You Only Have to Be Right Once by Randall Lane Page A

Perkins reportedly invested close to $100 million at a $1 billion valuation. “Daniel was an entrepreneur that we had to, and wanted to, work with,” said Accel’s Jim Breyer. “The combination of a passion for music as well as his idea of making music as frictionless as possible for discovery and sharing is where we hit it off.” Ek still held about 15 percent of the company. Thanks to all that seed money, Lorentzon owned some 20 percent. With a valuation, by the summer of 2014, swelling toward the $4 billion range, both seem poised for billion-dollar scores.
    Facebook deserves a lot of credit, as well. The social media giant is embedded into Ek’s platform, and vice versa. Those billions of shared songs don’t happen by accident. “I don’t think there’s a Facebook app so well-resourced,” said Ek. “We wanted it perfect.” Added Zuckerberg: “He clearly is very forward-thinking on where he wants to go. He’s very clear on the things he wants for the product and what he doesn’t want.”
    The real threat to Ek, ultimately, isn’t his product—it’s the industry Spotify purports to save. Spotify will only be as successful as its music library. While almost every band has capitulated to the stream (the Beatles, one of Ek’s favorites, still haven’t played ball), others, like the Black Keys and Radiohead, have complained about the cut given to artists, despite $1 billion-plus paid in royalties to date. Scooter Braun, agent to Justin Bieber, understands the thinking but told me: “They should then tell radio not to play records for free and call YouTube and say don’t allow my music to stream on videos for free.”
    Similarly, Ek remains vulnerable to record labels, which control all that music. Wisely, Ek brought the big players into the tent—as part of the original licensing deals, Spotify granted equity stakes to the four largest music labels (Warner, Universal, EMI, and Sony) and Merlin. Industry sources put their collective cut at nearly 20 percent. But those stakes, while significant, aren’t enough to automatically quell an insurrection. Ultimately Ek needs to change the power dynamic, and create the world’s dominant music source, a hit maker so big no label or artist can afford to opt out.
    That’s why he opened up Spotify to developers: He’s hoping they’ll turn it into a universal music platform, while allowing him to focus his full-time team, now 1,200 strong, solely on growth. “Google has 30,000 employees,” Ek said. “A part of me wonders, What if they were all focused on really solving search?” He took out his iPhone. Using its Siri voice software, he asked it when tomorrow’s first appointment begins. After a few seconds the computerized voice replied, 11:00 a.m. “Imagine if this was three times as fast or truly understood my intent,” said Ek. “It’s probably the biggest threat to Google; it’s a whole new way of interacting.”
    Did he plan on building a voice-activated Spotify interface? He flashed a mischievous smile. “Play me some Coldplay,” he told the phone. Its small speakers ring out with the opening piano chords of the band’s hit “The Scientist.” “We hacked into it a few weeks ago,” Ek said, with a satisfied nod. “I’m not an inventor. I just want to make things better.”

  CHAPTER 6  
    Aaron Levie, Box:
The Man Who Would Be Gates
    It’s a measure of a phenomenon when an entrepreneur in his twenties raises more venture money than almost anyone in history ($414 million), yet gets privately critiqued for the “small” fortune he’s left for himself ($100 million). Aaron Levie, founder of Box, clearly has a bigger prize in mind than just making himself rich—he’s determined, with a stunning amount of moxie, to take on and defeat the biggest giants in