A little bit of history about myself:
My first introduction into the world of music journalism came about when I attended a high school journalism convention in New York City. I attended a lecture by a speaker (his name, sadly, has been lost to history) who informed his audience in no uncertain terms that being a music critic kicked ass because you got free shit alllllllllllllll the time.He had my attention immediately.
In order to score free copies of albums to review for your publication, he said, just send a copy of your school's newspaper to the record label of your choice, along with a heartfelt letter, detailing how you're interested in starting a regular music review feature and how you'd like to be added to their publicity list for review copies of new albums. If they bought into it, you'd start getting free records on a regular basis.
This sounded too good to be true...and, yet, it sounded too cool to pass up.
I promptly wrote a letter to I.R.S. Records; they, in turn, sent me copies of the soundtrack to the film "Athens, GA: Inside/Out," which featured R.E.M., Dreams So Real, Pylon, Love Tractor, and many other stalwarts of that Southern city's music scene, as well as the debut album from Concrete Blonde. To put this in perspective, not only was Concrete Blonde several years away from scoring their one mainstream hit with "Joey," R.E.M. was still at least a year or so away from scoring their breakthrough hit with "The One I Love."
So these were, without a doubt, cool indie records. And by "records," I do indeed mean actual vinyl.
I reviewed the Athens, GA: Inside/Out soundtrack for the Great Bridge High School newspaper, a publication cleverly named The Bridge. That review still haunts me to this day. It was, without a doubt, a complete piece of crap, written in a fashion that made it clear that I just wanted to sound like I knew what I was talking about.
The problem...? I didn't.
Case and point: I referred to how R.E.M.'s version of "Swan Swan H" on the soundtrack was far more impressive in its acoustic setting, without the intrusive orchestral instrumentation. The inherent problem with this observation, aside from the fact that I didn't actually own Lifes Rich Pageant and had only heard it once before EVER, was the fact that the song was acoustic on the album as well...which means that, somewhere in my puberty- stricken brain, I'd completely INVENTED the fact that I'd heard orchestral instrumentation on the song. In retrospect, I suppose what really hurt worse was that no-one ever called me on it...which means that either no-one knew the original version of the song (very possible, since R.E.M. didn't really break through to the mainstream until Document), or that no-one who DID know the original song actually read the review. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, because the moral to this story is that I got free stuff just for writing any old piece of crap, and I never once looked back...though, to be fair, ever since, I've tried really hard not to talk complete shit when writing a review.
There was a significant gap between that first and last record review of mine for The Bridge and the next time anything I'd written would see print. In fact, it would be almost three years. In that time, I still fancied myself as a critic, and I knew that someday I'd be a music journalist. I had a few heroes in the field. Inevitably, Kurt Loder was one of them. I mean, the guy was on MTV. I later found out that he'd written for Rolling Stone, even serving as an editor for the magazine.
From print to television...? SOLD!
I began reading Rolling Stone regularly, along with the then-new Spin Magazine and the then-struggling Creem Magazine. I got a job at a record store. I started scribbling down music review columns in my notebooks when I was attending the local community college...though most of the columns never managed to be completed, and they certainly never saw print anywhere. Still, my desire to be a "rock journalist" (I don't know why that phrase impressed me more than the phrase "music journalist," but it did...and still does) kicked into overdrive when I first read about and then subsequently purchased Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, a collection of writings by the late Lester Bangs.
My God, the guy wrote in first person! I could write in first person!! I could BE Lester Bangs!!!
Unfortunately, little did I know that there were thousands upon thousands of other naive pinheads out there who were reading the same book, thinking approximately the same thing, and ALSO trying to follow in Lester's footsteps.
I finally saw print again when I went away to college. After floundering for a few years at Tidewater Community College, which, despite providing a reasonable education with quite capable teachers, was a far cry from the actual "college experience," I transferred to Averett College, in Danville, Virginia. I began writing for the school newspaper, The Chanticleer, and later became the entertainment editor, during which time I wrote a regular column entitled...and please forgive me for my past transgressions...Hip, Now, and Happenin'. If you're curious about just how bad it was, feel free to check out a column here. Call it a Christmas present from me to you. I've added footnotes to give more of a current perspective to some of the idiocy I wrote at the time...
During the summer between my junior and senior years at Averett, I did my college internship with a Virginia Beach-based entertainment rag called RockFlash. It was the start of my music journalism career, and I will never be anything less than grateful for that specific fact...but, beyond that, the owner, Jeff Lefcoe, stiffed me out of a bunch of money, and I'm still a little pissed about that. But I digress.
After RockFlash (which was later known simply as Flash Magazine), I moved on to NineVolt Magazine, which is still a functioning entity. I also contributed to Popsided, which is now defunct...but it led me to Amplifier Magazine, for whom I'm still a regular contributor. I also contribute to PopMatters, a fabulous website that I cannot recommend enough.
I haven't been doing nearly as much writing lately as I'd like...but I'm hoping that this site will get back on track, if only because it's an ego boost to know that my stuff is out on the 'net for other folks to read. I mean, hell, I'm not getting paid for the stuff I write for Amplifier and PopMatters, anyway; if I'm not getting paid for it, why not write some stuff for myself for free, too?
An ongoing journal of what I'm listening to each time I'm updating the site...
What's kept me occupied while suffering through my non-journalism-related job
Check out my latest reviews here!
or, God Help You, Read Some of my Older Reviews Here:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
INTERVIEWS AND ARTICLES
Glenn Tilbrook of Squeeze (circa Domino) The Fixx
Marty Willson Piper of the Church Fishbone
Pat Dinizio, take 2 Jim Babjak and Mike Mesaros of the Smithereens
Butch Walker of the Marvelous 3 Colin Hay
A Girl Called Eddy The Trash Can Sinatras
Echo and the Bunnymen (Ian McCulloch) Edwin McCain
The Curse of Godzookie...or...If I Should Fall From Grace With Godzilla
Raleigh Photo Pass (Revisiting A Close Encounter With Morrissey)
For your amusement, click here to see my wife with the other man of her dreams.
(I can't be mad about it; he was in her life long before I came into the picture.)
On a related note, the Virginian Pilot ran a piece about Rick Springfield's concert at the nTelos Pavilion in Portsmouth, VA, on July 10, 2003. The show was, insofar as we were concerned, a triumph. The writer of this piece, however, felt decidedly otherwise, which was her right, of course...but her position on precisely why it was so disappointing was so muddled that I felt obliged to respond. Here's her piece, followed immediately thereafter by my response.
