Music Writing: Hazardous To Your Well-Being

And I don’t just mean your mental state (although that certainly gets its knocks)! The Guardian today looks at the long, glorious history of musicians and fans giving back to those people who dare criticize the music they love. And by “giving back,” I mean “physically attacking, sometimes with knives.” I can’t tell if these stories are making me feel better because the only retributions I’ve received are mean e-mails or if they make me feel worse for not saying things that get people really riled. But my colleague has apparently not had the same problem as me! After the jump, I talk to Idolator’s own Jess Harvell about his top three biggest threatdowns.

mauraatidolator: so tell me: what have been your top three threats as a rock critic? Here are the details I want: mauraatidolator: a. nature of the threat! mauraatidolator: b. what inspired said threat! mauraatidolator: c. did you call the police? mauraatidolator: and … go! jessdolator: ok jessdolator: 1. A.) I was spit on at a show in Baltimore by some random lady after someone who knew who I was, i.e. music editor for the local paper, pointed me out to her. B.) From what I could discern through her drunkeness/rambling, I probably gave a friend’s band a mediocre review. C.) I did not call the police, because I didn’t perceive a 108 lb woman with a lot of saliva and good aim as a danger to my person. Though I did need to wash the jacket. jessdolator: 2. A.) I came into work one morning to find a threatening message in my voicemail, where the caller seemed to be saying they were coming looking for me to do me some non-specific harm. B.) Honestly, I have no idea. It could have been writing-related or it could have been some guy who dialed the wrong extension when he wanted to threaten the classified department. C.) I did not call the police, but I referred said message to my higher-ups. I dunno what, if any, action was taken. But I’m still here. jessdolator: 3.) At a bar one night, after learning what I did for a living, a gentlemen proceeded to shower me with epithets, climaxing with him hoping that I got “cancer of the ears.” (Admittedly I was drunk by that point, so he might have been saying “cancer of the anus.” But I assumed ears, what with the whole rock critic thing.) B.) Because rock critics still get hated on in small cities. C.) I did not call the police. But the bartender told dude to chill. And he did. mauraatidolator: Which was the scariest? jessdolator: Well, I dunno about “scariest,” or even “most violent,” since none of them actually got to the hitting stage. But I have to admit the phone call was pretty unnerving, mostly because it’s always a little weird to wake up to someone saying they’re out to get you. But again, it might not have even been directed at me. jessdolator: Which doesn’t make it any less unnerving! mauraatidolator: Vaguely threatening phone messages are really scary!! mauraatidolator: I mean, have you seen the ads for One Missed Call? jessdolator: The technological terrors of our time. mauraatidolator: Any final thoughts on the “people vs. rock critics” phenomenon? Also: Should I start going out of my way to bait people? jessdolator: I do not miss getting spit on while trying to enjoy my night out, so thank you, Internet, for providing me a with forum that people don’t read next to me while I’m sitting at the bar. Also, yes, but if you’re really lucky, you’ll piss off a musician and get a song written about you, joining the ranks of greats like John Leland and, uh, Guccione, I guess. mauraatidolator: Well, as long as nobody takes me to task for my dad getting more pussy than I do, I guess I can live with that. jessdolator: I don’t think anyone’s questioning how much pussy you get. mauraatidolator: Holla! jessdolator: Girl, please.

Musical hack attacks [Guardian]