I didn't even realise there was such a thing as A* minus... But hey, it must exist. I feel so special.
But reading through this essay, which was supposed to sound like an interesting article originally, it sounds terrible unless you understand what I was supposed to do.
So I'd like some people to read it and tell me if they thing it's A*- material... I know it's long, but I will be eternally grateful.
Music Journalism Comparisons
By Sophi Enever
Music journalism is a very wide genre – it covers any kind of journalism connected to music, including interviews, reviews, biographies and rants. Just like any journalism focussed on one thing, like sport or gardening, music journalism uses the technical language of the subject. The audience is always people interested in music, though the age and style varies. In music journalism it is very important to set a mood/air – this gets across both the feel of the subject (band/song/genre etc) and the writer’s opinion; a common way of doing this is using a sustained image, sticking with one thought/theme to put an idea across. Music is the best form of journalism to show use of this – possibly because music is separated into different genres. Styles of music, and the style of people to go with it, are usually categorised into terms which mean different things to different people.
I have been looking at four different pieces. The first piece was an article from the Guardian Guide music section, predicting the direction British music will go in during the new year (2006). This piece was not focussed on anyone in particular, so it mentioned many bands. There was an obvious sustained image. The second piece was from the Q Classics ‘Nirvana and the Story of Grunge’ collectors’ magazine, and was about the start of the band’s career and their style at the time. There is a mood which is reflected in both the subject and the words. The third and fourth pieces I looked at were both reviews of live performances by bands. One was a recent review of a performance by band Biffy Clyro in Kerrang! magazine; the other was an article about a Rolling Stones concert, from an unknown music magazine of the 1960s. I found these articles were fairly parallel, despite being from completely different levels of maturity in music journalism.
My first article was in the Guardian Guide music section in December 2005; in which “John Robinson places his musical bets for 2006”. Unlike the other articles I looked at, this article was not about a particular artist – therefore it hopped from band to band, genre to genre, opinion to opinion. This could have left the article thoroughly fractured and awkward were it not for the sustained image running through it. The whole time, Robinson acts as though the British music industry is a sport, a race, and he is a keen follower “placing bets” on who will come out on top. Saying things like, “For any tipster hoping for a home banker…” and insisting that some bands “offer plenty of promise for 2006”. This persuaded the reader to swim through the whole article as it changed its subject repeatedly (in a very interesting structure) to the end.
Robinson, it seems, is quite anti-genre. Believing music genres to be functionless in the description of new bands, as they can sometimes be too confining, and sometimes too vague. Robinson prefers to compare a band to another which people mostly know, at one point describing one as “essentially Maxïmo Park on an overcast day” – meaning a paler imitation of Maxïmo Park. All of my other articles use other bands to compare at one point or another, but none in quite the same way. Robinson uses them in exactly the same way as the genres he seems to avoid using, like: “Ian Dury-style” meaning similar to Ian Dury, “Snow Patrol/Keane axis” meaning music of a comparable style to the two bands, and “post-Libs rock” meaning obviously influenced by, but not quite the same as the Libertines. This method, perhaps, brings the reader’s musical tastes to the surface, helping them see whether they might enjoy one band because they like the band he compares them to. He does this in a more obvious way when he says:
“If you like the Magic Numbers, you might like Boy Least Likely To as well”
Although, as far as he tries to run from genres, all the bands mentioned in Robinson’s article can all be slipped under the umbrella of “Britpop” – which he mentions at the beginning of the article. His use of this genre has been picked up on, shortened, and placed in the middle of the text as a subheading: “The return of Britpop may lead to less songs about cream teas and more to being eccentric”
The structure of the text characterises the jumping from topic to topic. Beginning all about one band (Arctic Monkeys), and their enormous success which leaves little room for any other bands to be talked about. Ending about one band, their “continued influence”, and how new bands are rising from their ashes. And in-between, comparing one band to another one moment, describing a particular style the next. All of this can be easily divided, although if this is done, the whole article sounds monotonous - of course it is not. Humour, and puns like saying Morning Runner “have left it all in the gym by now”, make it generally easier. And the sport-like image excites the reader about every fresh band mentioned. There are pictures of two bands, captioned “Up and coming…” and introduced, making it easy for the reader to keep an eye out for them in case they took an interest in the article.
“John Robinson places his musical bets for 2006” does not seem to be the main heading it technically is, mainly because it is in no way exaggerated. The only part in bold is the writer’s name, it’s not in a hugely bigger font than the main text, and it is not capitalised. In contrast the title of my next article is in gigantic, creatively styled letters, taking up almost a quarter of the page along with the sub-heading.
“HELP ME, I’M HUNGRY” The heading, title of a song by the band, screams out in white over part of a dark picture, covering two pages, of two members of Nirvana breaking equipment. The piece I looked at was only the beginning piece of a whole article (which went on for nearly two more A4 pages), and was in a small font on one side of the spread, under the heading, and avoiding covering any of the action in the picture background. The subheading told that the writer was John Robb (coincidentally similarly named to the writer of my first piece), and that he was about to reminisce how “Starving, weary and smothered in “grimy man-stink”, 1989’s Bleach tour had frazzled Nirvana.”
The first word of the main text, “Crash!”, is not only an immediate indication of the band’s exciting performance, but also of the piece’s use of anger and action. Indeed, the article continues throughout to reflect the gig’s mood, which reflected the album’s mood, which reflects the band’s mood at the time. Not forgetting the mood of 1980-90’s Seattle-based genre, Grunge. Words like “disdain”, “dangerous”, “big rush”, “sludgy doom”, and “screeching” come together to trigger familiarity of the “feedback-scarred” dirty riffs, angry lyrics, and heavy “dumb metal power” of Nirvana’s first album. The first paragraph is in the present tense, and informs us on location, band members’ full names and the action on stage. Here is the first of only two mentions of the audience, “more a gathering than a crowd – nine attendant fans step back”. This line holds a certain amount of ambiguity, not only suggesting the audience to be small, but also indicating a feel of religion. A “gathering”, gathered interestedly to listen to and watch this new band. “Attendant”, serving, following, “as one”, as a cult. Indeed later in the band’s career, this group of faithful followers grew and gave more than the later mentioned “near-silent response”.
The article is very opinionated; Robb takes a very personal, first-hand approach when describing the state of music in July 1989 in the second paragraph. Instead of saying something secondary, like “Most people believed the mainstream was for scumbags”, he goes straight in and states “The mainstream is for scumbags…” He says rock is over run by “poodle-haired bands”, giving an image of a poodle’s hair clipped into a standard pattern; tame “lightweights”. John Robb feels the same frustration as the band, disgusted by the bands around and irritated by how the ‘80s is ending, “No wonder Nirvana are destroying their gear” – this helps the reader to sympathise too with the people searching for a new sound.
The third paragraph begins “Onstage” and continues describing the action on stage. This gives a feel it’s been going on meanwhile the second paragraph. The continual action gives this piece a buzz that the others did not; indeed there is no action at all in the piece from the Guardian Guide. It’s a good way to start a fairly long article as this one is, in full, and brings the reader in.
In the final paragraph on this page there is a comparison to another band, “A sludgy doom borrowed from Black Sabbath”. This is not written quite the same as it might have been in the Guide article (perhaps “Black Sabbath-like”) instead it’s “borrowed” from another band. This is better because it leaves the band with an original style; they’re not copying, just “borrowing”. The band is too high up to be stealing other people’s stuff; I noticed that in each of the articles there is a band with an almost messiah-like status. Even in the unfocussed Guide article – describing Arctic Monkeys as a band that has “bypassed the status of being “ones to watch” and gone immediately for… the No. 1 hit”. Not surprisingly, in the Rolling Stones’ article they themselves are the highly praised and loved band. And in the Biffy Clyro review, the band is even described as “more popular than Nirvana round these parts”.
The layout of the Biffy Clyro article by Ben Myers is very clear – it is the same format for every band reviewed in this section of Kerrang! magazine. It gives first the band name (Biffy Clyro), the support act’s name (A Bagpiper), the place (King Tut’s, Glasgow), the date (16.12.05), and the “K rating” out of five (KKKK). As for the Rolling Stones review… Well I’m not actually sure on the original layout – fault of my mother when she cut out the article and stuck it in her music scrapbook, without date or source. Although it doesn’t look as though it would have had any of the same layout features as a “Kerrang! Rated:Live” piece. This article was from the early ‘60s (exact year unknown), when music magazines were really only just starting. I thought it would be interesting to compare this mysterious and inexperienced article with a similar one from a current but also well-established and familiar weekly magazine.
Both articles begin in a similar way, under a subheading containing humour and summing up the band.
“Been to a Stones rave? Yes? Then you’ll know the feeling. No? You’ve never lived. Come to Guildford with us and be stoned!”
– The end of this is firstly taken as a pun on the Stones, but then one notices the lack of a capital letter on “stoned”. This strengthens the implication of the pun, and ups the shock-factor. Perhaps nowadays, subjects like drugs are a little more taboo (as drugs themselves are), but it is also more usual to be as shocking as possible on purpose. Unlike the rest of the article, the subheading of the Biffy review sounds a lot tamer than that of the Stones review, rhyming “Beards” and “beer” with “Christmas cheer”. It sounds nice, perhaps a little more suited to the 1960s piece; which then goes on to say that the band “were ages late” – not a phrase much used these days.
Perhaps it is just the style of writing, or perhaps concerts themselves have changed completely since the ‘60s – maybe it’s both. The Biffy review is in present tense the whole way through, like the Nirvana article, possibly a style developed a little further into the world of modern music journalism. Due to being in the past tense, the Stones performance sounds a lot more passive than Biffy’s “party”. At the start of the Stones’ gig at the Ricki-Tick Club, we are told, the band was very hungry (“the way you get if you haven’t eaten since breakfast”); somebody then fetched them food and coffee from across the street. Whereas at King Tut’s, a bagpiper is “doing his breathless best to get a mosh-pit going” and the “thermometer on the sound desk is threatening to burst before we’ve even begun.”
I doubt that the audience for the Stones was quite the “blur of bodies” in the mosh-pit at King Tut’s; but there were enough excited people for there to be “Mod elbows jammed into Mod ribs.” (Perhaps early forms of Mod-moshing…) Mods were a group of people with a certain fashion and music taste, in this article the writer talks about them as though they are a species of their own, with all the same characteristics: “Mods don’t usually mob anybody,”. Both bands are indicated to be quite well-known. The unknown writer presuming that readers will be familiar enough with Mick Jagger to know what him “doing his walk” looks like. And Biffy playing classic songs for “some of the most devoted fans of any bands in the uk right now.”
Ben Myers mentions a fair few bands, some which have joined Biffy in previous gigs as part of the same residency. At one point it compares a song in a fairly John Robinson (Guardian Guide) way, “all Gary Glitter-style stomping”. And compares Simon Neil’s “glorious roar” to that of Kurt Cobain (Nirvana). Mick Jagger himself is said to have “mocked” the crowd by saying a song written by a Rocker (the Mods’ basic enemies) was written by the Beatles (most definitely Mods). And it was later said that “Mums will never want to mother Brian or Mick, like they will Paul Beatle”. The only other band mentioned is the fill-in group, who were apparently playing “good R and B” (very different to the modern ‘R&B).
The articles end in fairly similar ways. The Stones review writer saying that “as long as our parent hate them, we will love their music.” – This possibly shows that the audience were teenagers and young adults, still rebelling against parents. Ben Myers said that Biffy “wear their guitars… like machine guns across their chests.” And that they “mean business”. Both writers had positive predictions for the bands. The Rolling Stones still being a fairly new band, the article was ended “Long live the Stones!” And the Kerrang! article ending in a “Here’s hoping,” that they’re coming back strong with their new album.
One thing I noticed in the Rolling Stones article was the use of first names. Only once was a member of the band called by his full name, Keith Richards, the rest of the time it was Brian, Bill, Mick etc. This was either a sign of the under-development of music journalism, or simply because the Stones were a recent and familiar band. In the other articles members were usually called by their full names first, (Simon Neil, “Kurdt” Cobain, Chad Channing etc) and then later shortened to the surname (“Cobain finally finishes what Channing started”). However, in the Guardian Guide piece, full names were used the whole way through because specific bands and people were not focussed on for very long.
Whether it’s on purpose or whether it comes naturally, it seems music journalism writers’ styles change with the genre. From the dirty, angst-ridden darkness of grunge, to the neat old-fashioned style of the Mods. Keeping a theme that matches the subject keeps the reader attached to the writing. This is something which has been part of music journalism since the beginning.
