A Bummer of a Different Kind

I'm going to set politics aside and write on a subject near and dear to me--intellectual property and performing rights organizations, or PROs. Almost all songwriters and publishers who are trying to make a living with their music belong to a PRO. The PRO collects royalties for performance, usually through a licensing arrangement, and pays the songwriter. If the Dixie Chicks want to perform "Teach Your Children," which Graham Nash wrote, they pay his PRO, and his PRO pays him. Often, local pubs pay a fee to one PRO and ask that musicians playing there only perform songs licensed by that organization. Or, in many cases, the local pubs don't bother to pay anything.
Lately, the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) has been lowering the boom on pirated recordings, in some cases chasing down teenagers who download music. That may be why the PROs have taken to cracking down on such things as open mike nights. That might not be a problem when they close down an open mike night at a local.
The problem arises that there aren't as many locals as there used to be. There are a lot of national chains, and national chains are run from national offices.
My singing partner, Rog, and I had a great gig lined up at a Caribou Cafe near my home. It was going to be great--just the right time to start promoting our CD. The problem is that the lawyers got to the corporate executives in the home office. Corporate executives are not always the sharpest knives in the drawer, and like dull knives everywhere, they didn't cut very well. They issued an edict that all musical performances in Caribou Cafes must cease until further notice (with the implicit "or else.") The performance that we were going to play was sponsored by the Songwriters Association of Washington. As a songwriter, I can assure you that when I play a Songwriters Association venue, I'm doing it to play my music. As much as I love their music, Neil Young, James Taylor, Glenn Frey, Brian Wilson, and everybody else can paddle their own damn boats. If Rog and I are playing a full evening, we'd surely work in some covers, but not when we're doing a one-hour set at a Songwriters Association venue. And who owns all of the rights to our songs? We do.
So what happens is that the organizations that are supposed to exist to protect songwriters are, in fact, harming us. Thanks a lot, guys.
The more I think of it, it's kind of like the "Better safe than sorry" mentality that so many people seem to live by these days.