CONFESSIONS OF AN INTERNET ROCK CRITIC
- Dr. Johnny Walker
It's a long story, but I'll make it a short one. Back around the end of 1994, I wrote a Bryan Ferry concert review for Consumable. It was thrilling to see it published. Soon I was writing for a number of online rock publicationss, also including ex-MTVer Adam Curry's (remember him?) The Vibe and Michael Goldberg's fledgling Addicted To Noise. Money began to trickle in, and eventually I had to go for the big bux and said goodbye to good ol' Consumable. ATN struggled along, but there I got to write long essays in the style of my hero Lester Bangs, to whom ATN was dedicated. I also met heroes like Ian McCulloch of Echo & The Bunnymen and James Dean Bradfield of Manic Street Preachers. Mac was so cheap he made me pay for my own beer. James Dean seemed to be running on a few hits of something very speedy. But hey, they were British rock stars!
* Best interview ever: a hilarious encounter with Portland's The Dandy Warhols.
* Worst: a scrap with surly Mansun leader Paul Draper and embarrassed guitarist Dominic Chad.
* And no one EVER offered me drugs - such was the life of a rock critic in the PC 1990s.
Anyway, soon ATN was bought by Sonicnet and the money improved -- for me at least -- by leaps and bounds, but the spirit soon left, making a mockery out of the mag's dedication to the memory of Lester Bangs. Adam Curry, meanwhile, decided he couldn't compete (a wise decision) and folded The Vibe. I was offered a job as ATN reviews editor in San Francisco, but no one could figure out how to get me there from Toronto as anything other than an illegal immigrant. I suggested doing the job by telecommuting, but that silly idea was shot down (the gentleman who later took over did it by - guess what - telecommuting!). ATN then hired a bunch of silly, shiny people who made rock and roll sound about as exciting as opera, and I slowly withdrew (or was withdrawn, more accurately) to the reviews page, the only place left were even a shred of vitality was allowed.
Meanwhile, those writers and editors who had carried ATN in the all-important period leading up to its big-bux corporate sale (or sell-out) were slowly written out of history by the new crop of yuppies. When the magazine inevitably (and thankfully - Lester can now stop spinning in his grave) bit the dust last month, it was as as if we all had never existed - not even a "thank you." Well hey, and a hearty "fuck you" to all you boys and girls as well! You're all about as "rock and roll" as a fucking tea cozy, I might add.
Anyway, so now Consumable -- which always kept its integrity because it resisted the lure of big money -- is folding too. Given the state of rock and roll, the timing is right. I now often feel like my parents: "That rave shit, that's not music! " I find myself grumbling. Like classical, like jazz, rock and roll is dead but lives on: there will always be a skilled new practitioner to come along and excite the remaining disciples, but the cultural currency of rock was used up when Kurt Cobain refused the mantle of rock star and instead embraced death as an alternative, not so neatly ending what started with Elvis. Everything else from that point on is a mere footnote.
But hey, at least I had something interesting to do while I finished my dissertation.
Good luck, Bob! (And I still say Rosa Mota was a great band!)
