Jack Conte, Patreon, and the Plight of the Creative Class

It's 11:16 am on a Saturday, and Jack Conte—bright-eyed, bushy-bearded—is zigzagging around a cramped Los Angeles recording studio, dodging eight musicians, two cameramen, a sound engineer, and a profusion of instruments, cords, and mic stands. “Let's do it!” he cries out, sounding martial and chipper at once, like a high school drama teacher. Conte's been…

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