A Conversation With Craig Mathieson, Australian music journalist

I wrote recently that Craig Mathieson wears the crown of Australian rock journalism. Allow me to elaborate. He’s recently released Playlisted: Everything You Need To Know About Australian Music Right Now, his third music-related book, and his byline has regularly appeared in Rolling Stone, Juice, Mess+Noise, and Fairfax news publications. He’s even got a Wikipedia entry.

Craig, at this point in your career, which writers do you view as your contemporaries?

My contemporaries are simply the good writers, those who have a voice and critical faculties. In terms of age that group is all over the place. Most are younger ; I named Shaun Prescott, Tim Finney and Emmy Hennings as talented examples on my blog. A few are older - I’m 38 years old. And I’m still flummoxed that someone decided to knock up a Wikipedia entry for me.

You stand as an example that it’s possible to earn a decent living as a full-time freelance music journalist in this country. Am I right, or do you have another job on the side to supplement your writing?

I’ve freelanced full-time for twenty years, but it’s been divided between music and film. In the music scene I’m a veteran, in film I’m still something of a kid. My career to date comes in two parts: 1989 to 1999, which was very music-orientated, mainly in Sydney; burn out and a corporate sojourn at Sony Music during 2000 and the first half of 2001; back to Melbourne and dividing my time between film and music ever since.

The way film and music writers/critics are considered is chalk and cheese. Everyone has a film critic, but the idea of a music critic – as opposed to the music writer who might pen the odd review – being on staff is anathema. I was the film critic for The Bulletin, the ACP-owned news weekly, from 2002 until it closed in January of 2008, and that was an absolute pleasure.

Having two disciplines to write about has also made me a stronger critic – it gets you thinking about the work you’re appraising in different ways.

Do you think it’s still possible for freelance writers to earn a decent living in 2009?

I’m sure it would still be possible today for freelance writers to swim upstream as it were, but there’s the question of what they’re striving for? There are very few secure full-time jobs at the end of the rainbow and not everyone is comfortable doing the freelance shuffle, because there’s not a safety net present.

Though you mostly focus on how the musicians profiled in Playlisted sound and appear, I noticed the occasional comment about demographics and marketability. Is the marketing/promotion side of the industry of particular interest to you?

It does interest me, because it impacts on how music is perceived and sometimes, to the artist’s detriment, it can be the defining element of someone’s career, as opposed to the actual music they produce.

Before playlisted.com.au, a blog created when Playlisted was released, you’d not blogged elsewhere. Why?

I didn’t have the time or the inclination. I knock out a fair few words every week and I’m focused on maintaining a decent standard of living for my family – marriage/mortgage/offspring tends to refocus a lot of younger freelancers and move them onwards; I have a stubborn streak. Even now, doing the blog for Playlisted, I’m sporadic at best.

Aside from Mess+Noise, you seem to write exclusively for print. Aside from the fact that its publications pay better, what do you enjoy about writing for print?

As a freelancer, you can’t underestimate how important “pay better” is, but aside from that I’m attracted to the audience size, which is pretty sizable when you file for The Age or the Sydney Morning Herald. I’m also a traditionalist, in that almost every day of my life since the age of 12 I’ve read one of those two Fairfax titles, so to be a part of them now is very satisfying.

Which are you favourite music blogs, both Australian and otherwise?

Mainly the online voices of writers whose work I already enjoy, be it Simon Reynolds or Anwyn Crawford. I don’t have much time for the blogs that are focused on being first – first review, first streaming – with something. “First-ism” grows dull quickly.

You wrote most of Playlisted in the summer of 2008. How much editing and revision was required between then and its November publication?

There was a sturdy editing process, then proofing, for a solid period between April and June. I’m not the cleanest writer and I’ve never been much of a sub myself, so I’m sure it needed work (“needs more,” I’m sure someone will snort). But after that it entered a kind of publishing limbo until November, when finished copies appeared and the whole release/promotion rigmarole kicked off.

When writing, are you much of a procrastinator?

It can take me a while to start, but once I do I tend to find a groove very easily and I work quickly, until finishing, after that. It’s rare that I junk a draft – most pieces come together reasonably smoothly.

As for procrastinating at the start, unless I’m under extreme deadline pressure then I actually try to take the time to enjoy it. Sometimes it’s worth letting your mind wander a little, you might have a far better lede than that intricate one you’ve been obsessively plotting just come to you.

Finally, what’s thrilling your ears lately?

I’ve been compiling end of year lists for various publications, so this week’s scope has been a little wider than an ordinary week, but in terms of recent releases I’m enjoying Fuck Buttons, Whitley, Denim Owl and Rihanna.

I genuinely like pop music and I write about commercial releases quite frequently – to me that’s part of a critic’s job, to try and take everything in and see what may or may connect the mainstream and the alternative scenes. I get frustrated that some younger critics are almost specialists, they can become completely niche-orientated. I’d love to read them taking on something completely outside the aesthetic they’re drawn to.

Thanks Craig. I highly recommend Playlisted; buy a copy here. Keep an eye on Craig’s blog here.

Filed under Conversations | Tags: anwyn-crawford, australia, craig-mathieson, emmy-hennings, fairfax, freelancing, Interview, Juice, magazine, mess-and-noise, Music, music-journalism, playlisted, procrastination, rolling stone, shaun-prescott, simon-reynolds, tim-finney, Writing | Comments (3)

Drowned In Sound: RIP Music Journalism?

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!

Filed under Music, Writing | Tags: andrew-ramadge, criticism, drowned-in-sound, Everett True, FasterLouder, finance, freelance-writing, guest-post, melody-maker, mess-and-noise, Music, music-criticism, music-journalism, nme, plan-b, Rave Magazine, tastemaker, the-guardian, Writing | Comments (4)

Andrew Humbled By Hungry Kids Of Hungary

I received my first rewrite request last week.

I’ve been writing for Rave Magazine, a Brisbane street press, since June 2007. I wrote for FasterLouder, an Australian music site, from the same time until February 2009. I started with Mess+Noise in April 2009.

The rewrite request was from the Mess+Noise Editor, Darren Levin, who wasn’t happy with the copy I’d submitted for a review of Brisbane band Hungry Kids Of Hungary’s EP, Mega Mountain.

My original submission:

Hungry Kids Of Hungary - Mega Mountain

4 track, EP (2009, Independent)

The Beach Boys. The Beatles. Now that we’ve got those two very obvious influences on Hungry Kids Of Hungary’s sound out of the way, let’s discuss their music. The Brisbane locals exhibit indie pop that’s just as bright and colourful as their cover artwork. The four members make no apologies for their pursuits of strong vocal melodies in the style of past greats, and nor should they: this is an engaging second release from a promising act.

Disc opener Two Stones is a well-paced, keyboard-led track that features vocal input from all members. These combined vocal harmonies - used repeatedly, yet sparingly throughout these four songs - are one of the act’s strongest assets. Two Stones dissolves into a vocal melody that’s mirrored by a guitar, until the band’s post-song applause and hoots are punctuated by the sound of drumsticks counting in the next track. Goddamn, I love it when bands do that. It’s an effective tool to create a sense of coherence, and Hungry Kids do it well.

Second track and lead single Scattered Diamonds is a disarmingly brilliant pop song. Its bass, floor-tom and clean guitar introduction set the tone for an exceptionally catchy romp through the band’s narrated weekend. Enchanting harmonies and a xylophone appear a minute into the track, by which time you’re already nodding your head and humming the melody. That they can pull off a bass-led, bottle-clinking interlude and maintain the listener’s interest argues a strong case for their adept songwriting skills. “You want it? You got it all,” the band repeatedly suggest. It’s this sense of humility and lack of pretension that endears the listener to their cause.

The disc’s latter half is subdued: Old Money is another keyboard-heavy tune that positively drags when compared to the wholly engaging pop of the previous two tunes. The Kids close with Good Times, which picks up speed across four minutes before climaxing amid cymbals and ‘whoa-oh-oh’s. All that’s left wanting with this release is an increased coherence between these two tracks and the opening duo, whose sheer likability trumps any doubts regarding the quartet’s pop proficiency.

Darren replied:

Hey Andrew,
I think you might need to have another crack at this one mate. It’s a bit too streetpress/FasterLouder for our readership. 
First, the review’s far too basic; a song by song description of the album with no flair or critical edge. Have a look at some of the reviews on our site to see what we’re after.
If you need any pointers, let me know. 
Cheers,

d.

I was taken aback. What? Something that I submitted isn’t good enough for publication?

This is what two years of writing for street press and FasterLouder had done to my ego. Due to the comparably lower standards of those publications - the week churn and demand of street press, and FasterLouder’s seemingly laissez-faire attitude to content - I’d come to believe that everything I submitted was fit for publication, just because I had taken the time to sit down and write it.

Or more importantly, during those two years, I’d received little other than either silence or praise. I took the former to mean the latter. 

I’m not proud to admit that I reacted irrationally to Darren’s rewrite request. While I do my best to remain calm and in control at all times, I probably swore and frowned at the screen. I didn’t reply to him for several days, even while knowing that as a freelance writer, silence toward an editor will rarely achieve a desired outcome.

My desired outcome was to continue believing that everything I write is golden, and that my editor was wrong, rather than to start afresh and rewrite a review of a disc that I liked, but probably wouldn’t listen to very often.

Ridiculous.

After a couple hours stewing on my rejection - sob - I emailed Andrew Ramadge, a fellow Mess+Noise (and Sydney Morning Herald, and The Brag) writer whose work I greatly admire.

Hullo Mr Ramadge,

I’ve run into a mite of trouble with an EP review I submitted last week.

Now, I am a bit lost here. Sure, my review was mostly positive, but that’s because I really liked it. Especially the first two tracks. In terms of artistic vision, Hungry Kids are remarkably accomplished for a band so young.

So is my rewrite a matter of introducing the (few) negative aspects first, before admitting that it is really quite good? This seems like a rather backwards, dishonest way to write. Counter-intuitive.

Your help appreciated,

Andrew

He responded with:

Hi Andrew,

It’s not a bad review. As Darren says, the problem is more the style. That’s a review I would expect to read in street press, not really Mess+Noise.

In a nutshell, it’s because it reads like it was written by a musician.

These are the musician words, in order: “keyboard, vocal harmonies, vocal melody, guitar, applause, drumsticks, bass, floor-tom, clean guitar, harmonies, xylophone, bass-led, keyboard-heavy, cymbals”.

Some of those are necessary, of course — I’m not suggesting you never say “keyboard” in a review!! — but in general it sounds like you are describing the songs by relying too heavily on just describing the instruments used.

So, as a reader, I get a hint of what it sounds like, but the question you don’t answer is: what does it feel like?

Why does it sound like The Beach Boys? Is it because it has themes of young love or sunshine or US nostalgia? Or is it simply the instruments and melodies used? If it is just the latter, and not the themes / feelings, then what other themes of their own are Hungry Kids Of Hungary exploring? Same question for The Beatles.

If you find yourself stuck writing about that — and you might be, not every album makes you picture something or feel something — then perhaps tell us a bit more about who Hungry Kids are or how they formed or how they fit into the Brisbane musical landscape instead. Give us a bit of context.

Also there are a few cliche no-nos in there: “well-paced”, “promising act”, “disarmingly brilliant”, “exceptionally catchy”, “enchanting harmonies”.

You’ll notice most of those have the same two-word format. I’m sure there’s some technical term for it but I don’t know it. :P

As an exercise, try doing one of two things when you catch yourself using those double-ups. Either use one word only — “brilliant” instead of “disarmingly brilliant” — and use them sparingly, so that the one word means quite a lot. Sort of a minimalist approach.

The other option is just to expand on the idea. If the harmonies are “enchanting”, and it’s worth saying so, then tell me exactly why. What is it about them that is enchanting? What sort of desire does it provoke in you?

Hope that helps.

If you’re a little bruised, it will pass — from experience, I can say that there is nothing better than an editor that pushes you to do better, even though it’s a pain in the arse at the time.

Cheers,

Andy

That’s some awesome advice. My ego = humbled.

Andrew made me realise that I still write like a flaming imbecile fairly regularly. The regularlity’s decreasing, I think. And as much as be called out for writing like an idiot hurts at the time, it’s definitely for the better.

Days later, I listened to the disc with fresh ears - and, perhaps most importantly, without distraction - and realised that I’d barely registered the lyrics while writing my review. So I focussed on that aspect, because there’s little else to fault musically. 

Here’s what I came up with.

Hungry Kids Of Hungary - Mega Mountain

4 track, EP (2009, Independent)

Is it too much to ask for meaningful lyrics in pop music? Perhaps it’s folly to compare the lyrical output of Brisbane’s Hungry Kids Of Hungary to the oversexed, plastic tripe that features throughout the ARIA charts. But how many years of writing and performance did it take for pop visionaries The Beatles to overcome their fixation on girls, love and days of the week, or The Beach Boys to write songs about something more than surfing? Although musically proficient, the lyrics of the four songs on this EP dissolve under a critical microscope.

Non-sequiturs and a dead-end narrative haunt ‘Old Money’ which, “Goes a long way/But not long enough to shake that frown.” I can’t tell if they’re singing about worldwide decline in newspaper sales, but it seems plausible: “Still the readers of these publications buy/But now Daddy’s overseeing/So maybe this time.” As awkward as these words appear out of context, their enthusiastic in-song delivery matches Hungry Kids’ uncomplicated keyboard-driven pop perfectly.

This is an easily enjoyable release from the Brisbane quartet, who first came to attention with their self-titled 2008 EP. Producer Matt Redlich captures an undoubtedly relaxed studio environment: the band cheer between takes, clink bottles mid-song (see the bass interlude of single ‘Scattered Diamonds’) and lean into the microphone for those sweet Beach Boys harmonies. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that the majority of the band’s attention was spent on composition and harmony, instead of the words between.

Darren’s feedback:

mate, it’s much better! it actually tells the reader something; it’s not just a track by track summation, but an analysis of why the album is good/isn’t good.
almost like a different person wrote it — i like this andrew more ;)

d.

This exchange and rewrite exercise taught me more about music writing than nearly two years writing elsewhere. And I’m not suggesting that my other editors’ lack of critical feedback is a failure on their part.

But consider the force with which Darren’s request hit me. The couple of lines that he typed were the biggest reality check I’ve had as a writer so far. And I can’t thank him enough for that.

Filed under Music, Writing | Tags: andrew-ramadge, cliche, criticism, darren-levin, editor, FasterLouder, feedback, hungry-kids-of-hungary, Journalism, mess-and-noise, Music, music-criticism, music-journalism, Rave Magazine, Review, rewrite, the-beach-boys, the-beatles, Writing, writing-advice | Comments (14)

A Conversation With Christie Eliezer, music journalist

Christie 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!

You 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.

So 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?

It 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?

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?

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.

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