Indie Label Spotlight: Audio Antihero

In this Indie Label Spotlight, we speak with Audio Antihero founder Jamie Halliday whose relationship with music is shaped less by trends and metrics and more by instinct, curiosity, and long-term obsession. Across discussions of artistic risk, streaming culture, and what makes them trust an artist, they reflect on building a DIY catalogue defined by belief over certainty.

Q: What usually catches your attention first: the songwriting, the production, or the personality behind a project?

A: Hard to say. My taste in music is kind of “what the fuck was that?” so I never know what will hook me in. Out of context, a lot of music just goes straight past me, so it’s usually random as to whether it’ll be a lyric, a melody, or a production flourish that will make me shut my screaming brain up long enough to listen.

I’m not particularly attracted to big personalities, but once someone is in my hyperfixation sphere, I tend to be excited about whatever nonsense people are trying. Especially true when it’s an artist with a deep catalogue, it takes a lot of affection to think, "Oh, this is their weird industrial album everyone hates; I gotta check that out.”

In a way, it’s a bit unfair, because we end up liking records we might not have given a chance from an unfamiliar artist, but I suppose most things are like that if you think about it. Darren Hayman is an example of that for me, if you tell me“I just heard a great instrumental album about outdoor swimming pools” or “there’s a beautiful song about a Butlins holiday” or “there’s three really good albums, they’re about Essex specifically.” I might not be that interested, but from Darren it’s like, “why not?” He got my ass.

Q: How do you balance artistic risk with the realities of promotion and streaming?

A: I think the most important thing is if I’m excited or not. Not every album can have the same level of success, but if I believe in an artist, it’s not such a terrible thing to be their advocate in a challenging campaign. Early Audio Antihero releases like Nosferatu D2, Benjamin Shaw, Jack Hayter, and Wartgore Hellsnicker were never going to be for everyone. It can be painful to not reach as many people as you’d like to, but I don’t remember those records as being frustrating. I remember that we gave it a good go, and sometimes we did alright, sometimes more than alright. Those were cute times.

More recently, Avery Friedman’s New Thing debut could be seen as a slow burn, Magana’s Teeth could be considered avant-garde, and Tiberius’ Troubadour doesn’t have any fucking choruses on it. We just released a fancy CD edition of the Tiberius album since our cassettes sold out pretty quick. 

Josaleigh Pollett, who, in my view, is long overdue for their day in the sun at press, has their If I Let It Quiet album out on July 24th. It’s their label debut, and it’s probably the least immediately accessible of their works to date, but it’s so worth it. 

Ultimately, the hope is to feel like we’re a team, and when that can happen, it’s so rewarding. These albums and artists deserve an advocate, and I’m proud of them for finding their sound and voice, and I’m grateful to share small victories with them.

Q: What makes you believe in an artist beyond just monthly listeners or playlist placements?

A: Unfortunately, streaming and monthly listeners are hugely impactful on an artist, in my view.

Spotify pre-dates Audio Antihero by about a year, so while it’s pretty undeniable, in my opinion, that it has turned itself into the metric through which most success is measured by the most amount of people, it’s not how I grew up appreciating music. Most music I listen to for fun these days is CD or cassette on one of my two boomboxes. 

In terms of reach and listenership growth (albeit often a very passive listener), it doesn’t seem like there’s anything I can do at press or radio that will replicate what a big Spotify fluke can do for an artist. The value of a ton of passive listeners is very debateable, but without that visible audience, it’s harder to get the opportunities for bigger features and better bookings. 

Music is kind of like a kegger where everyone thinks someone else is bringing the beer. The artist hopes the press will bring an audience; the press hopes an artist will bring an audience, but realistically, we may just have to put our own hands in our own pockets, buy a six-pack, hang out, and make the most of our time together. 

When the label started in 2009, I wasn’t putting releases on Spotify and iTunes, which I regret now, as a couple of those artists could have more of an audience today if I had. However, last year, I worked with a young artist called Leilani Patao, who didn’t want their new EP on any streaming services. We’re now releasing the deluxe edition of it, and nothing has changed; you’ll only find it on Bandcamp and a handful of other download stores.

I don’t know what makes me believe in an artist or what makes me find one food delicious or another person beautiful. I don’t necessarily like all that much stuff, so it’s usually pretty clear when I do. Neurodivergent hyperfixations, etc.

The music itself is so subjective, and I’ve liked so much music that’s never made much of an impact in the world, I can’t say I have an ear that would tell me “this will be huge,” if that’s what I was looking for.

Q: At what point do you feel an artist actually needs a label?

A: There’s no set point and they may never need one. I’d say that whenever an artist wants to be on a label, and a label wants to represent them, that’s the perfect time! 

There are all sizes of artists and labels, so there’s no definitive answer. The bedroom artist who hasn’t played any shows probably doesn’t need to be on Universal, but if their music really speaks to someone with a DIY operation, they should ride that shit until the wheels fall off.

What I think is important for an artist is to be realistic with their expectations, so they can plan accordingly. If an artist isn’t making any money, it’s probably not because they don’t have a manager. If no one is buying their music, they don’t currently need national distribution. If no one knows they want to see them live, they don’t yet need a booking agent. My read is that these roles are essentially fulfillment partners for getting the music people want to the people who want it, and my best guess is that having any one of them, isn’t going to fill the void of not having an audience. 

In that situation, it’s probably better to focus your efforts on a sustainable mom-and-pop type effort that you can hopefully grow as your work reaches more people. I don’t think it’s wise to stall on doing the work yourself while you wait on the team that will elevate you overnight. They’re probably not coming, but you’re already here.

However, if an unestablished artist meets a first-time manager or a DIY label and those hungry divas wanna go nuts on self-promotion and mutual advancement, I think that could be great. Do the best you can with what you have. It’s my feeling that you’ll have a way better time booking a DIY tour as a small artist than you will cold calling booking agents who don’t have the capacity to take on an artist who isn’t guaranteed to bring in revenue.

Q: Is there a genre or sound you’ve become more open-minded toward over time?

No. Maybe? I like Sepultura a lot more now than I used to. Ministry also, I suddenly think that early Ministry rules. I bought some Patsy Cline and Rosanne Cash tapes from my local thrift store on Staten Island, and they’re pretty good. I randomly listened to McCartney by Paul McCartney recently, I’d never had any interest…but you know? He’s not bad.

Q: Catastrophic hard-drive failure: Which three records absolutely need to survive?

A: This is tough to answer because most music exists either in the digital sphere or I have a hard copy, like a CD, lying around either in my flat or at my dad’s place back in the UK, or at least, it wouldn’t be hard to find a copy to buy.

So, for me, there’s a song called “Dogs is Dogs” by The Rifle Volunteer, which used to be on their MySpace profile. The song isn’t available anywhere now, but an ex-member sent me a low-res MP3 of it many years ago. I don’t even know how I contacted him at the time, so if that’s ever gone, it’s really gone.

Audio Antihero OG Jack Hayter, formerly of Hefner, was also in a wild Alt. Country Band called Spongefinger. They had an album, ‘Pearloid Blue,’ that’s just mesmerising. It’s not available digitally; there are only two copies for sale on Discogs right now, both in Greece. It’s an album that feels like it could just vanish overnight, one of those “I could have got the CD for $30, but I hesitated” things, only for it to never be seen again. 

Lastly, I guess I’d just be pretty sad if the recordings from my teenhood band, Arko Volcano, ever got lost. My experience of life is that it just kind of gets sadder and smaller, so it’s a wee bit magical to hear myself at that age, just swinging for the fences, even if I mostly missed. I should put them up somewhere, I guess, but we weren’t very good.

It’s funny, though. Audio Antihero basically began as trying to save the Nosferatu D2 album from sitting on a hard drive, and more recently I got in touch with the aforementioned Darren Hayman of the also aforementioned Hefner to tell him that his digital catalogue was a bit messy with missing titles, catalogue spread across duplicate profiles, and things like that. Since then I’ve been helping to resolve that, and we should have something new/missing up every two weeks for the foreseeable future. There’s different categories of “missing” in that sometimes that means “not on streaming,” or “you have to buy an old CD,” but there’s so much more that’s just on his hard drive, some of it makes it out as part of his Never-Ending Singles Club, but there’s some stuff we really got rescue and release. People should listen to more Darren Hayman and more Hefner.

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