Rockwrite.
I just finished reading
Mitch Myers'
The Boy Who Cried Freebird late last night, and while I thought the book as a whole was merely O.K.
*, there was one really great quote held within an essay Meyers wrote about
Richard Meltzer. The quote comes from
Dave Marsh -- whom I've always thought was kind of a tool, but here he really nails it -- when he's asked about his own thoughts on what it's like to be a music critic. Marsh says:
People think being a rock critic is easy, well, maybe for two years. After that, you're on your mettle.
Lots of folks gripe about the rise of the critical backwash provided by too many voices vying for attention in today's online landscape. Hell, I've even complained about it in the past, and wondered what effect all these "critics" would ultimately have on the discipline of rock criticism. But Marsh gets it right ... most of these folks won't last. They can't last. I've been writing about rock and/or roll since about 1989, and it ain't always easy. After the initial rush of realizing
someone is reading your opinion, for most folks there comes a point where they wonder what more they really have to say on the subject. And then there comes the realization that while
someone is reading what you have to say, there's always the question if what you say actually matters to that someone.
It's at this point, and oddly it does seem to be 2-3 years in, you either realize you were meant to be writing about rock and/or roll, or whether your writing was just a component of a finite obsession with something that deeply touches a segment of your life.
In my case the answer is pretty obvious, I couldn't change the way I am if I tried. In some ways I wonder if that means I have some strange gift, or if I've been beset by an unshakable curse. Either way, I hope that by now I've at least partially proven my mettle.
* I plan on reviewing the book for
Chicagoist, so that's why I don't get more deeply into its charms and misfires right now.
Keep, Fagballs, and I will be spinning at The Burlington tomorrow night.
I'll give you a head start though: The Democrat's should adopt a winner-take-all strategy for their primary system in the future, because if that was the case, Hillary would have secured the nom months ago. Now we're stuck with a presumptive candidate who keeps falling in the polls. And worse? I was at a BBQ last weekend that was populated by a rather liberal crowd, and my sneaky informal polling revealed that most of them have already made pease with the idea of a McCain presidency.
Seriously, I should not be allowed to use my phone after midnight. In ye olden days late night phone shenanigans were severely limited by the fact that you, well, actually had to call the other person and you might wake them up. But now you can just text away to your little heart's delight ... sometimes accumulating a book's worth of embarrassing messages before the other person even knows you're trying to get their attention.
I just finished reading Mitch Myers' The Boy Who Cried Freebird late last night, and while I thought the book as a whole was merely O.K.*, there was one really great quote held within an essay Meyers wrote about Richard Meltzer. The quote comes from Dave Marsh -- whom I've always thought was kind of a tool, but here he really nails it -- when he's asked about his own thoughts on what it's like to be a music critic. Marsh says:
Steinski is releasing a "career retrospective" compilation today. I heard it last week and say if you're into his mixes and creations, it's worth picking up, especially since he hasn't exactly stayed put and it ranges across a couple labels.
It bears repeating that this year is just stupendously, ridonkulously, incredibly terrific as far as new music is involved. Just this week I've gotten stellar discs from Sloan, The Dandy Warhols, Air Traffic, and The Futureheads!
CONCLUSION: While Betty certainly does bark, I am no longer buying the story that she barks all day long when I DO leave her at home. I DO believe that she used to, but I think she's gotten past that point, at least during daylight hours. At night I can't make the mistake of not sedating her. I didn't back at the beginning of the month and greeted my brand new neighbors with the sounds of her barking madly all through the night ... thus setting her up to be the future scapegoat for any other barking. Totally my bad.
How weird, especially since I was just writing about the Red Hot Chili Peppers out of the blue just last week, but NME is reporting that the band has broken up! 
Tonight I'm back in the booth for Bomb Squad Thursday at Liar's Club, and this week I'm joined by the Hos Before Bros DJs. To be honest, I'm not even sure how many of the Hos Before Bros ladies I'm facing tonight. I know Lizz (Chicagoist / No Dessert For You / UR Chicago) and Marah (Touch & Go) will be there for sure, but there may be another couple DJs joining them.
