Novel Treatments / D&R intro (Analysis)
Discord & Rhyme
Volume 8, Issue 1
By Cecilia Parker, Content Editor
Not long after Discord & Rhyme published its inaugural issue, someone asked me if I wanted to be Jane Scott . I had no idea who she was. Like most people, I was only familiar with the boys of rock journalism – Lester Bangs and Jim DeRogatis, Lonn Friend and Rob Sheffield because they show up on all those VH1 shows. And of course, Chuck Klosterman.
It’s ironic because in many ways, whether by nature or nurture , women are better suited to be rock writers. We possess greater verbal and written skills, we’re more empathic, and we have a greater awareness of ourselves and others. Who better to talk about an emotional, visceral response to a record, discuss multi-faceted lyrics, or how social upheaval or personal conflict affect the artist? We should be dominating the world of rock journalism. Instead, we’re reading the opinions of pasty-faced, skinny white guys who can’t get laid.
Why is that?
I think it’s because they’re afraid of us.
Rockstars are, at their hearts, misfits. Pretty much everything they do is to compensate for being pummeled during dodge ball. Male rock writers, with their own tortured pasts, understand this, so they scribble about music and all it implies with great reverence.
Intelligent women, meanwhile, can’t help but look at any photo of a metal band and giggle at its exaggerated self-importance.
Being a female music journalist means contradicting myself. It means loving an art form despite its pervasive misogyny, and it means embracing a world that really has no role for me aside from that of supporting and glorifying its own existence. I’m surrounded by men who are drawn to, confused by, and running from me, while the women resent my status as something other than a groupie, gold digger or fan. Publicists and other business types dismiss me because I’m not employed at Rolling Stone, Blender or Spin, all publications that reek so strongly of testosterone it’s amazing I don’t sprout a mustache just from opening the cover.
Then there’s the feared nemesis of traditional journalism – the blogosphere. Pimply-faced guys who ramble about boogers, farts, and how the world is stacked against Them, middle class white males (Since when?). Hey, did you see that chick’s boobs? Oh and by the way, here’s this kickin’ song by that cool new group…
This is what music journalism is turning into? At least Howard Stern was smart enough to get paid for his schtick.
These days, the height of commercial success is an appearance on “American Idol”. Major labels rosters are overflowing with derivative rappers or bands whose greatest attribute isn’t talent, but the stupidity of being shot numerous times, or starring in a homemade sex tape accidentally leaked to the ‘net. Since 80% of broadcast radio stations are owned by one mega-corporation, what chance do real music aficionados have of finding those artists that make them feel like their songs were put on this earth just for them ?
One of the benefits of being a rock writer, aside from the free stuff, is having an excuse to chase down your favorite rock gods and ask them all the things you’ve always wanted to know (without being arrested). Of course, trying to explain to family and neighbors what you do with your evenings, weekends – and oh yeah, those road trips – is a bit tricky, but it’s a better option than becoming some sad anti-depressant popping, overeducated American women employed in a respectable but unsatisfying 40 hour a week job.
In that spirit, I decided to finagle an interview with the first, but certainly not the last, songwriter to steal my heart – (insert band name here)’s Sutton Daugherty. Sure he’s still the fantasy of many women who learned about the facts of life from Judy Blume, but ask yourself – would you be questioning the motives of a male rock writer if he wanted to interview Gene Simmons, Mick Jagger or Sir Paul McCartney?
A few other random thoughts:
• I’m not Nick Hornby’s emotionally stunted, pop music elitist protagonist searching for existential meaning in the ghosts of relationships past.
• Despite how much I adore Cameron Crowe, I don’t do semi-politically correct, early 70’s, coming of age, nostalgia trips.
• I resent the hell out of makeover shows that use the phrase “age appropriate”. If I want to shop in the juniors section or own pink and black Converse hi-tops, I will. It’s not as if I’m wearing Hello Kitty or some shit.
• Don’t call me an “Aging Hipster”. I’m deadly accurate in stilettos.
• I’ve never called New York or L.A. home.
• Not everyone has a collection of backstage passes, ticket stubs, wrinkled set lists, guitar picks and broken drum sticks. But maybe they should.
• Sleeping greyhounds are perfect greyhounds; even if they do emit toxic fumes from their butts.
• Chocolate covered pretzels are divine inspiration.
• I’m a huge proponent of beaches, pool sides, vacations, sunscreen, and anything containing vodka, even if it does have a little umbrella in it, but don’t expect any chick-lit type plot twists or neat little endings.
• This isn’t a love story, and there is no happily ever after.
• While I never aspired to be Jane Scott, I never wanted to follow in the guys’ footsteps either. My first inspirations were a direct result of television in the 1970’s – Evel Knievel and Dorothy Hamill. In essence, my future meant choosing between ruffled outfits in pastel colors or a guy so crazy he couldn’t get insurance.
Sex.
Drugs.
Music.
Mortgages.
Family.
Expectations.
Welcome to my world.
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I liked reading this alot, it’s to the point and in your face. You can’t evade your main character, she’s stern and influential, to the extent where it seeps out of the pages. You can’t avoid the plot and even though it’s an ‘editorial’ you can feel the bigger story that’s about to unfold. What I liked about it was that it doesn’t feel like you’re reading it, it felt like Cecilia was sitting opposite me and informing me about it.
The writing is supurb and even though it’s not the genre I usually read, I think it’ll jump out and grab nearly anyone, if not Cecilia will make sure of it.
thank you
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This bit of prose is deadly accurate for those ladies who wish to go into the music field. If they think having a job reporting vaious hairstyles and who was in whose beds was tough, try the pop music scene. `Rockstars are in their hearts misfits` is so true. Look at some of the greats, Mich Jagger, Gene Simmons, Janis Joplin to names but a few. I commend you for such an inciteful look into the problems of a female music journalist. Keep going. Thank you.
It’s definitely an entertaining way to introduce a character with plenty of amusing witticisms and parenthetical banter. “I’m deadly accurate in stilettos,” for the win! I’m not entirely sure how well this introduces the story entirely (as this is the only bit I’ve read, which should definitely be remedied), but to elaborate on my first statement, it works wonderfully as a sort of narrative musing for your main character to introduce herself with or provide the reader with more information about.
I have mixed feelings about the bullet points. It makes sense to format that ‘list’ in such a way, but at the same time, there are alternatives. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you view it as the Artist in Residence), reformatting adds even more content to keep the narrative flowing.
“compensate for being pummeled during dodge ball” – trying to imagine meatloaf being pummeled during dodgeball… perhaps he’s the exception, huh?
well… put me in the “loved it” column… much of what you say is totally true… i think you described the world of rock and rock critics/rock world pretty accurately… this is coming from an outsider of course…
i loved the bullet points – the random thoughts – the most, i think…
i have no idea how this fits in with the rest of your piece, but for my money, this bit totally.. ummmm… errrr… rocks!
Very apropo,cynical but apropo.A very good definition of the characters mind set and outlook on life as a rock journalist.Your description of the attiiudes, biases and egos of most of the rock community are well founded.The trials and tribulations of a female reporter/journalist in that setting are the makings of of a real good book.
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