All posts tagged Everett True

  • A Conversation With Andrew Ramadge, news.com.au and music journalist

    Andrew Ramadge, journalist. Serious business.Here’s a conversation I had in August with Andrew Ramadge [pictured right], one of my favourite Australian journalists. He writes about consumer technology for news.com.au, and music for Mess+Noise and The Brag. He came to my rescue when I was humbled by Hungry Kids Of HungaryHe’s written a lot, but my favourite article of his – the one that really brought him to my attention – is ‘Tall Tales And True‘, a look at the state of Australian music journalism for M+N in March 2009.

    Andrew: Hey Andrew. I’m mostly interested in how you got into journalism, and how you’ve progressed from print to online journalism. When did you first become interested in writing professionally?

    My father was a journalist and he still is. He edits a newspaper now. When I was a bit younger, I swore that I wouldn’t get into the media, that I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, which as you can tell; I failed at. [laughs]

    The first time I realised I really loved writing was when I was at university, in Melbourne. I was doing a Bachelor of Arts. Most people do a Bachelor of Arts when they don’t know what else to do, or when they just want to get on the dole for a while. I was one of those people who really enjoyed it. I loved writing essays, forming arguments, and at the same time I was reading the street press, and reading record reviews. I’ve always loved music. At that point, the street press critics were emerging writers and I thought I could do that as well. I sent in reviews to Beat and that’s how I got started.

    So music journalism was your way into the industry?

    Yeah, that and the fact that my father was a journalist, so I suppose people would say I always had it in me, anyway. After I finished my degree, I moved to Sydney. I was looking for work and a position was open at News.com.au and I took it. One of the reasons I got into online journalism was because I started my career as a web developer. I sort of had a little bit of experience in journalism, and a lot of experience in online. It seemed to be the perfect synthesis.

    Was the opportunity at News.com.au for a consumer tech journalist, or did that role evolve?

    I started off as a general news desk journalist. I was doing a little bit of sub-editing, a little bit of production work, as well as putting in calls, and just highlighting the news of the day. After I’d been there about a year or year and a half, I think, before News.com.au put in a new section for technology. Again, because I’ve got a background in computers, and online development, I was kind of a perfect fit. I applied for that job once it became available and I got it.

    Do you find it odd that you find you got a job at News without an internship or without that kind of way into the industry, which I know a lot of students do pursue?

    I suppose; I’d already been working when I was in Melbourne, for the street press, and also editing the website for Beat magazine online, so I had an online editor experience. Also, I think internships are becoming more rare nowadays. I think Fairfax may have actually suspended their cadetship program recently.

    I think the ways that people get into journalism now are different than they have been in the past. One up-and-coming technology journalists that I know is Ben Grubb, who’s also from Brisbane. He will have a career in the industry because a lot of people know him and are keeping an eye on him. He didn’t do a cadetship. He did it himself. He started a blog. He showed he had talent, ambition, and I suppose he went around making good contacts.

    Cool. What did you learn during your time writing for street press? You started as a freelancer, I suppose, and then you became a staff member when you were editing.

    Yeah, I started out writing reviews and features. At that point, Beat had a website, but it was pretty perfunctory. It wasn’t very good. I wrote a business case for the publishers of Beat magazine to start a new website for them, and then I built it and edited it. That’s that side of it.

    What I learned about writing when I was at street press was the same thing everyone learns, really, which is a pretty good introduction: some free CDs, you get to go to a lot of concerts and meet people and figure out how everything works, really. I also eventually learnt not to be precious, which is another good thing. I learnt that there are only so many times that you can get angry at an editor for changing a few of your words. After that happens for a few years, you sort of get used to it, which is a very good lesson to learn, especially for mainstream media where the editing process is a lot more intrusive.

    Mess+Noise mag. Photo by Dan Boud - boudist.com

    How did you make the transition to Mess+Noise?

    When I found out about Mess+Noise, I left Beat. I continued to edit their website but I stopped writing for them, by and large, and threw myself into Mess+Noise, which was the best experience I’ve ever had. It was wonderful.

    I joined them for issue two of the print magazine, after I’d seen issue one. That changed the way that I think about everything, really. I went from doing the regular street press thing, which is 400 word reviews and 1,000 word features, to just having free rein to do whatever I wanted. What I wanted to do for Issue 2 was write a 3,000 word piece, not about a particular band, but about a genre and scene in Melbourne, which at the time was the art rock scene, which was centered around the Rob Roy Hotel. That’s what I did.

    It was really liberating to just be able to do that. I also realised that anyone could do that. It’s if you have someone who promises they’ll publish it as well, you’ve got an extra impetus.

    When I joined Mess+Noise, the editor at the time was Danny Bos, and he really opened up a huge amount of possibilities for me. A bit later on, Craig Mathieson became the editor, and I learned a lot from him, as well.

    How did Mess+Noise come about? I’m not too familiar with its history as a print magazine, only the website.

    It grew out of another website, which I’m not 100% clear on the back story of, but it was called Mono. It was an Australian music website that was in the late ‘90s, I think. Danny Bos was a member of the team who did that.

    After Mono, Danny started Mess+Noise as a website. In some ways it was similar to how it is now. It was mainly a discussion board. He really wanted to put out a music magazine, so as soon as he got organised enough and got his money together, he started doing that. Then it was put out every 2 months for a bit over 2 years. There were 16 issues.

    I read that they were purchased by Destra a couple of years ago.

    Yeah.

    And as of late last year, they’re owned by The Sound Alliance.

    Yeah, that’s correct.

    How do you think this site got such a strong following and such a devoted, loyal audience? That’s always fascinated me. Its audience seems to be quite opinionated and quite passionate about the indie scene in Australia. How does that come about?

    Some of it was a follow on of momentum from Mono, so a lot of the people who used to talk about music on that website followed Danny to Mess+Noise. I also think it grew a reputation over the years of publishing really high quality music journalism, which if you do it for long enough, then it can get you a lot of respect and a lot of people following what you publish.

    Do you enjoy writing for the web more than print?

    A little while ago I had my first feature in The Weekend Australian; a full-page feature. I enjoyed writing it and seeing it in print, as well. But I suppose I’m one of those writers who is at the right age to still feel very nostalgic about print, which a lot of writers my age do. I had to come to the thinking that “just because it’s in print means that it’s necessarily better than the web”.

    Mess+Noise mag. Not sponsored by Eiffel 65.

    When I opened up the paper that weekend, I still liked reading it and seeing it there, but I realised it wasn’t as important to me as some of the stuff I’ve written for online. I think for me, that sort of distinction between print and the web is starting to go. It’s much more about the quality of the piece itself. It doesn’t matter where it’s published.

    You mentioned that a lot of people still think that what appears in print is perhaps more valuable and more valid than its web equivalent.

    Yeah.

    I think that might be related to the fact that print still pays quite well and it still has that professional reputation, whereas I suppose a lot of other online outlets aren’t..

    ..don’t have the same reputation and they don’t pay as well, is what I think you’re trying to say? It depends on the magazine, the newspaper, or the news website or whatever. Obviously, street press doesn’t pay very well at all. That’s a print title, whereas the website of Pitchfork Media might pay ten times as much as street press.

    Part of it is that. It’s not necessarily whether it’s print or web. It’s just the title that you’re writing for. I can tell you that at News.com.au, we pay our online freelancers a professional rate, the same rate that they would get if they were getting if they were writing for the Sydney Morning Herald in print.

    As for reputation, you’re right; with newspapers, let’s continue talking about the Sydney Morning Herald. That’s been around for what, a hundred or more years? I think it has been around for more than a hundred years. Over that time, it has built quite a reputation. If you work a few years in there, then – in a sense – the reputation brushes off on you.

    But I guess what we’re going to see now is that websites that have been around for a long time aren’t going to go away. The big websites that are there now, theoretically, are going to continue into the future. If they don’t, another website will take their place. They’ll build their own reputations, as well. Give it another 10 or 20 years and you might end up seeing that websites have a stronger reputation for breaking news or publishing quality journalism than print does.

    I guess time will tell on that. You mentioned online freelancers for News Limited titles earlier. Do they employ many of those at the moment?

    I’m not really sure how many freelancers we’ve got all up. I know that in the technology section, we’ve had several freelancers.

    I spoke to a guy from the Brisbane Times a couple of months back and he said they’d pulled all their freelancers because they couldn’t afford them.

    We haven’t dropped any of our freelancers, yet. I’m not sure that we will, either. I think everyone realises that at the moment, online publishers are trying to figure out how to make money, and they’re not being particularly successful. That’s a whole range of reasons, and obviously, that’s why both News Limited and News Corp internationally and Fairfax in Australia have both flagged that they’re probably going to be charging for content soon.

    I guess that’s why magazines and newspapers can afford to pay writers 70 cents or $1 per word, in some cases, because they do have a traditional advertiser base who understands the rates, and the magazine editors can apportion rates per what they receive from advertising.

    Obviously I’m generalising here and trying to make sense of it, but I can see that website editors might not have figured that out yet, which is where the debate about paid content comes in. They’re trying to monetise the user base.

    I’d be happy to talk to you about this off the record, but not on record, only because I don’t want my opinions on the matter to come back to haunt me at work.

    Fair enough. You mentioned you got your first piece published in the Weekend Australian. How did you get that in there?

    Andrew Ramadge on tour with Laura in 2006

    Well, The Australian is owned by News Ltd, which is the parent company – the sister company of News Digital Media, which is the publisher of News.com.au. They had an article that they thought I’d be good at. They sent me an email.

    They approached you; that’s interesting. I’m sure, over the years, you’ve become familiar with and adept at pitching article ideas. When did you first start to do that, because I’m assuming that during your time at street press, you didn’t get much freedom to pitch new ideas.

    You’re right; I didn’t have a huge amount of freedom in what I could pitch. For example, I couldn’t pitch an article on a band that no one else but myself really cared about and that was never going to pay for advertising. Also, I couldn’t pitch for large opinion pieces or in-depth features that would have taken several pages. That’s not the way that street press works.

    I did have a little bit of freedom in being able to pitch about local bands. For example, if there was a really great band in Melbourne, I could pitch to the editor and if they ever had a spare half page or something, then I might be able to use that for a small article, which is one of the limitations of street press – and why I joined Mess+Noise was almost evolutionary for the way that I started working.

    I still had to pitch articles. What we used to have in the early editions of the magazine was an editorial board; when I say board, we just met at the pub, really. It was a group of writers and editors, and we’d all have to pitch what we wanted to do to the whole group.

    There were no limitations. We could pitch whatever we wanted. Half the time, everyone would be like, “Great, let’s do that.” That’s how I came to write 3,000 word articles about a particular scene. In one case, I think there was a 5,000 word article about one musician, or the ‘storytellers’ series, where I interviewed different musicians about how they came to write some of my favorite songs. That sort of stuff would never have been in street press, but it still was subject to a pitching process.

    You started with verbal pitching at the pub. Do you still pitch articles to your current editor?

    Of course. Now that I’m working for a big company like News Limited, pretty much every article that I write has to go through a pitching process.

    How does a story idea come about? Do you read something you’re interested in and you think about the angle you’d like to take? Or in some cases, would there would be a news event you have to write on, or your editor asks you to write about?

    It’s probably a mix of both, about half the time an editor asks me. There are different sorts of editors; there’s a technology editor, and then there is also whoever is actually running the news portion, whether it is the morning editor or the afternoon editor. Something might be going on that they want a story about, so they’ll ask you to write.

    The other half of the time you’ll pitch an idea of your own. You’re exactly right; those ideas come from things that you’ve read or perhaps you’ve had a tip from a source, or whatever. Also, the other thing to note is that your story won’t always come through. You might get a tip off and investigate it but find out later that it’s either not worth the story, or someone told you the wrong thing, or it doesn’t stand up.

    What makes a good editor?

    I’ve worked with different publications and different styles of publications. Obviously, a magazine editor is very, very different than a breaking news editor. By breaking news I mean somewhere at a pace like News.com.au, which tries to stay up with what’s current 24 hours of the day, 7 days of the week, and tries to be informative about what’s going on at that very moment.

    I’ll talk about magazine editors in general, only because that’s where I’ve written a lot more of my feature articles for. In a good editor you need confidence; to not accept any bullshit, either. If someone doesn’t like something, they need to tell you and that’s fine. You also need to be very supportive of your writers.

    Do you see yourself becoming an editor in the future?

    Yeah, and I think I’d really like that as well, but no time soon. I’m not done with my writing yet. There are still a lot of things that I want to write.

    You have News.com.au and you’ve got Mess+Noise occasionally. Do you have any other publications that you write for?

    Mess+Noise magazine. I believe this is 'Sir' on the cover.Yeah, I’ve been involved with Mess+Noise for a very long time now, and I used to be an editor there. I was editing the reviews and opinion section of the magazine before it went online. I still write for them whenever I can. It’s just a matter of finding the time now, because I’ve got a full time job and it’s very demanding.

    I also have a weekly column in The Brag called Pop In Print. Last year I published an essay for Overland, which is a literary journal. In the future, I’d like to continue publishing pieces in places like Overland and Mess+Noise, which favor in-depth, long-form journalism.

    I saw you comment on ‘Tall Tales And True‘ where someone asked you what you got paid for the article. You told them that you’ve long since given up on expecting to be paid for everything you write, and instead you try to focus on what you’re passionate about and telling the best story you can. If you get paid, that’s a bonus. Does that come back to not being precious, which you mentioned earlier?

    No, it’s not about being precious, this one. When I first joined Mess+Noise, when it was a magazine, I didn’t get paid for any of the articles that I was writing at that point, only because Mess+Noise didn’t have any money. It was a love job, a do-it-yourself job. Basically, it was just a zine, a very pretty and very high quality zine, but it was still a zine.

    Now, I’m really passionate about this; everyone needs to pay the rent, and I suppose I’m lucky enough that I can pay the rent by being a journalist during the day. Even if I couldn’t, I’d still prefer to get a day job and then write about what I want, out of hours, without having to worry about whether or not it’s going to contribute to the rent.

    The reason being is that there’s a huge weight lifted. You can write about whatever you want if you don’t worry about whether or not you’re going to get paid for it. A lot of the best things I’ve ever written were for no money and I went into it knowing, and just stopped being concerned. If that’s not a concern, it frees you up to actually prioritise what you really want, which is: “I’ll write this exactly how I want, about what I want.” I’m a big fan of do-it-yourself culture.

    It’s interesting because you did that for Mess+Noise and you started with street press, which as you say pays pretty poorly, and in many cases, for all contributors, it’s a love job. The people who write for it love writing about music. Do you find the time to write for pleasure lately? I notice you haven’t been updating your blog very often.

    The blog is simply a collection of the things that I publish in Brag, so it’s about 6 months behind the print version at the moment. I don’t have a lot of spare time lately. Hopefully, that will change.

    Do you have any daily routines?

    No, I’m incredibly disorganised. [laughs] My routine at work depends on what’s going on during the day and what I’m going to try to do in that day. If you’ve got a day where you can go and try to find a new story and break some news, your routine will be a little bit different than when something is broken in North America overnight and you’re following it up.

    Are you a procrastinator?

    Sometimes, yeah. It’s funny; when it comes to my writing outside of work, the writing I do after 9 to 5, I tend to leave things a little last minute.

    Has that been a problem?

    Yeah, it can definitely be a problem sometimes. One of the biggest problems it can cause is to add to your stress level. I don’t think anyone would argue that people who are a bit more organised tend to get less stressed out about things and stressed out about getting things in at the last minute. Then again, it depends. Every writer that I’ve ever met works in completely different ways. I’m not too worried about it.

    I ask that question of a lot of people, if they procrastinate and how they deal with it. It’s definitely a recurring theme, especially with writers, to sit on a task you know you’ve got until the very end, at the last possible moment. I often think that working that way is possibly sacrificing the potential quality of the piece. If you’re rushing to have it done by a certain time, you’re not fully thinking about the issue, unless you want to argue that by mulling it over for so long it’s just ticking away in your subconscious and you know exactly what you’re going to write.

    Andrew Ramadge

    I believe very strongly in the second model, which is that even if I’m not writing something, if I’ve been thinking about it for a month, what I end up writing in the last day of that month will probably be pretty good. Not probably, actually a lot better than if I’d started on the first day of the month. I can guarantee you I would have been sitting there thinking about the issue for the 30 days before I started writing.

    It’s interesting how that works. How do you find new music to write about?

    To be honest, probably this year, I’m not writing about new music as much as I have done in the past. As you know, the column that I write every week is about old music. I think that’s probably because when I was editing the review section of Mess+Noise a few years ago, I was totally caught up in everything that was happening that week. I suppose just for a change of pace, when I started doing my column, I started focusing more on what was really important to me and what I was really passionate about. Every record I write about now is not necessarily new but I think it’s got something in it, a reason for people to listen to it, or a reason for people to read about it.

    How do you find new music to listen to?

    Nowadays I rely a lot on my friends. As you would imagine, a lot of my friends are music critics and they’re probably doing what I used to do, which is keeping on top of things that happen every week, new releases, and who’s touring. Anything they recommend to me I usually give it a try.

    So you kind of take the back seat these days and let others drive?

    A little bit. I don’t necessarily want to do that forever, but at this point in my career and life, I’m pretty happy having music recommended to me, rather than searching it out all the time, but again, that’s just because of time constraints. I don’t have as much time as I used to, and I’m also no longer a reviews editor, so I don’t get quite as many CDs sent to me.

    Thanks for your time, Andrew!

    Andrew Ramadge writes for the Technology section of news.com.au. For an outdated list of his writing, check his MySpace and Pop In Print. He’s also on Twitter.

  • triple j mag story: ‘Sing, Sync, Score’, October 2009

    Here’s my first story for jmag, the monthly music magazine published by Australian youth radio station triple j. It’s 1450 words on alternate revenue streams for three Australian artists in three areas: TV commercial sync licensing, TV series sync licensing and iPhone app licensing.

    I interviewed Michael Tomlinson of Yves Klein Blue, Nick O’Donnell of 26, Karnivool manager Heath Bradbury, Robert Spencer of Staring Man Studios, Jamie Brammah of Hook, Line & Sync, and Isabel Pappani of Undercover Tracks. Click the below image to read the full-sized article; its text is included underneath.

    November 2009 jmag article: Insider Sing, Sync, Score

    Sing, Sync, Score

    Digital distribution allows artists’ music to be heard around the world on a wider range of mediums – and at a faster rate – than ever before. Musicians’ income is no longer delineated via just recorded music sales, gig attendance and merch desk turnover: in 2009, an artist can license their work to many commercial ventures. ANDREW MCMILLEN looks at three avenues.

    26: TV series sync licensing

    In April 2009, Brisbane indie rock band 26 had their song ‘A New Beginning’ placed in the season finale of the NBC TV show Life. The opportunity arose after the band licensed their music to Brisbane boutique sync agency Hook, Line & Sync, who specialise in pitching unsigned music to film and television executives across the world. What did the Life placement mean to 26?

    Guitarist and vocalist Nick O’Donnell admits: “It had a massive effect. We went from doing regular indie band sales – where people stumble across you for whatever reason – into the thousands. The particular NBC music supervisor who placed our song makes a point of featuring indie bands and pumping the music up in the mix, rather than just featuring as a background soundtrack.”

    O’Donnell believes that the opportunity – while undoubtedly assisted due to Hook, Line & Sync’s industry connections – was largely serendipitous. “It’s more a case of the music supervisor going after a specific sound, than a band saying, “We’re really great! We’d be perfect for your atmospheric, movie-like soundtrack!” It doesn’t work like that, at all. Music supervisors have a list of what they want: the tempo, lyrical themes, sound, and whether they want an indie act. For example, they might have already had ‘Clocks’ by Coldplay set in the mix, but since they can’t afford to license ‘Clocks’, they want someone who sounds similar.”

    O’Donnell remains buoyant about 26’s first sync deal. “It’s certainly given us more of a hunger to present our stuff to more things like that,” he admits. “Sync deals are something you really want to continue happening. There hasn’t been anything negative from it.”

    The big question, though: what did the opportunity mean to the band financially? “What we got was a fairly small licensing fee, which is the up-front money they pay you to make the placement. I’m told we got a pretty good average deal for an indie. We’ll get back-end payment as well, from royalties. Once those come in, we get royalties of it being played in 24 or so countries.”

    Having been yet to see the royalty cheque, do 26 have any idea what the number on it might read? “We have no idea,” O’Donnell admits. “That’s one thing that’s up in the air.”

    Yves Klein Blue: TV commercial sync licensing

    A young couple playfully load their car from the third story window. The soundtrack? Yves Klein Blue’s equally playful indie rock tune, ‘Polka’. You may have witnessed the 30-second Mitsubishi Lancer Hatch ad a hundred times in the last 12 months. But how did it come about? Singer/guitarist Michael Tomlinson elaborates.

    “The ad company contacted our manager, sent through the ad, and we asked how much they’d pay. And after a brief conversation about the amount, we agreed to have the song placed on the ad. It was the first time we’d agreed to an ad placement; the most important thing to us was that the ad wasn’t a bad match. It wasn’t offensive in its product or execution, so we said ‘yes’.”

    “To us, having ‘Polka’ placed in the Mitsubishi ad simply gave us a wider market reach. It doesn’t really matter how people hear our songs. So if ‘Polka’ is forever to be associated with Mitsubishi Lancers, then so be it. A lot more people heard it as a result, so I have no problems with that.”

    What did the sync deal mean for the band’s back pockets? “It was wonderful. It wasn’t totally lucrative, but at the same time it’s really helped us pay for our tours. We haven’t seen any of the money personally – we’re not swanning around in luxury cars – but it’s been a fantastic, positive experience.”

    “It’s tough to tour Australia,” Tomlinson states. “Until you can charge a decent amount for your shows and know that you’ll sell out a large room, it’s quite difficult to make a profit on touring. Being in a band is like digging a huge hole, taking all the money you’ve ever earned, throwing it into the hole, and burning it. People ask me if I have a job, and I have to reply ‘kind of’, because being in a band, it doesn’t pay money; it just takes money all the time,” he half-jokes.

    Despite their win with ‘Polka’, Tomlinson is unsure whether they’ll be able to re-bottle sync-lightning. “I have no idea about how one would go about putting their song ‘in harm’s way’, so to speak. I’m not sure how we were selected, or whether we’ll ever be selected again.”

    Some closing advice: “Sync deals are definitely worth doing, but make sure a lawyer reads everything,” Tomlinson cautions. “Their fees are high, but it’s better to pay them and be safe, rather than sign something that you can’t get out of.”

    Karnivool: iPhone app licensing

    In July 2009, West Australian gaming studio Staring Man released an iPhone application named Pools Of Blood, which allows handheld gamers to defend their tower from hordes of incoming orcs. As the player rotates their perspective to vanquish foes, a hard rock song seems to drive the pace: Perth band Karnivool licensed their single ‘Set Fire To The Hive’ for the game. Staring Man CEO Robert Spencer describes how the studio came to work with one of Australian’s most revered hard rock acts.

    “We were developed the game for a couple of months, but it seemed to be missing something. We started talking about background music; as rock fans, we agreed upon Karnivool.” Serendipity is a recurring theme among these three licensing opportunity examples. “We called their management and discovered that it was really convenient timing, because we were working on the game at the same time they were finishing up their second album, Sound Awake.”

    Karnivool’s manager Heath Bradbury confirms: “It was a targeted approach from Staring Man, which is part of the reason why we went ahead with it. It wasn’t just a random request for a game soundtrack; it was a request to work directly with the band. And in terms of running a successful gaming company from the most isolated capital city in the world, we can empathise with some of the Perth-based trials and tribulations!”

    Spencer continues: “Once we heard ‘Set Fire To The Hive’ we had to increase the gameplay pace! But our original vision was so close to that sound, so it worked out really well. Both ‘Hive’ and Pools Of Blood are departures from what both groups are known for.” In addition to the gameplay in Pools Of Blood, Staring Man built in a Karnivool portal that lists upcoming tour dates, band news and provides a link to buy their music on iTunes.

    Manager Bradbury is positive about the experience: “I think we’ll have an ongoing relationship with Staring Man. As Karnivool releases roll out in different territories, we’ll start to see how effective Pools Of Blood has been as a marketing tool. At this early stage, it’s hard to get a tangible idea of the impact that opportunities such as this have on a band’s profile.”

    “Financially, licensing is one of the few great areas of the music industry,” Bradbury laughs. “I think it’s going to be more important that managers have direct relationships with the people that run gaming companies and other licensing entities.”

    Boxout: Shelling Out

    You’ll note reluctance on the bands’ part to divulge exactly what these licensing deals meant for the bank accounts, and for good reason: how would you feel about being asked what your art is worth?

    Jamie Brammah of Brisbane-based music licensing agency Hook, Like & Sync says: “For an Australian indie band’s song to be placed on US network television, the upfront fee can range from $1,000-$5,000. It really comes down to negotiation, and how badly they want the track.”

    With regard to TV commercial sync deals, Isabel Pappani of California-based licensing agency Undercover Tracks says: “I’ve licensed Australian music to local commercials for $8,000, up to $100,000-plus for nationwide. A new push lately is ‘gratis licensing’, where companies don’t offer an upfront fee. Their justification is that the exposure results in adequate artist compensation. The licensing industry isn’t happy with this, but they argue that there’s always someone to take the deal.”

    Here’s the original pitch I sent to jmag.

    Alternative revenue streams for Australian artists, focussing on

    • iPhone applications
    • TV commercial licensing
    • TV show sync deals
    • Video game sync deals

    Premise: digital distribution allows artists’ music to be heard around the world on a wider range of mediums – and at a faster rate – than ever before. Let’s highlight some success stories in these fields, and include some ‘quick tips’ gleaned from the artists interviewed at the end of the article, for bands looking to jmag November 2009 issuemaximise their online exposure and potential to be chosen for these opportunities.

    My intended source for the video game sync deal didn’t come through in time, but the story felt complete with three bands’ experiences in sync licensing.

    I submitted the initial article on September 8. A rewrite request came through from triple j on October 1, and I sent through the final copy on October 8. The main change was the ‘shelling out’ boxout, which provides some $ figures on what these deals mean for bands.

    The story’s in the November 2009 issue of jmag [pictured right], which also features a couple of my live reviews (Metronomy and Paul Dempsey).

    Thanks to Jenny Valentish, Everett True and Nick Crocker.

  • Big Sound 2009: Online Publishing Panel Notes

    On September 9, 2009, I moderated a discussion panel at Big Sound called ‘Blogging, Twittering and Online Publishing: Tastemaking or Time-Wasting?‘. Here’s the precis, taken from the Big Sound site:

    The whole world is online! Whether you’re typing essays for eager fans or 140 character pearls of wisdom, online publishing is quickly becoming the new bastion of communication and online journalism. What is Twitter and why would you use it? How do you start a blog and why would you? Is this online thing just a waste of time? Find out how those that do it well do it and find out why those that fail miss the point.

    The panel featured the input of the following gentlemen [pictured left-right; photo by Justin Edwards just before the discussion began]:

    Online Publishing panel, Big Sound 2009. Deep in thought.

    These were the suggested points of discussion:

    • How important is blogging and online publishing in communicating with music fans?
    • Is Twitter everything it’s hyped up to be?
    • How can you use social networking online to promote your band and how SHOULDN’T you?
    • What’s the best way to start a music blog and what does the audience want?
    • What does online publishing mean for music journalism?

    A couple of days before the panel – notably, after I’d put it off for a fortnight – I sent the following email to the group.

    Hi gents,

    In addition the points of discussion that were provided, I’m going to touch upon on the following topics.

    When I have you introduce yourselves, I’m going to ask each of you:

    • When did you last buy music?, and
    • How do you find new music?

    Online engagement for bands: how much is too much?

    Reading reference: http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/index.php/archives/2009/08/14/more-imogen-heap/ and particularly this Imogen Heap quote: “About 5% of my time goes to actually making music sadly. The rest is promo, technical, planning, running around, schedules..blah”

    • Artists have a range of tools and mediums with which to connect to fans; tools such as Twitter et al have lessened the gap between fan and artist. But at the same time, if their attention is focussed on the screen instead of their instruments, will their art suffer?
    • Everett and Jakomi, I’ll use your experience of the pre-web era to draw comment on what it was like when you didn’t have the ability to know where your favourite bands were or what they were doing at that very instant.
    • The ‘always on’ internet culture allows conversation to occur across the world instanteously. Has this removed some of the mystique that has historically attracted audiences to artists and performers? What are the implications?

    Old vs new models of online promotion. Reference: http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2008/03/the-live-music.html

    • It’s a long article, so you’re forgiven for not reading the whole thing. But Godin’s point – here, and throughout his work – is that for musicians, it’s not a matter of shouting at everyone (the old model), but of whispering at your niche (the new model).
    • So instead of signing to a label who can fund mass marketing campaigns (radio, print, TV), it’s smarter for bands to work their existing audience to build it organically, while coming up with creative/interesting/share-able web campaigns to capture wider interest (eg. OK Go’s treadmill video – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pv5zWaTEVkI)
    • Jerry and Cam, have you found this to be the case during your time as a manager and artist, respectively?

    More Godin: as for messages to the fanbase from the artist, Godin suggests that these are to be ‘anticipated, personal and relevant’ in every instance. Fans should be thrilled to hear from their favourite bands, and disappointed when anticipated messages are delayed.

    • This is a lovely, utopian vision, but in the real world, is it viable?
    • Elliot, where do record labels sit within this vision? Is it just a matter of streamlining the process of delivering content from the band to the audience?

    Beyond musicians, where do label A&R folk belong in this web discussion?
    Reference: http://www.waycooljnr.com.au/2009/07/14/the-rise-of-blogranage-blog-patronage/

    • Historically, A&Rs are the people who’re exposed to enormous amounts of music, and who often dictate which bands are exposed to wider audiences.
    • Nick Crocker wrote: “I think A&R people at labels should start building their profiles online, developing a following and sharing their stories with fans. Inevitably, A&R people end up being hugely networked musically and build big, smart, connected networks of music lovers. They each have a market ready and waiting for their tales.”
    • Everett, I know you’re comfortable with calling yourself a tastemaker. Do you agree with Nick’s idea, that A&R people should establish themselves as tastemakers? What potential benefits would music fans receive?
    • Jerry, WhoTheHell.net has become a tastemaker after building an audience over several years. In your mind, what is the site’s role among music media? Would it be feasible to base a ‘new media’ music label on the WhoTheHell blog concept?

    Music criticism on the web has given everyone the ability to give their opinion about what’s good and what’s shit. Reference: http://andrewmcmillen.com/2008/11/26/gareth-liddiard-on-music-writing/

    • Gareth from The Drones wrote in a column for Ampersand Magazine: “Music criticism, to quote Chuck D: “You talk about it but you can’t do it.” But now that there is all this blogging shit going on critics have become like mild mannered primary school teachers trying to control their bitchy little charges. Which is funny cause nine out of ten critics are at uni. Blogging has cut the balls off music criticism. But even when critics are being cool it’s still weird. Rock’n’roll is pretty retarded and writing about it is really scraping the literary barrel. Why would you bother? Do something useful for fuck’s sake.”
    • Reactions from the panel? Jakomi, what’s your take on this?
    • Everett, what does this mean for established critics like yourself? I know it’s something you’ve been grappling with. (This’ll give you a chance to discuss your PhD and your findings thus far, perhaps?)

    We’ve focussed heavily on discussing online publishing. But what about the role of print music journalism?

    • Are print readers losing out due to the instantaneous commentary that occurs online, or does the latency/distance between the printed article allow a more measured, less hyperbolic approach?
    • What about album reviews? What’s the point of the reviews we read in street press and music mags, since in many cases by the time they’re printed, the web has already aggregated, rated and reviewed these releases?
    • Note that in July, Sydney street press The Brag opted to stop publishing album and live reviews due to budget quotes. (Source: http://www.messandnoise.com/discussions/1102027) In this instance, what’s the point of the mag, if they’re no longer willing to comment on the music itself?
    • Cameron, which printed music publications do you read? What do you gain from them that you can’t find online?
    • If print audiences are declining – and as a result, advertisers can’t justify their expenditure – where does this leave staffers of the printed article? As music fans, should we care? What do we stand to lose, other than these publications’ reputation and history?
    • Everett, I’ll rely on you here, as you’ve got a history in both publishing and writing for the web.
    • Jakomi, where do you see The Music Void sitting within this discussion? Why did you launch it as a website and not a magazine?
    • What are the alternatives to printed music journalism? What will the music magazine of the future look like?

    On the day, we discussed through most of the above, before 50-60 live human beings.

    I’m told the panel was both entertaining and informative, though by session’s end I was severely doubting the latter, after spending around 90 minutes talking about blogging, which is second only to talking about tweeting in terms of tedium.

    Ian Rogers of No Anchor at their Judith Wright Centre launch, 21 March 2009Ian Rogers of Brisbane bands No Anchor and AxxOnn [pictured right, playing live for the former] wrote this about the panel:

    “I write about myself because no one else will. And I write about music because it’s what I like and because it’s more interesting to other people than writing about babies”. And so Everett True, former Golden God of the British Press and present Brisbane resident introduced himself to the afternoon’s delegates. The panel was about digital publishing and contained a puzzlingly configuration of quiet bloggers (“Uhm, I just like getting the free records”) and industry boffins – one preconscious, one loud and angry. And Everett. Mr True acquitted himself well post-introduction, happily making whatever comment occurred to him – more often than not correct as I read it – as the industry folks shifted around in their seats wondering, ‘Who the fuck is this weird old guy?’.

    [I recommend you read Rogers’ summary of Big Sound days one and two – he’s fucking hilarious]

    In all, it was an enjoyable experience that I’d happily relive. Thanks to Big Sound executive programmer Stephen Green for asking me to take part. I know the panel was filmed by the event organisers so I’ll post the transcript and/or recording when they’re available. My wider thoughts on the event are here.

  • Drowned In Sound opinion piece: ‘RIP Music Journalism?’, July 2009

    Everett True, July 14:

    Hey Andrew

    Do you fancy bashing out 600w relating roughly to the changing role of the tastemaker music critic in web 2.0? I’m interested particularly on your own perspective, as a (relatively) new critic, trying to establish your own voice or authority via whatever means necessary (print/web). Does that appeal? No money, sorry. But plenty of kudos. Sigh.

    My response, July 17:

    I chose to become a music critic in Brisbane, Australia as a stupid 19-year old in June 2007, after reading a factually incorrect and otherwise poorly written review of a show that I’d attended. Two years later, I’d like to think that my critical analysis skills have markedly improved, but I’d probably be disappointed.

    I was surprised when Everett asked me to contribute to this topic. True and I have butted heads in the past, following that Guardian column with which you’re surely familiar. I experienced the same irrational reaction as most Australians who heard that he’d dismissed some of our so-called cultural icons (Silverchair, The Vines et al) – and felt some vague, nationalistic desire to defend the attack on our musicians.

    With tentative maturity, I’m able to step back and realise that True’s column evoked the role of the music critic in its purest form. Ignoring the overused angle that this was an Englishman taking swipes at Australians, True’s words raised the nation’s ire because he had the balls to embrace the true role of the music critic – a role which I rarely embody, voluntarily. And therein lies the original complaint: that so few are willing to write what so many feel.

    I am a diluted version of the tastemaker critic with which older readers will identify – and which True became during his time at NME, Melody Maker and Plan B – largely because I tend to only write about music that excites me. While I agree there’s something to be gained by fairly critiquing half-baked or undeservingly over-exposed acts, it’s a writing style that I’ve distanced myself from. And, as True correctly surmised, so has the majority of Australia’s music press.

    There’s an enlightening article by Andrew Ramadge on the Australian music website Mess+Noise that discusses the broader causes and effects of the dearth of honest criticism in Australian street press – that is, the free, ad-filled newspapers you pick up off the street. Ramadge’s piece belongs at the heart of this discussion, as it highlights the increasing divide between print and online music journalism.

    “One of the most important roles of music journalists is to record the history, or create the folklore, of a particular time – to give music a context and a narrative,” Ramadge wrote. So to be a music journalist in the first place, you’ve got to want to to tell stories. It was this desire that led me down this career path – and I should point out that music writing has finally become a personal career-of-sorts, after I viewed it as a mere hobby for nearly two years.

    But – why write about music in the first place? This is a topic that other writers have already touched upon this week. It surely wasn’t about money when I began. I was first published on the Australian music website FasterLouder, who pay none of their hundreds-strong contributor pool across the nation. It’s an excellent business model – pay nothing, receive content for free – but the low stakes often mirror the quality of writing. I attempted to rail against the apathy and mediocrity by writing long, descriptive live reviews that maximised the benefits of the online format. With debatable success.

    At the same time, I began writing for one of Brisbane’s street press, Rave Magazine. Ramadge’s article suggested: “In many cases [street press] writers are paid as little as five cents per word for a story, and nothing for a review, with the CD or concert ticket considered payment in itself.” To say that Rave’s pay rates were modest would be understatement. Again, it’s a labour of love, but there’s only so much to be gained from adhering to the same format each week. Another of online publishing’s benefits.

    Mr True was also startled to learn that in two years writing for street press and FasterLouder, I’d never had a rewrite request. It wasn’t until I progressed to Mess+Noise that I was pulled up for sub-par copy. This is an extremely niche example based on my experience, but I’m supposing that this unwillingness for time-poor editors to provide guidance and advice to their writers may be symptomatic of a trend throughout Australia.

    While there’ll always be those who are willing to write passionately for free, one eventually reaches a point where $0 – or close enough – can’t cut it anymore. I’d wager that this is a feeling with which most music journalists will be familiar. Right, Everett?

    Print revenue streams are drying up, while online publishing is in a cautious period of course-correction. To quote Ramadge once more: “[the low pay rates] make it difficult for magazines to retain talented writers as their career progresses, or their costs of living rise.”

    There’s no money in this column. There’s no money in Everett’s guest edit. We do this because we love it. I’m far from a miser, but some money on occasional would be nice. As a freelance writer in Australia with an interest in music, there are few profitable avenues. There are only so many publications that’ll pay for well-researched, well-written music journalism, and they’re steadily decreasing.

    Where does this leave the state of music journalism, in the mind of this 21-year old Australian? It’s a given, but you’ve got to do it because you love it, first and foremost. Don’t ever expect thanks in return for your writing; indeed, do your best to expect nothin’ from nobody. That way, it’s hard to be disappointed.

    But do pursue passionate communities organised around a love of music and writing, such as Drowned In Sound. Do start a blog that acts as your portfolio. Do send your work to those who may gain something from it. Do write wherever you can, and do be prepared to write for free.

    After all, you’re a music journalist. You love it. Don’t you?

    Read the rest of the ‘RIP Music Journalism?‘ series on Drowned In Sound. Thanks for the invitation to give my input, Everett!

  • A Conversation With Christie Eliezer, music journalist

    Christie Eliezer: owns more reflective sunglasses than youChristie Eliezer. Dude is one of the mostly widely-read music journalists in the world. Though I first heard of Christie through his weekly Australian music industry round-up for themusic.com.au – which is syndicated in one of the publications I write for, Rave Magazine – I soon found that his influence extends far beyond that column. He’s written three music-related books; his latest, High Voltage Rock ‘N’ Roll, was released in 2007. I asked Christie for this interview because he’s a super-huge music journalist, and I wanted to know how he does it and why he loves it. Righteous.

    Christie, your weekly industry round-ups comprise a huge amount of information. Is this your full-time job on behalf of themusic.com.au?

    Writing is my full-time job, but writing for themusic.com.au is just one of the many things that I do. I actually write for about 23 different publications around the world on music, fashion, travel and new technology. In between this, I also do projects like “High Voltage“, which was released two years ago. I’m currently writing a film script.

    I syndicate a column of music industry news not just for themusic.com.au but also to Beat in Melbourne, The Brag in Sydney, Rave in Brisbane and dB in Adelaide. So each week I collect the news, and send different items to different magazines. I also write for the US magazine Billboard, so some of the column goes in there as well.

    I’ve seen your writing in Australian Musician, too. Which do you prefer writing – artist interviews or your weekly industry round-up – and why?

    Every aspect of writing is exciting. I must say, though, that artist interviews are more satisfying. You’re interacting with someone; you’re getting access to aspects of their music that few others do. It’s exciting when the interview goes well – when the journalist has done his or her research, and the artist is responsive. If it’s an artist who has especially touched your life, the feeling is unbeatable.

    The weekly roundup is a bit of a plod; lots of double-checking and hard work. Nothing glamorous there!

    christie_hv_cropYou must get sent newsworthy items for the round-up from many sources. How do you balance keeping the PR hyperbole in check in order to report on factual content?

    The whole idea is to present a picture of what’s been happening in the music scene in any given week. Sometimes it’s a thin line between hype and news. Generally if I feel comfortable, I’ll use the PR stuff. But a lot of the items are scoops and exclusives too, so it balances it out. The amount of people who feed me gossip is amazing!

    Are you your own editor, or is there someone within themusic.com.au who proofs your work each week?

    I always ask for the editors of magazines to look over my stuff. Sometimes when you’re rushing to finish a story, mistakes do slip in. Like the time when Bob Marley‘s band The Wailers were to tour here. My brain meant to say “The late Bob Marley’s former band The Wailers are coming”. But what I wrote — and I must have written it at 2 am — was “Bob Marley and The Wailers are coming”. This would have been a mite difficult as Marley had been dead for years.

    Anyway, one of the local radio stations had a great time sending me up, by saying I had the power to make people come to life.

    I read in High Voltage’s introduction that you became a freelance writer while still at school; what attracted you to this career?

    Partly to impress girls, and partly because I loved music and had a flair for writing. I used to spend a lot of time in record stores and played drums in a high school band – I wasn’t good, nor was the band. I remember the first time I saw the video for The Rolling Stones‘ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” which was so surreal and eerie that I knew I had to write about it.

    I sent a story to a magazine called Go-Set, and they sent me a cheque. As a 15-year old, this cheque was twice the amount of money I was earning cutting grass and cleaning gutters for neighbours.

    Jaggermouth: highly inspirationalSo I sent in another story. Back came another cheque. Another story. More cheques. Then the editor rang one day and asked if I wanted to interview The Rolling Stones. After that, I was hooked. Plans to become either a lawyer, a political journalist or a diplomat went out the window…

    You’ve been in the industry since before internet usage became widespread, and now you use its capacity for information dissemination to syndicate your column across the world. Can you describe some of the changes you’ve seen in the industry across your 30-odd year career?

    In terms of journalism, in the old days I had to “research” by going through old magazines. Now the internet gives me stuff in half a second – although, a lot of that info can be incorrect, so I do have to double check. Readers get news in seconds, so my approach to journalism is no longer just about breaking stories, but providing background to the stories.

    And yes, my stuff – not just the column, but the other stories I write – is used across the world as a result. Someone estimated I reach a readership of 2.5 million a week.

    In terms of the music industry, the short answer is that the music consumer is now in control. They can buy their record in a minute, which means the record stores or record companies who don’t have their music get ignored. There’s no longer the need to wait for weeks for delivery.

    In the ’70s, if a consumer wanted to watch a music TV show like “Countdown“, they had to wait around the house from 6pm to 7pm on Sundays. Now they can video tape it, or they can see them on their mobiles and watch while they’re on the move.

    The internet also means that music fans can find new styles and acts from other countries while surfing the net, they don’t have to wait for radio DJs or music journos to find these for them.

    However, readers will always follow respected music journos – the ones who help to find new acts for them.

    2.5 million readers per week – that’s astounding. How do you manage the responsibility associated with ensuring that your facts are correct; on deadline, do you just aim for ‘close enough’?

    If you have this attitude “close is enough”, people will stop reading you and magazines will stop paying for your stuff. You have to get it right. If you’re not sure, say you’re not sure. If not, keep the story for a week.

    Your comment about how readers will always follow respected music journalists is interesting. The manner in which blogs and web communities have allowed every punter to voice their opinion has resulted in powerful signals being lost amongst the noise; you’d understand this better than most. In this information age, how has the role of the music journalist changed?

    Christie Eliezer: more comfortable than youIt hasn’t changed all that much. A good journalist will provide info with honesty and impartiality.

    This is different from a blogger like Perez Hilton, who happens to hang out with artists and is now respected only because he breaks news stories. People love gossip!

    The role of the music journalist hasn’t changed much since you started writing?

    Nope, same as ever. Maybe there’s more of a need to be more responsible about what you write, because the internet takes you to billions of people, and you need to be careful of people’s reputations.

    What do you love about music writing?

    The sheer joy of an idea coming to fruition on the page. Your ideas are passed on to others. The biggest thrill is to do an interview which is so good that no-one else can match it.

    What makes an interview so good that no-one else can match it?

    You’ve got to research so well that the person being interviewed becomes comfortable and opens up. Doing the interview at their house helps.

    What do you hate about music writing?

    The long hours. Sometimes I have to work until 3 or 4 am. I love the fact it’s very quiet, but sometimes when the brain is tired, silly mistakes slip through.

    Do you get out to see bands often? What kind of music excites you?

    Yes, all the time! I also listen to demos, browse MySpace pages, talk to others in the music industry, and so on.

    My favourite music is hard rock – The Stones, Zeppelin, The Who, Foo Fighters – but I also like hip hop, R&B, folk and world music. Only country music is something I don’t like.

    How do you recognise a talented music journalist? Or, to phrase it another way: what qualities must a successful music journalist possess, in such a subjective industry that relies heavily upon personal tastes?

    You can be impartial, or, given that music is such a personal taste, be subjective. I personally think you make more impact if you’re impartial with a touch of subjectivity.

    Not exactly a question, but I’m guessing you have an enormous record collection.

    25,000 CDs counted five years ago. Probably close to 30,000 now.

    Whoa. Hefty. What’s your preferred method of listening to music?

    CD or radio. If I turn it up, I like the music. If I turn it down, it’s crap. Very simple really.

    So the iPod’s not good enough for Christie Eliezer?

    iPods are banned at the Eliezer residence. Into the bin!

    No, to be honest. The music’s on all day: either through the CD player in my study, or on the radio when I’m driving, or when I’m checking out acts on MySpace.

    So sometimes it’s nice to take a break. I don’t listen to iPods even though people have given me some as gifts. On long trips, for instance, I prefer to read books or watch movies, just to get a break from music.

    How do you keep your criticism in check when reporting on artists whose music you find terrible?

    You either ignore them, or try like hell to find something!

    You’re speaking at Brisbane’s Big Sound music industry summit in September 2009. Who approached you with this opportunity, and what are you planning to speak about?

    I was approached by Stephen Green, who runs Big Sound.

    Most likely I’ll talk about the need for acts to foster a strong relationship with the media, the need for them to create a strong image, and the best ways to market their acts.

    I spoke at the Fuse Festival in Adelaide in March; I had to turn down speaking at music conferences in Tasmania and Darwin in July because I’ll be overseas, and I’ll be a panellist at the Australasian Music Business Industry conference in Sydney in August.

    What do you enjoy about public speaking? Does it come easily to you, or do you find it difficult to step out from behind the pen, so to speak?

    I used to be terrified in the early days. I was always nervous, and often wondering whether I was being boring or mediocre. But nowadays, I am quite relaxed, and I do enjoy it.

    Music critic Everett True believes in being memorable, above all else, because “if you’re not memorable, then why the fuck are you writing about music?” Agree or disagree?

    Depends on what you are being “memorable” for. Because you’re talented with great taste in music, or you can provide a new perspective to an issue? That’s fine.

    Or because you’re controversial? Or just being trendy? Because you bag big names? The last three reasons are crap.

    Do you strive to be memorable in your writing? What do you want the memory of Christie Eliezer to be associated with?

    Step 1: Write about music. Step 2: ???? Step 3: Babes and profit.

    My writing is going to be around for ages, long after I’ve karked it. So I want to leave a worthy piece of work behind. If there’s a legacy, it’s that Christie Eliezer was part of a movement of rock journalists that improved the quality of rock journalism in Australia and abroad.

    I’d hope people remember me as a writer who was fair and knowledgeable. More importantly, I hope that I made a difference to someone, somewhere.

    Finally – you started music writing to impress girls, or at least in part. Did it work?

    Bloody oath, mate! But I must admit that my singer mates got the good-looking ones, my roadie mates got the ugly ones, and I got the ones who wanted to read poetry to me!

    Be a music journalist, get the babes. I knew I started writing about music for a reason. Thanks, Christie. He can be contacted via email. His excellent Australian music industry weekly round-up is updated each Tuesday afternoon.

  • Musings on Music Writing and Everett True

    Pig City author Andrew Stafford interviewed Everett True before an audience at Brisbane’s Barsoma last week, and I was one of the nineteen in attendance. True incurred the wrath of Australian mainstream music fans in August, upon which I commented at the time. The event was held as a pilot for QMusic‘s proposed series of music-related public interviews, and while it was poorly attended, I have a feeling that this was due to minimal promotion on QMusic’s part. Some retrospective Googling uncovers that a few sites picked the event up, but it still flew under my radar; evidently, I wasn’t the only one.

    During a Q&A discussion about critical discourse within music writing, or the lack thereof, one audience member asked the group how many writers from Brisbane’s local street press were in attendance. My hand was the only one in the air, which he then used to attempt to prove a point about local writers’ general apathy, or something. But dude, come on. I only found out about the event after being nudged by a fellow FasterLouder writer.

    Everett stated in his characteristically humorous, self-promotional manner that his goal as a writer is to make everyone jealous of Everett True, and to make people talk about Everett True. In his words: “if you’re not writing to be read, then why the fuck are you writing?”. He and Andrew spoke about street press audiences, critical discourse within music writing, and established that all music writing is inherently subjective, which is something I’ve long since realised. It’s foolish to ever attempt to hide behind the veil of objectivity when discussing music you either do or don’t like.

    The interview and resulting discussion certainly prompted internal debate regarding my writing method and purpose. I came up with a few answers, but I expect more to reveal themselves to me in time.

    I review concerts primarily for free entertainment, and because live music is the most exciting and readily available form of public entertainment I’m comfortable with. The fulfilled expectations, the brilliantly unpredictable deviations from the standard rock ‘n’ roll script: those are the moments that excite me. There are loads of bands – local, national, international – with whom I’ll happily share my evening.

    Of late, I’ve become more concerned with sound dynamics and artistic merit than a conventionally ‘entertaining’ performance, which often translates to the musicians occasionally ambling around stage. This may be simple subterfuge on my part, as I’ve recently become enamored of enormous-sounding shoegaze-type bands, though as ever, I still find the time and place for tastelessly entertaining bands – Bluejuice is the example that springs to mind.

    I write about these events because I fucking love them. There’s also the attached personal challenge of whittling several hours of physical and musical theatre down to a few hundred words.

    Audience has never been a huge concern for me, and still isn’t. My first reviews were for the eyes of my family and a few close friends; I’ve since become happy to let my articles stand alone, without the need for self-promotion. I update my LastFM journal with a copy of each review as they’re published, which allows fellow event attendees to read my words if they’re so inclined.

    But by and large – though I still share published work with my family – I write for myself. Freelancing, as it were, though obviously still subject to the discretion of my editors. I know that my articles get glanced at in print by bored commuters, but the web audience is entirely different: they’re there because they’re interested enough to click.

    It’s essentially a thankless job, which I am completely comfortable with. I know the nature of the game that I volunteered for. Not just anyone could do this, as most people don’t care enough to put pen to paper.

    I really enjoy thinking about the historical impact that I’m having, though mostly on a personal level: words written at a particular time and place, when linked with my personal writing, will provide a rich tapestry of experiences upon which I’ll reflect fondly in my later years. The same principle applies for the artists I’m writing about. I like that my words capture a snapshot of an artist at a point in their career.

    Maybe my sense of realism is unique among music journalists, I don’t know. I’m constantly mindful of the responsibility attached to my words, which are attached to my name.

    But to return to my core purpose, free entertainment: all of my work up until this point has been to make a name, carve a niche for myself among my editors, so that I’m more likely to be chosen to write about the artists I want to see.

    I suppose that I’m a faker, somewhat, because I wouldn’t write about bands if I wasn’t required to. I didn’t review the handful of shows that I paid to attend this year. I certainly enter a show in a different mindset if I’m reviewing, notepad in back pocket. Fewer beers are often consumed. Which is not to say that I enjoy myself less if I’m reviewing, fuck no; it’s just that I’m more mindful of my peers, my surrounds, and the context of the performance.

    All of these ruminations spring from the fact that my music writing is a hobby, a personal passion. The thought of pursuing this as a career has not seriously crossed my mind in years, and funnily enough, not at all during the sixteen-odd months I’ve been a paid music critic.

    While following the discussion between Everett, Andrew and the vocal audience, I reflected on whether I was being critical enough in my writing. Whether I was producing memorable words; or offending enough people, if I were to subscribe to Everett’s shit-stirring journalistic methodology. His goal was, and is, to be memorable, perhaps because the inverse possibility would be financially unsustainable.

    I think that there’s an inherent sadness in being known first and foremost as a music critic. I mean, fuck, you sit around listening to bands by day and stand around at night watching bands, actively analysing their sound and craft for perceived weaknesses. Stewing on appropriately clever ways to judge their artistic output in a snarky or humourous manner. I know, because I’ve been there. What kind of profession is that?

    I disliked how Everett spoke of the lack of critical discourse within music writing; that is, that there’s not enough writers out there sticking the boot into subjectively crap performers, as if it’s some kind of Herculean effort worthy of merit to chastise sub-par musicians. Because I get this picture of a middle-aged, wizened journo spewing forth bile onto his keyboard in the middle of night, this bitter, repulsive person, and I think – fuck that. My imagination may get a little carried away at times, but that image scares me a lot.

    Of course, I’ve been concentrating on the negative side of music criticism, as that’s my first connotation. Its antonym is praise, which is what I tend to dole out in my music writing, as I tend to only see artists who I like. And that’s to my advantage, as like I said, music writing – while an undeniably strong passion of mine – is still a hobby. I can’t help but admire those who dedicate their career to writing about music, as they have more energy than I. 

    I’m simply content to keep carving my niche, honing my craft, within the small pool of Brisbane music journalists. Memorable? Maybe. Honest? True.

  • Music Journalism: Opportunistic Idiot-Baiting

    Funnily enough, days after my last post regarding my interest and participation in the grey area of writing about music, Everett True set his proverbial cat among the pigeons by describing some popular Australian acts as “musical abominations” and suggesting that this country’s music publications are too kind when discussing musicians, both established and upcoming.

    While acknowledging that True’s article was little more than a thinly-veiled bit of self-congratulatory promotion – he runs a UK monthly music publication named Plan B Magazine, if you didn’t gather – the uproarious response to his words made for some thoroughly entertaining reading.

    Cue, en masse:

    How dare this prententious prick of a Pom have the gall to write off a couple of our most popular musical exports? These bands are popular. A lot of people like them. This means that they write good music!

    As above, except with more spelling errors and angst, and less rational thought. Here’s a few examples from a discussion that appeared on news.com.au:

    Who cares what this wanker says.. If you like the music you like, if you don’t you don’t it is not up to anyone else to tell us what is good and bad!!!
    Posted by: Lisa 3:04am August 12, 2008

    Well, this comment makes a bit of sense. But Lisa probably listens to The Presets, so her opinion is invalid.

    I would suggest that the majority of reviews concerned with the arts boil down to little more than “I don’t like it”. How else can one account for critics’ wildly divergent opinions? Ah well, if you lack creativity, you’ve still got to earn a living somehow … right?
    Posted by: Andrew 3:15am August 12, 2008

    I like the way Andrew thinks. He’s right, to an extent: the concept of professional criticism is hilarious in itself. He has a cool name, too.

    Powderfinger are a great example of an extremely talented Aussie band, who deserve as much if not more recognition here and internationally as the likes of Silverchair and co…
    Posted by: James of Sydney 8:15am August 12, 2008

    Lulz.

    It’s True, Lol. The guy is right, particularly about the street press. The street press in trash, with no critical faculties and poor writing. Just cos it’s free doesn’t mean the writing should be lazy. “I went to the gig by XXX the crowd went off, the band sounded good. oh but I missed the support band cos i was out getting pizza” give me a break.
    Posted by: Unaustralian of Australia 9:06am August 12, 2008

    What a fantastically well-informed and intelligent opinion. Not generalising at all, no sir!

    The discussion henceforth devolved into further idiocy. You could check it out for yourself, but I’d recommend against doing something more productive for five minutes instead. Like banging your head against the wall.

    Conversely, True’s initial article yielded some intelligent and coherent responses. Monkeywenchdotnet wrote:

    I don’t think positive music writing is lazy or passionless. True is attacking the Brisbane street press in particular, and as a sometime writer for one of the mags which comprises the Brisbane street press I can say with 100% authority that we do it for the love, which is a good thing because the money is crap. Oddly enough, if I’m doing something for the love I want to enjoy it, not spend all my energy complaining about aspects I dislike.

    I’m not going to waste my time listening to, talking to, and writing about a band I don’t feel warm about. I don’t feel the need to prove my worth by swinging my pen around and declaring myself the arbiter of good taste by tearing down artists that I’m not interested in.

    I wholly echo the above sentiments.

    Do I only nominate to review bands that I find enjoyable or interesting? Absolutely. Only once have I accepted an assignment to review bands that I was less than interested in; that show resulted in an unexpectedly enjoyable experience.

    The overarching theme that many seem to forget is that all discussion of music is subjective. Preference and taste vary between listeners. This isn’t going to change. Bleating to everyone within earshot that Band X or Band Y are great or shit or relevant or geniuses or ugly or brilliant or immature or talentless or irrelevant or (adjective) isn’t going to change an individual’s preference.

    Sure, it’s fun to mock those who listen to The Presets, but I’m being facetious when I do so and don’t devote more than a moment’s thought to the listening choices of those around me. My listening habits have been on display since October 3, 2004. My experimentations, lamentations and guilty pleasures are all there (*cringe*). Do I listen to music that you think is shit? Most definitely. Does this concern me? Certainly not.

    I don’t have time for that. It’s hilarious that others do. It’s also interesting to note that musical discussions tend to evoke strong, passionate feelings within many of us.

    Within music journalism, there exists a consistent and inelastically large market in idiot-baiting. Thanks for reminding us, Everett.

    (footnote – I’ve listened to The Presets quite a bit. I liked their early releases a lot, but their latest is a stinking pile of shit that I never want to hear again.)