A couple of weeks ago, I was forwarded a link to Everett True’s blog in which he featured a presentation by rock writer Chris Weingarten, which you can see here. True posted his own thoughts on his blog, which were later posted on Crikey. I found his comments a bit of a mess, and not necessarily enlightening for anyone who isn’t exactly sure what Weingarten’s presentation was really about. True’s piece seemed directed at people already knowledgeable about the issues Weingarten raises, but wouldn’t really help anyone who wasn’t. So I’ve tried to tease out the main points.
Of course, it’s difficult to get past the tone-setting opener, in which he claims that the Internet has “officially sucked all the fun out of it (music writing).” Why the broader public should be particularly concerned as to whether or not writing about rock music should be fun isn’t really addressed, it’s just taken as a given that this is a very bad thing. Which may seem like a throwaway point, but it does seem to get to the core of Weingarten’s perspective. Several points he raises makes it fairly clear that he’s wedded to a particular culture of rock journalism, and he hasn’t necessarily examined why the status quo he’s defending was so much better for music fans themselves. But I’ll get to that later.
Weingarten’s initial target that he uses to frame his argument is a website called The Hype Machine, which is essentially an aggregator of content pulled from independent music blogs, to provide a rundown of the most talked-about music on the internet. You can read their mission statement here. The part that gets Weingarten’s goat is what’s written under the heading “why?”.
We are creating tools that empower independent voices that write about music. We think a select group of passionate people can produce more engaging conversation than a huge social mob, or a rigid hierarchy of editors. We amplify their posts and the audio they choose, to help this vibrant culture spread.
Weingarten responds to this veiled criticism of the kind of publications that he writes for, such as Rolling Stone, by suggesting that simply by collecting the most popular music from a whole lot of blogs and putting them together in a list is actually “the very definition of lowest common denominator.” He then goes on to say that “at least when we had a rigid hierarchy of editors, some of their favourite random shit would find its way into magazines.” I think that he has a good point here, in that the way The Hype Machine presents music makes it less likely that less popular music will find its way to listeners, as opposed to a magazine in which slightly oddball music has a chance of getting reviewed and presented in a prime location. And, if you look at the wider context of journalism in general, it’s fairly obvious that you get provided better quality material by organisations that exert strong editorial control over their content, versus those that mere recycle other content and rank it according to popularity. As it turns out, many other comments that Weingarten makes do relate to the problems that news organisations have been struggling with for several years now.
For instance, Weingarten objects heavily to the phenomenon of “firsties” – a term that describes the sort of comments that seem to exist purely in order to be the first at something, rather than to say anything useful. The problem, as he sees it, is that music writers are in such a rush to be the first to cover something that then becomes a popular topic that they increasingly end up covering every unimportant detail of every event that they attend – such as music festivals – in the hope that one of the things they write about becomes a meme. They care more about being the first to discover new bands than providing any sort of criticism, and that “insight and artistry are no longer the end goal; they’re afterthoughts.” This is obviously the result of an addiction to getting traffic on a website, and news sites are particularly guilty of this rush to create link bait. As Weingarten puts it: “when clicks are your lifeblood it doesn’t matter if the writing is any good.”
He then goes on to talk about the lack of negative reviews on music blogs, mentioning that “Pitchfork just bailed on negative song reviews… which I guess would be news if blogs hadn’t bailed on negative song reviews years ago.” The problem, as he sees it, is that “no one posts negative commentary anymore, because no one googles for bands they don’t like.” This is no doubt true, and it’s a slightly worrying phenomenon, if you think that criticism is an important part of any art-form. Of course, a ranking of the most popular music on blogs serves to filter out the music that people think isn’t any good, but negative criticism generally serves a higher purpose than simply telling people what not to listen to: it’s a means of engaging with ideas about higher values in art. Some of the time. Weingarten says that the lack of negative criticism means that “no one is left to say the new Broken Social Scene song sucks,” which he then goes on to say himself, thus either ruining his argument or suggesting that he’s the sole voice of reason within the music writing community – something that he comes across as believing for much of this talk.
Finally, he turns to the artists themselves, and tells us why this atmosphere is bad for bands as well. Due to the high speed nature of music blogs, “bands have to fight for blog attention all the time,” so that “bands have to offer websites a constant stream of art with their names on it just to stay alive.” In trying to constantly create something new that will go viral, bands don’t have the time to spend honing their real craft, which is (or should be) making music. I think this is a legitimate concern, and one that has been felt in many circles. Part of the problem is no doubt that it’s hard to see how anyone is making a living from playing music, so there are very few successful examples to follow. At the moment, the general consensus is that you have to come up with some crazy new idea of getting your music to audiences (a firstie problem of its own), rather than simply playing gigs and promoting them, then publicising an album when it’s released.
So, despite his general attitude that can be fairly grating, his perspective seems correct. But he glosses over a number of things, largely as it relates to the nature of the industry before all of these issues came up.
During his talk, Weingarten brings up the idea of a “stumble culture”, in which music fans discover new and interesting music through happenstance. This is something that he feels is being destroyed by factors like The Hype Machine, as what we are stumbling into is that which others have decided we should discover. There’s no chance of discovering something outside our usual comfort zone. But he suggests that things were different back in the day, when “we used to just stumble upon bands on the radio or MTV or whatever.” Umm, MTV? How is MTV a proponent of stumble culture, as opposed to a blog written by someone who has no commercial ties to the music industry? Is he seriously suggesting that watching MTV was a better way to discover music that strayed off the beaten track?
Secondly, in his criticism of “firsties”, he suggests an example where he might be at a gig and “something interesting happens, like Jay-Z brings a guest out”, whereupon he could talk to his editor and write an amazing piece about it, but it wouldn’t matter because the most traffic is going to go to “whoever got it up the fastest.” Now, I can’t help but feel that treating the coverage of who Jay-Z invites on stage (spoiler alert! It’ll be Beyoncé!) as being “something interesting”, let alone remotely worthy of an in-depth piece in a music publication, is not offering a convincing argument about firsties being the problem. That’s exactly the sort of news that should be tweeted immediately, and then promptly forgotten. If you’re bitter about firsties scooping you on that sort of bombshell, you don’t really deserve to be on a high horse about what’s killing good writing.
Likewise, when he claims that “good writing dies at the hands of search engine optimisation”, did he not think to apply this general idea to an earlier time? When you look over a rack of music magazines and all of them have photos of The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Curt Cobain or Led Zeppelin, is it not fair to think that good writing is suffering from needing to constantly rehash the same article about a dead 60s icon in order to generate sales? Why is it not surprising to see that Rolling Stone’s front page has an article entitled “‘Let It Be’ 40 Years Later: A Look Back at the Beatles' Final LP”, and another “100 Greatest Guitarists” list (you know who ranks number 1)? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good Beatles article, but it’s always the same one, and, more importantly, it’s not great writing and it isn’t remotely provocative.
Weingarten also suggests that blogs are hiding something about their place in the music industry. The lack of negative criticism isn’t simply due to their lack of traffic potential, but because it would damage their relationships with record labels, who they depend upon for exclusive music content. This is a reasonable point, and one that is likely unnoticed, not just by readers but by many of the blog writers themselves. How many bloggers are aware of their internal censors at work when they choose to not attack an organisation that provides them with the material they use to draw in readers? But to suggest that this is problem is unique to blogs is simply wrong. Every publication – that depends on advertising to cover costs – runs the risk of having that commercial relationship affect what they write. Likewise, if a magazine wants to interview a famous band – something that will generate lots of sales for them – it probably won’t help if they give the band’s newest album a panning. Every publication that benefits from having a good relationship with the artists it reviews is placed in this same difficult position, and I don’t understand why bloggers (who’s commercial interest is considerably smaller than that of a magazine) are likely to be any more guilty of pulling their punches than anyone else.
I tend to agree with a lot of Weingarten’s sentiments, as I think that most journalists have good cause to worry about what’s happening to their craft at the moment, and what’s going to be left of it in the next decade or so. It remains to be seen whether or not there is a large enough audience who are willing to pay for thought-provoking, intelligent journalism to keep it operating in a healthy way. But when it comes to music journalism, I think we still need to be shown that there’s something worth saving to begin with.
UPDATED 13/05/10: I added the penultimate paragraph, which I’d been meaning to include originally, but forgot about.
25 February 2010 —
SLAM
On Tuesday, like several thousand others, I attended the SLAM rally at Parliament House. I finished work too late to make it to the fun bit, but got to hear most of the speakers, and I'm glad I made it down.
As a musician in a couple of small independent bands, the closure of small-capacity venues would likely have an adverse affect of the number of gigs I could play in any given year. I haven't played many gigs in Melbourne recently however, so, unlike the closure of the Hopetoun in Sydney, I haven't lost any gigs because of the changes so far. On Tuesday we heard stories from those people who have already lost gigs, as well as stories from more famous musicians who have largely outgrown the sort of venues most likely to be affected, but still feel passionately about the importance of such places. However, while the fear of losing gigs was no doubt an important part of Tuesday’s rally, there were many other ideas people touched on.
People are fond of saying that laws that affect the cultural life of a community affect everyone in that community, and I'm not denying that. However, there are certainly many people in Melbourne who won't notice any changes to their lives due to these laws. Amongst the people who will likely be affected, there are two distinct groups: those who’ll be affected because of a loss of income or performance space; and those who’ll be affected by losing a place to attend as an audience member (though obviously many people do both).
It's easy to see that musicians and venue owners have a very strong interest in fighting these changes. Venue owners that are forced to pay for security guards at gigs attracting fewer than 50 people to the bar are going to find it hard to break even, and when you consider the financial burden on them - through the cost of P.A. equipment, sound techs, booking agents, etc. - it's hard to see why anyone would bother having bands play anywhere. Small venues are often run on very small profit margins, so the cost of two additional staff members each night is easily enough to tip them into running at an unsustainable loss. In this situation, venue owners have limited options: they can stop having live music, which would remove some of the security requirements; they can try to become a venue that books bigger-ticket bands that will draw bigger crowds and generate better income; they can close before 1 am; or they can close completely. In many cases, the last option is the only reasonable one. If you think of the Tote, the amount of money that it would take to convert the band room into a useable space to fill with enough drinkers to justify the rent would likely be prohibitive. Not to mention that a lot of the venue owners are more interested in running a music venue than a bar. It makes sense that people in their position should vigorously challenge the new laws, as their business' survival is at stake.
Musicians, too, will suffer if they lose places to play. Mid-to-large-sized venues are great if you can fill them, and are where bands need to play if they want to profit in any sense, but gigs at small venues are crucial, particularly for newer bands and local acts wanting to play more than once every few months. Bars like the Tote, the Birmingham and the Empress - among others - are famous for their month-long residencies, which many bands use to build sizeable audiences. The number of Melbourne bands you hear of getting popular after a building a fan base through a residency is surprisingly large, and it's a format that bigger venues simply can't offer. Also, if you're a new band, you simply won't be given a gig at a mid-sized venue, unless you're lucky enough to get put on as an opener for a more popular band. All of this mainly speaks to bands who play in the mainstream of rock and its relatives. If you're a jazz musician, smaller venues are even more important, because it's much less likely that you'll become popular enough to ever draw crowds large enough to warrant bigger clubs. On the other hand, most jazz clubs aren't likely to be affected by these laws, as they tend to not have liquor licenses that go past 1 am, (though saxophonist Andy Sugg pointed out at the rally, his residency at the Cape Live on Brunswick St. - which has gone on for several years now - has been cancelled, as the Cape Live doesn't operate as a music venue during the week anymore). Even musicians who are unlikely to be directly affected by the changes are still going to be against these changes, as they clearly feel like their community is being threatened. It probably isn't a stretch to say that most musicians in Melbourne would be opposed to the changes, and that the laws are not in their best interests.
Then, of course, are the people who have careers in the music industry that operates around performing artists. Venue bookers, concert promoters, sound technicians, band managers, and publicists all stand to lose income if fewer gigs get put on in Melbourne as a result of the laws. Again, no one in the music industry is helped by these laws, so it stands to reason that they're all going to be opposed.
The group that I'm particularly interested in are the fans and patrons of the affected bars. What do these people feel like they're losing because of these laws? For many people, the Tote was their local, and that's an important factor in many people's lives. Live music was a large part of why so many people chose to call the Tote their local, as opposed to other bars along the same road, though there were other factors as well, related to those ineffable qualities that create a good atmosphere. On top of that, many music fans prefer going to gigs at bars, as opposed to larger, specialised music venues. There are several reasons for this. Generally it's significantly cheaper to see a band at a bar, as the door charge is lower – or even non-existent – and the drinks are often much cheaper too. Bars also afford a group of friends the opportunity to see a gig without making it the central feature of their night out. If you go to a gig at the forum, you really only go to hear the music. If, on the other hand, you see a gig at the Tote, you can hang out at the bar, or go outside and have a smoke, plus chat between sets (as well as during the sets if you really want to). You can hear a few tunes, catch up with your friends and have a drink, without feeling like you need to give all of your attention to the music. For a musician, this could be seen as slightly dispiriting, but it's actually a very good thing. When you're starting out, it can be nice to know that people in the audience can have a good time regardless of whether or not you play a good set. You're only a small part of their evening, so you don't have quite the same pressure on you as you do when you're headlining a 300 capacity venue. At the same time, there's something special about catching a rising band at the point in their careers just before they get big. Many music fans who regularly attend bar gigs will have a memory of the time they saw some band playing to 10 people one night of a residency, only to come back the next week to see them play to the same room, now packed to the brim. Hearing bands at that moment is exciting, and they're often fondly remembered as the band's best gigs, both by the audiences and the musicians themselves. Special moments happen in all sorts of music venues, but there's something unique about the kind of thing that can happen in small bars, and music fans are rightly worried of losing the opportunity to hear them.
If we look at the way that these liquor licenses have been imposed, you can infer a particular set of premises, which would go something like this:
• Alcohol causes violence.
• The later a venue stays open the more likely it is to create an environment that is conducive to people getting violent.
• Venues with live music are more likely to have violent incidents than those without.
• Increased security is an effective way of curbing violence in venues.
The most contentious of these premises, and the reason for the protests resides in the third point, that somehow venues that host live music are immediately considered to be "high risk", and therefore require more security.
From the rally, these were the points that SLAM used to counter those premises:
• "High Risk" venues are important to the community and should be protected.
• Increased security is unnecessary, and therefore place an unfair financial burden on venue owners.
• Small venues can't profit if they comply with the new security requirements.
• Live music has no correlation with violence.
• Music promotes behaviour that is in opposition to violence, that, as was quoted (not particularly accurately) at the rally "Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast".
It was this last claim that made me uncomfortable, and that seemed to be a case of overreaching. It's in the interests of SLAM to deny all of the claims made by the government in relation to alcohol-related violence, and, largely, I think that they're correct to challenge them. However, everyone listens to music. To suggest that violent people won’t listen to music and, in some cases, use music as a way of psyching themselves up, is absurd. This isn’t because any music is immoral, but because it’s amoral. Music is like food, or like air. Its importance in the fabric of people’s lives is why so many are protesting these laws, but it also means that it’s ridiculous to suggest that it only ever calms violent people down.
Another issue I had with the speeches at the rally is that I never heard anyone mention the factor that opening hours play. Most of the extra cost imposed by the new regulations are for venues that open later than 1:00 am. For instance, in regards to security cameras, the Liquor Control Reform Regulations Regulatory Impact Statement (pdf) states,
The Director of Liquor Licensing has the power, under the Liquor Control Reform Act, to impose conditions on liquor licences. The Director routinely imposes a condition requiring the installation of security cameras on premises that:
• trade after 1 am and have live or amplified music.
While I can understand that it may not be possible for these places to make a profit without staying open past 1 am, this issue wasn’t really dealt with at all. However, these are minor issues, and really only examples of people at a rally not choosing to talk about both sides of the issue quite as evenly as they could. This is to be expected. It was a rally, not a debate, and it wasn’t there to air opinions of the opposing side. The government has already done that, largely by instituting these laws in the first place.
Of course, people at SLAM didn’t need to make any claims about music being anti-violent, it only needed to quote from the very report that led to these laws: the Liquor Control Reform Regulations Regulatory Impact Statement. This report specifically mentions live-music venues as being examples of venues for which they don’t have much data:
In relation to other venue types, particularly those offering live and recorded music, limitations in the data (missing or incomplete data) prevented drawing any firm conclusions about whether they represent a risk factor.
In fact, many of the implied premises of the laws can be challenged simply by looking at the Impact Statement. While live-music venues are being forced to provide security staff now (though I can’t, unfortunately, find the licensing section that mentions this requirement), the impact statement notes that
higher frequency of aggressive acts at licensed premises has been linked with the following staffing and management practices:
• Aggressive security staff.
It’s clear that the suggestion that live-music venues are somehow more susceptible to violent acts is not backed up by any data, and therefore the new regulations that are being imposed are entirely inappropriate. Near the end of the rally, it was announced that the SLAM organisers had reached an accord with the State Government. You can read this here (pdf). It certainly seems to suggest that this issue may be resolved in a way that should be much better than the regulations currently active but, unfortunately, this will be all too late for some much-loved venues.