his music. For record shop owners, it's difficult to know what to do when an established musician's name suddenly becomes mud - as Judy Mills of Mills Record Company has acknowledged: "As I was pulling a Ryan Adams box set off the floor, I also pulled his artist card from the racks, and I thought to myself: What do I do with the other artists out here, filling my sales floor, who are alleged to be sexual molesters, offenders, rapists, misogynists and plain ol' assholes? It's easy to stop stocking those artists going forward, but what about now that I own them?" Drawing a line, as Pitchfork's Jayson Greene put it, is already a messy business - and is made all the messier when the positioning of the line may carry a significant personal cost.