Further Musings on Writer’s Block: Day Two

As the writer’s block seems to continue, thoughts dance through my head that anyone who know’s me would be slightly confused with. Sure, it’s a well-known fact (at least by those who know me) that I’m a huge art, history and music buff, and as such, these are the topics that typically dominate my writing. Even business and tech have come to the forefront of my preferred subject lists, even as I continue to educate myself in them.

What only those closest to me know is my real fascination with things that are well outside the realm of any humanities study. I was never a strong math student; in fact, I hated math. I hated it every day, every night; because it never made sense in my head that there can be only one answer. I was raised by two lawyers—in my world there’s never just one answer. Thus it would follow that as I’ve completed my schooling and graduated from college, I would only interact with math in professionally necessary capacities: taxes, data metrics, simple calculations, etc.

Yet in times when I find the creative juices refusing to flow, times like today, I find my mind drifting back to topics of mathematical thought, and other topics that are most days seemingly beyond my appreciation. Because why should sitting and pondering mathematical principles appeal to me? I struggled every day in grade and high school with it. Want me to write an 8-page essay? No problem, done in a couple hours. Do these 30 math problems? I’ll see you next week.

Perhaps it’s precisely my artistic mindset that drives me to ponder about things like mathematical thought and application—the worst thing for an artist is to feel that you’ve mastered something so much that it’s become stale to your growth. Mastery of any such thing in itself is irrelevant; what matters is how it feels. Am I being challenged or is this a rehashing of what I did yesterday? Thus on day two of my writer’s block, I find myself thinking not of tech trends or the socio-economics of medieval Britain, but of the interconnections of math principles and philosophical thought. Go figure.

Musings on Writer’s Block

Some days, the words flow onto the page very easily, and some day’s they don’t. Today is one of the latter. That said though, even writer’s block itself can be a constructive lesson in writing. It teaches you that even the most adept writer struggles sometimes to come up with a thought process worth putting down for others to read.

But that actually begs a few question about the thought processes we as writers discard as “not good enough.” Are they really not up to par, or is it simply our nature as writers and creators to deride ourselves until we come up with something truly “worth writing?” Just today I’ve discarded numerous ideas for posts because they didn’t seem to be “enough” for me to put out to a readership.

But perhaps that sort of self-critical thought process is in fact too self-critical. Self-criticism is part of the creative process—it’s what we as creators feel helps us push forward to our greatest productions. So perhaps the whole writer’s block demon is indeed a blessing in disguise. Irritating though it might be, it nonetheless helps us to distinguish our sub-par thoughts from the truly remarkable ones. For me, I’ll try to keep a more open mind when it comes to the writer’s block I know will inevitably come back around.

Why I Tend to Write Longer Posts

Some Topics Require Them

For those who have been reading and following my posts over the past couple months, it won’t come as much of a surprise that I prefer a longer format than just a couple of paragraphs. Of course this doesn’t mean that I seek to write book-length essays, but I find that a number of the topics which I’ve covered recently deserve a lengthier response. That said, in the digital age where news it consumed at a light-speed rate, I realize that there is certainly something to be said for the terse blog post as opposed to its longer cousin. I suppose it’s worth noting where my tendency for longer posts came from, and why its germination was welcomed at the time.

Terse Little Blurbs Did Not Suffice

When I first began my career in blogging, as a music journalist as it were, shortened posts never got the job done to my liking. Terse little blurbs are cute and easy to read, but within the context of the music reviews and explanations, they do not suffice (and indeed the reason I started writing in the first place was because the reviews I was reading were unfocused pieces of fluff at best). Thus for me, it became necessary to lengthen the music article so that it addressed its subject matter appropriately—or at least to my liking.

I decided that if I was going to write music reviews, than my readers were going to be able to “hear” the music after reading my article. They would get a basic rundown of the instrumentation, the time breaks, the lyrics—things that make songs really unique. Otherwise, I reasoned to myself, what would be the point of reading a music review anyway? Music journalism, at its core, should be about the music, not the intra-band politics that so many publications seem to think take premier importance.

But I digress.

Debating with the World

To go along with my penchant for writing detailed posts on music and performances, it’s also worth acknowledging that I am and always have been a student of history. For non-history majors, this means that in my world, research and arguments go hand-in-hand, and you would never dream of presenting one without the other. As a result, I find it quite against my grain to write a post and not back it up with a series of sources and/or further arguments.

Brevity is indeed a virtue in many parts of life, but too much of a good thing is never good (as the saying goes). Brevity used beyond its worth doesn’t help you present a good piece to your readership; it leaves you with a dangling point, and them with questions about where the rest of the argument is. Does that mean that every post should be footnoted at the bottom? Of course not. But it does mean that presenting an argument that is fully-fleshed out (or as much as you can make it so) is much harder to disprove. There is something to be said for viewing every blog post as an opportunity to debate with the world. And win.

Two Stories of Sexism in the Music Industry

The kind of BS sexism we need to eliminate

The kind of BS sexism we need to eliminate

The Scourge of Sexism

With the issue of gender equality fast becoming one of the central topics in Silicon Valley (and by extension, the tech and startups industries) at the moment, I can’t say I’m anything but pleased. The problem of gender discrimination and the glass ceiling is long overdue for a solution. While I harbor no fantasies that such a solution will be found overnight, I am nonetheless pleased to see that there is a major effort being made to reform these shortcomings in the tech industry.

As a male, I can confidently say that gender discrimination hits very close to home for me; my parents both practice civil rights litigation, with a focus in employment discrimination and sexual harassment. I grew up seeing cases of blatant discrimination (and unfortunately it makes me angry to say I still do), where the the ugly beasts of intolerance and sexism were clearly visible. The latter, in particular, surprises me again and again because we are taught to believe that we’re moving forward in eradicating sexism—but not fast enough in my opinion. We still have a lot of work to do.

While the tech industry is starting to really spotlight and root out sexism within its ranks (as well it should), other industries are lagging too far behind in my opinion. The music industry, for example, is still too hampered by outright sexism for my taste, even after movements like third-wave feminism and Riot grrrl punk began to shatter the mold. It’s not a foregone conclusion by any means, and there are many within the music trenches who are trying very hard to change it for the better—to level the playing field so that gender becomes irrelevant—so that talent is acknowledged and validated by its inherent existence, regardless of the artist’s gender.

But let me provide two examples of what can be changed, and how people can step in to make the music arena more tolerant and progressive. Neither example makes me happy to share (less happy to have experienced), but perhaps that underscores their importance.

The Sleazy Promoter

The first example happened a couple of years ago, in the spring of 2013, and goes like this: I am good friends with a band whose members included a female element (the singer and drummer). The group was set to work with a promoter to book shows in their home state (which, though eliminated by name, I can say is quite a big market for independent music). The promoter made inappropriate and unwelcome advances towards the female band member(s) and the group cut ties, not wanting to work professionally with someone of such poor character quality. The promoter then retaliated by threatening to call every promoter within the state, seeking to destroy the group’s reputation, thus effectively cutting out their feet from under them. (In this particular state, I can say with confidence that there are at least seven major cities and/or scenes that they most likely split their time between).

I was in Amsterdam at the time, on my study abroad program. I woke up one day to a frantic “what do we do?? we’re going to get totally screwed by this person!” email from the singer. Even through text it wasn’t hard to clearly read her fear and anger over the situation. So her solution? Reach out to me in search of some advice.

The response I sent her was simple: I explained to her that I was behind her, and would throw the entire weight of my blog and radio show behind her and the band (and would bring in other artists I knew for support if need be). I even offered to write a letter as a professional contact (DJ and journalist) attesting to their quality as a band and professionalism as people, which they might use to send to anyone to rebuke the slanderous threats of this sleazy promoter. She seemed calmed by that offer (and most thankful, as you can imagine!) and we decided to see just how events would proceed.

In the end, the promoter never made good on his threats, and the whole situation seemed to blow over. But I never forgot that frantic email (I’m sure she hasn’t either), and to this day I’m still good friends with her and the band. The point is this: such a situation should never have occurred, and it very quickly seemed to spin out of control. But in situations like these, one needs to have the wherewithal to step up for what’s right. I didn’t do anything I didn’t think others wouldn’t do in the same situation. You don’t do it for pats on the back—you do it because it’s right.

The Sexist Tweeter

The second example happened more recently, during the Super Bowl this year. One of the Super Bowl commercials was to promote the hashtag #LikeAGirl to promote gender equality. This is one commercial I loved and supported, and I made so known on Twitter. This was the result:

The sexism problem that needs to be solved

The sexism problem that needs to be solved

I was actually staggered by the sheer sexism of the comment that I saw on my post. Someone telling me that I was sure to “get laid” for supporting “those feminists.” I was angry—actually I was seething. Not only had this person insulted the women that my comment was meant to support, but had dragged my name down too by insinuating that my motive was “to get laid.” I work with numerous artists—many of them with a female element—and I was pissed that this person had seen fit to insult not only people I work with, but people who are my friends.

The music industry is like the tech/startup industry in this respect—not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but trying very hard to get better. And here was someone dragging us back to the dark ages. This is exactly the sort of thing that people in both industries (or any industry) need to find and root out. The people who make these comments and hold these views are toxic. It’s not (and won’t be) easy, but it has to be done. And it will be.

I for one will be on the lookout for it in the music industry, and will call anyone on it. I encourage other to take aim at sexism and gender discrimination in their respective industries which they know best. Music is my world, and I will not have it polluted with this sort of poison. Don’t step into my house and disrespect my business contacts and friends, it’s as simple as that.

Start Writing—Anything

In a short piece posted earlier this morning, Hunter Walk talked about writing, and how the need to be right is many times what stops people from putting their thoughts out there. Whereas some may seek to “write the definitive post” on a topic as Walk puts it, his advice, rather, is to pick something you’re fairly confident you know about and “riff a bit.” This is directly in line with my thinking when it comes to putting out something with my name on it; do the best I can writing the piece, make sure all basic spelling and grammar is correct, and then see what comes back my way in terms of commentary or questions.

I would, though, dare to take Walk’s advice one step further: if you want to start writing, don’t just write blog posts—write anything. Write news articles to learn how to instigate an investigative process, write essays to learn how to really flesh out an argument, write poetry to better understand the concepts of metaphors and literary devices, do interviews to learn how to speak to people and translate it into compelling writing. Not all of these things will pan out (and you may not enjoy all of them, or even any of them), but in sharpening your teeth on different writing styles, you lear how to mix and match to make your own pieces (blog posts, for example) more powerful.

As you descend into learning each new style in a hands-on way, the need to be right will fade some, and what you come away with is a more comprehensive understanding of presenting and/or winning an argument. The ironic side-effect of this (in my experience as a music journalist) is that people suddenly begin to think of you as a voice to take seriously. Go figure: stop trying to be the definitive voice, and somehow you get closer than you ever were when you were trying!

Of course, there’s an even more basic reason to write (and very much a reason I do): it helps the mind to work through new concepts and move the creative process along. Don’t worry too much about being right—just write.

Why Music Journalism Bias Works

A Shopworn Adage

When I began music blogging, one of the first things I heard repeated over and over was the phrase, “you need to be unbiased in your journalism.” I heard it even more when I shifted my focus from writing about artists that everyone already knew about to ones that people should know about. As I retuned my radar (under the moniker Underground Takeover) to scan for artists that were up and coming, I noticed that the skepticism became more palpable; it seemed that writing a post slamming a new artists—being “unbiased”—was somehow a badge of honor that marked one as “a real journalist.” Yet something didn’t fit.

Me with Those Mockingbirds at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA, 3/9/14

Me with Those Mockingbirds at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA, 3/9/14

The shopworn adage that music journalists should be and need to be unbiased when reviewing music doesn’t work in practice simply because it’s based upon a flawed premise. Non-bias works well in coverage of politics and economics—however, it does not work well within the realm of music and art. Music is an individualized, subjective response to the world or to life by each respective artist. It is a contradiction in terms to try to judge that individualized, subjective response by an impersonal, objective standard, even assuming that we could agree on what that standard is. In addition to that internal contradiction, the fact is that so-called “objective” music journalism is unenjoyable to read either by the music fan or by the artist. Indeed, I didn’t—and still don’t—like writing negative music journalism. Concluding that a work of music is either “great” or “terrible,” or somewhere in between, fails to provide the reader with an understanding of the artist’s intent, or worldview, or what the artist was seeking to express by his or her creation.

Music At Its Core

At its very core, music is simply another form of art; an expression by one or more creative minds of how they see and interact with the world. As with all forms of art, you either like something or you don’t. You may like it somewhat, or it may grow on you after a period of time. All of these possibilities have nothing to do with how “good” or “bad” something is. Within the context of art, concepts of “good” and “bad” don’t exist. How can they? I’m not much of a Rolling Stones fan, but there are a ton of people who are. I’d prefer to listen to a Wipers album (if you know who the Wipers are, then I’m impressed), but my preference doesn’t make me right or wrong.

What I learned from my days in music journalism is that, regardless of what one might glean from watching Almost Famous or reading Rolling Stone, today’s world with the internet and plethora of music blogs and journalists has brought about the democratization of music journalism. This has created a new view of music journalists within the music community, both by artists and by journalists as well. This new perspective is that if you write negative pieces, you’re just some fool with a laptop and internet connection; but if you write positive pieces, then you become a credible news source. And amazingly, this new understanding of music journalism is held as much by music fans as by the artists themselves. After all, when someone attacks an artist I love as “derivative” and “overdriven,” then that journalist attacks me by extension, an action which does not engender a positive feeling in me for the writer.

Me with Sunshine & Bullets at Smith's Olde Bar in Atlanta, GA, 7/5/14

Me with Sunshine & Bullets at Smith’s Olde Bar in Atlanta, GA, 7/5/14

I expect that the established music journalism world will say that without articles ripping new album releases, music fans will be unable to know what’s “good” and what’s not. But as demonstrated already, that line of thinking is flawed in itself since the notions of “good” and “bad” don’t exist within the confines of art at all. You either like something or you don’t—”good” or “bad” simply don’t enter into the equation. (Outside the scope of music journalism, interestingly enough, Marc Andreessen makes a similar point about journalism in general in the new age here, when he spoke last year at Stanford).

I do not advocate for writing positive pieces about music one doesn’t like. If you don’t like a piece of music, it’s impossible to fake a positive review written well enough to fool a reader. Thus it becomes clear that one should write about the music that really resonates with one’s personal tastes. Don’t write rap music journalism if you’re a punk fan. But the flip side is also true: when you’re writing about something you absolutely love and can barely contain yourself long enough to lay the words down on paper because you’re dying to get back to that song again—well your audience can also tell that, and from my experience, that’s when you have them hooked.

Don’t Be “The Enemy”

The added benefit to writing positive pieces about music you like is that you very quickly begin to develop relationships with those very artists. You will no longer be held at arm’s length—as “the enemy” portrayed in Almost Famous. Instead, as you become as much of a fan as those who attend the artists’ shows, you will benefit from reciprocal artist loyalty in most cases that becomes indispensable to you as a writer. I could never have imagined how much reputation is tied to what and how you write until I started getting emails from friends of friends of artists I’d reviewed, asking me to review or interview bands they knew, or their own bands. This opened me up to opportunities I’d never even considered but retrospectively was so lucky to be able to be exposed to (something that Steven Sinofsky talked about here, when he spoke at UC Berkley last year).

Me with June Divided at Warped Tour Atlanta, 2012

Me with June Divided at Warped Tour Atlanta, 2012

Within my own universe I began to do things I’d never thought of. Writing music articles turned into artists seeking me out to do interviews (and making themselves readily available to do so), artists sharing demo mixes with me weeks or even months before final products were released, and artists asking for my opinion, initially just as a fan and eventually as a friend. It’s a wonderful feeling to see your name in the liner notes of an album by an artist you so doggedly support.

Through all of these experiences, I became privy to things that I never could have, had I been shut out as the “enemy journalist.” Having a reputation as an “album killer” may be good for climbing the corporate ladder at an established music magazine, but it’s counterproductive in the real world of music. If you want to sit behind a desk all day and write reviews that will garner views because of how ruthless they are, by all means do that. But if you got into music journalism to talk to artists (which I do daily), to go to shows and (very possibly) get waved past security backstage (which I have been often), to get press access to festivals like Warped Tour (draw your own conclusions here), and grow a reputation as someone to be in contact with within your industry (draw your own conclusions here too), then I highly suggest reaching out with a positive keyboard to this industry.

 

Thanks to Dad, Charles Jo, Scott Menor, and Terrence Yang for reading drafts of this.