Yes, it’s true: I’ve decided that once I’ve finished writing Music Journalism 101 (very soon, that will happen!) I’m going to develop it as a free, shareable ebook that you can distribute under a Creative Commons license. But in order to do this, I need your help.

I want ideas for additional content!

While I am going to edit and potentially revise the course content prior to pulling the content together, I have been thinking that I might jazz it up a bit. I was thinking of all sorts of possible inclusions, such as samples of my own work: interviews, reviews of releases and events; or possibly additional exercises; plus maybe a farm of links to recommended reading online… the list goes on.

So, I want your feedback. As potential readers of this book, what would you want to see? And what would make it valuable for you to read and go back to as a resource? Please add comments if you have other ideas not covered by the poll. Thanks!

[poll id="2"]

Past posts you might dig:

1. Music Journalism 101 j. Writing the feature article.
2. Music Journalism 101 g. Preparing for interviews
3. Music Journalism 101a. Introduction.

The previous three instalments took you through preparing for interviews, and conducting interviews by phone and by email. Having got your skills down in actually doing the interview, your work is only two-thirds done. Now it’s time to learn how to pull it together. This is where your writing skills are vital, and why I’ve always stated that the best music journos are writers first and fans last.

Writing anything always comes down to purpose and audience. Without a strong sense of purpose, your writing will wander; without a strong sense of audience, anything you write will fail to hit the mark with your readers.

To some extent, music journalists and critics have it fairly easy because they always write for a defined audience, and, usually, they have a defined purpose. The purpose will usually be explained to you when the interview is confirmed: it is usually to promote a new album, or to promote a new tour. Such interviews easily comprise 90% of a music journalist’s work.

The daunting thing is knowing that if you’re a metal music journalist, that vast numbers of metal fans are very much metal geeks, and will generally have some sort of criticism about your work. This is why doing your research is so vitally important, especially if you are not incredibly familiar with a band. Even if you are not a metal geek, you can still do amazing work provided that your research is tight and you set high standards for yourself.

Good writing skills, as I mentioned above, are vitally important. One of the ‘standard’ formats for interviews in metal journalism, which you see online and in print – one that annoys me – is the regular old Q&A style ‘write-up’. If I’m going to be perfectly honest, to me a Q&A is not a write-up at all – it’s cheating. Anybody who’s ever written anything for me knows how much I dislike them.

Of course, such a format does have its place; at the same time, however, they aren’t as interesting to read, and they don’t force the writer to think or to utilise all the information he or she gained during their research stage.

One of the benefits of writing a full-length feature is that it gives you the opportunity to show your readers the personality of the interviewee. This is conveyed through how you represent their speech, the comments you make along the way, and any surrounding context you can put into a feature. For instance, you might interview someone who is rushing around doing pre-tour tasks while talking to you on their mobile phone, or who was driving somewhere interesting on their way home from a studio or something; you can’t use that information if you’re just writing Q&As. But in a feature, you can highlight where your interviewee was amused, or annoyed; you can explain where they were, you can use small talk and pre-interview conversation as one of the means of providing an insight into the person whom you are interviewing.

Musicians, of whatever level of fame, are just people. The best features give you an insight into that person, but doing it well requires you to write clearly, concisely, and engagingly. This is why writers generally – whether they are writers of fiction or non-fiction – tend to produce outstanding work: good writers make people their study.

But first, onto the method for getting your interview material into a useful format.

To transcribe or not to transcribe: that is the question

If you’re just starting out, it is a good idea to fully transcribe the recording of your interview, if you did it by phone or face-to-face. Once you’ve got a transcription, you pretty much have a plan – if your questions were structured well enough – to guide you in how to structure your feature article. Emailers are easier in the sense that they completely cut out the transcription step of the work.

One of the benefits of transcription is that you can start to think about the best placement for your material. You also have the added benefit of being able to print off the transcription (if you work best in hardcopy for planning), in order to work out which parts of the interview you want to use as direct quotes, which as paraphrase, and which as additional commentary or contextual information. Being able to scribble on your transcription to make notes for such a purpose can be highly beneficial.

If you’ve been doing this sort of thing for a while, it is natural that you will begin to work directly from the recordings: you’ll have the experience behind you that will give you the ability to know instinctively which material works as supporting info, and which parts to use as quotation.

But – in the beginning – always transcribe. It takes longer, but the skills it provides you with are invaluable.

Remember you are writing a story

All features are a story, in the same way that a piece of fiction is a story: it features a character (your interviewee), engaged in a particular subject (your purpose, generally an album or tour), and you need to write it in an engaging way, filled with expression and quotation (and dialogue, too, if you feel it fits).

To some extent, the structure of your interview questions will dictate the structure of your story; once you’ve analysed your transcript, you’ll know how the story will flow best, and which parts of it will be most engaging if they are presented directly.

The notes that you made during your research will provide you with good background information, which is hopefully verified or fleshed out by your interviewee. Engaging with the readers, generally fans of a band, is important: therefore if something is common knowledge amongst fans you can point out that fans will know X or Y, and you can go on to explain it for others who may not be au fait with that information.

The pyramid mode of writing: top down

There is a type of writing mode, known well to those who studied communication or technical writing at uni, known as the ‘pyramid mode’. This mode of writing dictates that a summary of the most important information should always appear at the beginning of a piece of writing, with the remainder flowing on from it.

In some ways, it is well to remember this when writing feature articles. However, if you write for a publication or blog online, then generally this is dictated to you anyway, through the need for a title and a teaser, and then the body of the article afterwards.

In print, such a structure is not defined by others on your behalf. If you find yourself writing for print, it is well worth keeping in mind that a strong feature will generally include some type of ‘summary’ at the top. But always be careful when you write them. It is one thing to write an abstract of an article, and something entirely different to write an engaging introduction that summarises the who, what, where, and why of what you’re writing.

When you find yourself in this position, always go for the engaging introduction, rather than a bland summary or abstract of an article. Why? In the first instance, you want to draw your readers in rather than put them off; in the second instance, it’s easier to write than a clinical or abstruse manifestation of what you’ve otherwise done; in the third instance, writing an engaging introduction can be done at the start rather than at the end of what you write, provided, of course, that you revisit it when you finish the feature to make sure that it is a true reflection of what you’ve written.

Important things to remember

1. Paraphrase to create prose

The material that you have from your interviewee, which you are not using as direct quotes, is not wasted material. This is where your richest material will, in fact, come from: you can paraphrase it, change it around, and use the information you have gained from the interview as part of what you are writing. It is perfectly legitimate to do this, provided you don’t get it wrong. If you have done sufficient research ahead of time, then what you gain ought to verify what you already know.

2. One sentence between quotes does not a feature article make

Given that writing full features is an often arduous and difficult task, it becomes tempting at times (especially at busy times) to plonk in a series of quotes with some scant intervening material. This is not a feature article: it is a patchwork of quotes, held together by the thinnest of connective tissues. If you don’t have time to write the feature properly, negotiate with whoever you are writing for, for an extra day. Going the extra distance to knit together a powerful article is better for your career, and for your self-respect as a journalist, than is turning in something that is on time but sub-standard.

3. Your article should have a natural sense of rhythm and flow

You can tell if your article has been poorly put together if its constitutent parts do not flow on from each other seamlessly, and if you are not drawn to read on from one part to the next. If on a re-read you find yourself drawn inextricably from the beginning to the end, however, you will know that you’ve done a good job. Keep an eye on the rhythm of the piece and on how it segues from one part to the next, and if it jolts or is gappy, do whatever you can to fix it – the end result is worth it.

4. Restructuring quotes is acceptable

Sometimes when you transcribe your recording, you will find that parts of some answers to questions are follow-on comments from material or issues previously discussed. In this situation, if you want to use it as a direct quote, you are better off shuffling the material around and putting the same material together – and this is perfectly acceptable, provided you quote accurately.

5. Be careful of making assumptions

If you find that your interviewee is tired, speaks as though he or she is homesick (especially on tour), or there is something else that piques your interest, be very wary of writing it as though it is fact. You are better off, if you find yourself in this situation, to leave any comments like that out of your write-up. Instead, file it in the back of your mind as something to ask as an additional question the next time you find yourself in a similar situation, and get the information directly: you might be wrong about what you’re hearing otherwise. If you do write an assumption as fact, it is feasible that you’ll find yourself the brunt of a very pissed off musician who requests amendments or, worse, that the entire article be pulled – thereby displeasing your editor and/or your publisher. It’s happened to me once, and once is enough. You learn very quickly from such mistakes.

6. When it’s finished, put your article aside and go back to it to proof and re-read later

One of the most important things you can do when you’re writing features (or writing anything destined for publication, let’s be honest) is to set the finished product aside once it’s done. If you can, let it lie fallow for a minimum of 24 hours, and don’t think about it at all during that time. It is incredibly valuable to go back to it with fresh eyes after you’ve had a break from it, because you will pick up errors in spelling and grammar, places where the flow is broken or inconsistent, and areas that you know can be rephrased or tightened up. This will especially be the case with your introduction.

7. When you think the article’s finished, read it aloud

Yes, you need to read it aloud, and yes you will feel like a right tosser reading your work aloud to yourself. However, this will give you the final insight into flow, and into grammatical and punctuation errors. If, when you read your work aloud, you stumble, have to re-read parts, or it otherwise doesn’t ‘feel right’, you know that those areas are the ones that you need to go back and fix.

Next time

The next instalment of this course will be the final one, and it will take you through common spelling errors and other issues that are the bane of all editors’ existence.

If you have any questions, this is your final chance to ask them!

Please contact me and let me know if you have questions, if you are unclear on anything, or if you have any comments. These will all go into a final Q&A instalment of this course, which will be final post in Music Journalism 101.

Past posts you might dig:

1. Music Journalism 101 i. Emailer interviews
2. Music Journalism 101a. Introduction.
3. Music Journalism 101c. Ethnography at Gigs

In the previous instalment of this course, we went through the process of conducting interviews by telephone: how to prepare yourself, interview technique, dealing with Mr Business, and keeping your focus on your goal and on the conversation all at once. In comparison to telephone interviews, email-based ones (which we call emailers) are easier in some ways; but they can also be far more maddening.

Do emailer interview questions need to be different?

Yes they do. Sorry to disappoint you. Once you work out your style, you will be able to short-cut the process of writing questions, however. All you have do to, once you’ve mastered the ability to write good telephone interview questions, is tailor them for an emailer format.

While getting a good interview over the phone comes down to interview technique and – although I hate to say it – the quality of your voice (such as in how you project yourself, how relaxed you sound, and how prepared you are), you could strip the requirements for what makes a “good interview” by email down to two things, and two things only. These are:

1. good questions
2. having a person at the other end who is relaxed, has time to reply, and is reasonably good at expressing him- or herself in writing.

How to write good emailer interview questions

You already know how to write interview questions; but let’s revisit 101 G anyway, because the information and advice there is as applicable here as anywhere:

How to pull your notes into interview questions

Like everything, there is a simple method to writing interview questions. The key is getting the method right, and engaging in it religiously.

1. Sketch out everything that you want to know about or talk about
2. Write out all those points as single questions. Don’t double-up unless you have to – meaning, the second part asks for an expansion on the first part: it should never be a second question
3. Make sure all your questions are individual questions
4. Make sure all your questions are open – that is, they don’t require just “yes” or “no” responses
5. Make sure they flow nicely – that is, think of all the possible interactions between yourself and the interviewee arising from each question. Reorder your questions until the interview flows smoothly
6. Read the questions aloud to see if they flow nicely when spoken (need I mention that this is vital if you’re doing the interview by phone?)
7. Critically analyse how many questions you have, and cull where necessary
8. Re-order until you’re happy.

Keep your series of questions focused. Once you have got your questions together, as per the above list, go through it once more and keep yourself to ten questions or less. My best interviews, for instance, have been done on between five and eight questions, regardless of format. However, I do believe that keeping to a basic ten questions looks like only a few, keeps your interview focused on what is important, and enables you to engage in a write-up that isn’t overly long or arduous.

Ask yourself whether the questions could be answered without clarification. In a telephone interview situation, your interviewee has the luxury of being able to ask you what you mean if he or she doesn’t quite get it. This can prove essential for people from non-English speaking countries (and in metal, that’s a LOT of bands). If you are in doubt about anything, rewrite until you’re happy.

Something that has quickly become my own rule of thumb is adding contextual information for your question, when it goes out in an emailer, unless it’s bleedingly obvious what you mean and what you’re asking about. Don’t be afraid to tell the person at the other end that you read on some website about [this], and your question is [that]. If anything it proves how far you’ll go to be as original as possible, and it gives your bland little email some character and personality.

If you’re writing an emailer for a person whose first language is not English, keep your sentences short as hell. Don’t ramble on for two or three lines. Keep it short and sweet. Not only will this enable greater comprehension if the person’s English is poor, but if he or she has to resort to language translators, then the software will cope far more admirably if you don’t have a ton of phrases running into each other, separated only by commas.

Finally, double-check, triple-check, and check again until you’re happy. Remove any questions that could be answered too easily or stupidly (unless that’s what you’re after); avoid yes-no questions; and make sure that your language is pitched just right.

The difference between speech and writing

Most musicians are used to giving telephone interviews; it’s just the way it’s done, unless you happen to get lucky and get in on the ground, face-to-face. Sure, that’s obvious, you might think. What might not be obvious is that most people are quite comfortable talking to somebody else. And yet, a lot of people freeze when they have to write anything.

Why this is the case is anybody’s guess, but as a writer, editor and publisher myself, my firm belief is that it comes down to a person’s childhood. At school, we’re all told what’s wrong with what and how we write, and are rarely congratulated for it. Only suck-ups get the congratulations. We hear in the media all the time about how poor our literacy is, whether we’re children or adults. It has given nearly everybody a complex.

So with this in mind, you have to remember that if your interviewee is not particularly comfortable in writing, you should be prepared for a returned interview that might not meet your expectations.

Other factors to consider about emailers

There are a few other factors about emailers that you’ll want to consider.

• If you get the opportunity to start right at the beginning with your music journalism, go for phoners first. This will help you test-run your questions and technique in person. You can tell an awful lot about how prepared you really are by the demeanour of the person on the other end of the line. It’s more nerve-wracking (my first ever interview, phoner, was with Rob Halford for instance), but it’s better for your development in the long-run.
• Think about the format of your email, and never assume everybody runs a Mac or that everybody runs Windows. If you’re sending an attachment, make sure it’s a Rich Text File (*.rtf) because RTFs are multi-platform and run without any trouble. Usually.
• It is tempting for some people to write little notes in an email, sucking up to a band, gushing about them or to them, or otherwise getting into fanboy or groupie territory. For the love of god DON’T do this. It is good to include a note at the beginning thanking the interviewee for their time, and noting that you know how much longer emailers take than phone interviews. That’s it. Gush is just disgusting (sorry to be so blunt).
• You don’t have the luxury of following the conversation, so your questions need to be as full and insightful (and open-ended) as possible, and they need to flow one into another easily and logically
• You might not get the interview back for a long time, especially if your questions are convoluted, despite repeat tries
• The person at the other end could be tired, busy, not giving a shit, or even pissed off that he or she has to do it in writing, and this might affect what he or she writes, or their attitude in general
• You might well get monosyllabic responses, to even the most open-ended questions, and not be able to use any of it (yes, that’s happened to me)
• Your interviewee, despite all your best efforts, may totally misunderstand what you mean, and answer a question you haven’t asked (when this happens, it’s not usually something you wanted or needed to know)

Next time

You can look forward to some information, how-tos and advice on actually pulling your interview together. The next instalment will be far less journalism and all about the finesse of writing a good piece. Stay tuned!

In the meantime, feel free to drop comments below, as always.

Past posts you might dig:

1. Music Journalism 101 g. Preparing for interviews
2. On interviews and credibility 1: metal music journalism
3. Music Journalism 101a. Introduction.

This is just a quick heads-up to you all that the next instalment of the music journalism course – conducting interviews – is coming your way this week.

You can look forward to reading this before 25 August. Stay tuned.

Past posts you might dig:

1. What’s happening to the journo course? Lots. Soon.
2. Watch this space for serialised book – coming soon

It is no secret that interviewing bands is a nerve-wracking affair. Most interviews you read are conducted by highly experienced music journalists, and it seems that they set the bar pretty high. Fear not – even if you need to meet an extraordinarily high standard, there is a method that can set you going in the right direction.

About nerves

There are a few things that cause you to feel nervous about talking to bands in an interview situation In my experience, these nerves come from a few common places. These are:

1. Awe. If you’re a fan of a band or musician, then this is going to be your biggest thing. My most nerve-wracking interview was the first time I talked to Rob Halford. But that was equal parts awe, and equal parts of the second – standards. Dealing with awe-inspired nerves is perhaps the most difficult; all you can do is remind yourself that these people have been doing their thing for a really long time, that they are still people, and that manners and good preparation goes a very long way with other professionals. Think of yourselves as colleagues – because that’s how it often pans out.
2. Standards – set by yourself or by others. If you are interviewing a band or musician that’s been around for a long time, then you’re going to be nervous about meeting standards. In all likelihood, you are never going to be able to ask a question they have never been asked before – but you should strive to be as original as possible at all times, without getting weird, nasty, or just plain stupid. See also point (1) about awe.
3. Lack of knowledge. You don’t need to be a total band geek to conduct an excellent interview; in fact, sometimes it can help if you’re not. But if you don’t have a great deal of knowledge, which can come as much from not knowing a band from a bar of soap, as not having heard enough of their back-catalogue, then it can make you nervous as hell. Happily, there is a way around it: good research. See the next section for details.
4. A recalcitrant interviewee (in-interview). This comes down to interview technique, and a certain mindfulness – this will be addressed in the next instalment of the course.

Dealing with nerves can be hard. But at the same time, it is something that you can use to your advantage. If you are nervous, it’s a signal to you that you need to take action of some kind, and becoming engaged in the interview process is one of the best ways of dealing with that nervousness. However, the nerves you experience immediately prior to an interview – that is, in the five minutes before a phone call takes place – can really only be dealt with by being properly set up, having checked that everything works, and breathing deeply.

Always remember that interviews, at their best, are good conversations. That is really what you should be aiming for: a good, engaging, two-way conversation that you can remember fondly.

What makes a good interview great?

Is it the interview method, or the questions themselves? Well, these are both important – but what makes a good interview great is the amount of research you put into it beforehand.

There are some very basic, bog-standard things you can do when you are preparing to interview a band. Broken down into steps, these are:

1. Determine whether the interview is regarding a new release, or a tour, or both.
   1. if it’s about a release – make sure you get a copy, or at least one rough-cut – to listen to, to get a sense of the release
   2. if it’s about a tour – you need to find all of the details about that tour, and information/reviews on the previous tour, if possible
2. Read as much about the history of the band as possible. Given the pervasive nature of the internet, this is so much easier now than it was ten years ago. Find the official biography, the label’s biography (if you have access to it), fans’ details of the band, and so on. The bio will give you a way of attacking the interview. Some artists, like Bumblefoot, have a really personal bio; others have very little at all.
3. Read as many news items of the band as possible, from a diverse range of places. What you are looking for is a key piece of information that is unusual, striking, or odd. These things are great conversation topics.
4. Find the band’s discography, and get familiar with it. Any live albums that stand out? Any split releases that stand out? Any artwork that is striking? What did their early material sound like compared to the new (if you have access to it)? Doing this will likely cause small items to stand out on their own, as being worthwhile bringing up in conversation.
5. Read reviews of all releases, to get a sense of how the band has progressed, what the major issues have been for fans and media in the past, and what expectations are like for the new release. This should give you some material to consider asking.
6. Get as many additional details on a release as possible: guest appearances, who the producer was, where it was recorded, where it was mixed, who did the artwork, who the engineer was, what the early promo has been like. This enables you to find out what the team that the band worked with was like. How was the art created and how much input did they have, and so on.
7. Get as many details on a band’s tour cycle as possible: some bands tour not much, others tour for three years at once. It’s rich material for finding out how they cope, and how much effort they put in for their fans. Some bands, for example, have a really good family that helps them through; others rely on alcohol to blast their way through a tour; still others have small things – like an interest in architecture – that keep them interested when they’re on the road continually.
8. Read other people’s interviews with the person or band you will be speaking with. This is perhaps the most vital thing you can do, because it gives you a sense of what the person or band is like to talk to (talkative or otherwise) and how they respond to certain questions; it gives you a sense of personality, so you can prepare yourself mentally; and it gives you a really good idea of the types of questions that other people are asking, what to avoid, what might be good to know more about, and so on. This can really help you with your interview framework.

Take care over your interview questions

It is important to take care over your interview questions, because your questions will frame your interview. In the first instance you want to make sure you cover the ground you need to; in the second, you want to eliminate closed questions; and in the third instance, you want to ensure that the questions flow well.

While you can bang up a set of standardised interview questions upon which to base all other interviews, I don’t recommend it. It can give you a good framework, sure, but at the same time, all of your interviews end up sounding the same, coming from the same perspective. It also means that you run the risk of being stereotyped – something which I suggest is good to avoid. Having a new set of questions for every band also helps you to remain memorable: never forget that bands are friends with other bands, and do actually talk to each other.

If you can get to the point where major musicians with a big history tell you that your interview was awesome – three months after said interview took place – then you’ve hit your mark. No, it’s not impossible: this happened to me in early 2009, and you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Take from this a good lesson: you’re far better off being humble and professional, than caring about syndicated writings. If you get a reputation as an excellent journalist among the bands first, then the industry will hear about you from those bands (which is very credible), meaning you’re more likely to go the distance.

How to pull your notes into interview questions

Like everything, there is a simple method to writing interview questions. The key is getting the method right, and engaging in it religiously.

1. Sketch out everything that you want to know about or talk about
2. Write out all those points as single questions. Don’t double-up unless you have to – meaning, the second part asks for an expansion on the first part: it should never be a second question
3. Make sure all your questions are individual questions
4. Make sure all your questions are open – that is, they don’t require just “yes” or “no” responses
5. Make sure they flow nicely – that is, think of all the possible interactions between yourself and the interviewee arising from each question. Reorder your questions until the interview flows smoothly
6. Read the questions aloud to see if they flow nicely when spoken (need I mention that this is vital if you’re doing the interview by phone?)
7. Critically analyse how many questions you have, and cull where necessary
8. Re-order until you’re happy.

If you end up with more than thirteen interview questions, refine them. Most interviews run for an absolute maximum of twenty allowed minutes (especially by phone), so you need to make sure you can cover what you need to in the allowable time frame. If you have too many questions, and haven’t considered possible diversions, then you end up in a situation where you either ignore conversational threads (which are often very interesting) or you follow them and don’t get the information you want. This is why having a small, precise list of questions, which allow for expansion or diversion, is important.

The reverse is also true, though. If you have a recalcitrant interviewee – one who is not particularly forthcoming – then you may need to think on the fly to get some engagement happening if your questions are too limited.

Set, and strive to meet, high standards. Always.

As always, if you approach all parts of your journalism work with professionalism, those with whom you interact will respect it. While you might be nervous about meeting the high standards of other journalists in the field, you can literally only ever strive to meet the highest standards possible. If you make this something you engage in all the time, then you will naturally float to the top of the pile.

Some people feel that there is a culture of elitism in the music industry – and especially in metal – which is justified. It doesn’t mean that anybody who works in the field as a journalist should feel overwhelmed by it, or put upon because of it. Instead, it’s a challenge for you to meet a very high standard; that challenge is a worthy one, and one that calls for all of your knowledge of the art, and all of your professional flexibility.

It doesn’t matter whether you’re a student, a volunteer, a staff writer, or a freelancer: you must always strive to meet high standards. A solid method, a good framework, and a clear knowledge of what you’re doing and why, will go a long way. You can always skip steps in each part of the way, but if you do, you need to remember that you are also eroding the foundations that support your work.

Coming up in 101 H: Conducting the music interview

The next instalment of this course will cover the ‘in process’ interview: asking questions, dealing with talkative and/or recalcitrant interviewees, following conversational threads, and so on. Stay tuned!

Past posts you might dig:

1. On interviews and credibility 1: metal music journalism
2. Music Journalism 101a. Introduction.
3. Music Journalism 101c. Ethnography at Gigs

The previous chapter of this course will hopefully have made you excited about learning the nitty-gritties of writing your release review, after having honed your critical ear. This chapter will show you some of the traps to watch out for – including why imitation can be flattering to others, but why it’s not necessarily a good thing. It will also take you through form and structure, key elements that must be included, and how to turn your critical notes into insightful commentary.

 As mentioned several times throughout this course, and demonstrated with various references, the art of criticism is applicable across nearly any art form. Your style will change according to what you are reviewing, as will some key elements, but the basics and tenets of good, effective criticism are almost infinitely flexible.

Find your point and stick to it (or, succinct writing is essential)

Regarding music journalism, it is rare that you are given the luxury of being verbose. Most publications allow a maximum of 500 words per review; meaning, therefore, that all of your critical notes, including your assessment of an album’s production (top- and bottom-end, production values, and where elements are placed in the mix), the best elements, the worst elements, the experience of particular tracks, lyrical themes, artwork, and so on, have to be squished into a couple of paragraphs. 

Writing succinctly is an art in and of itself. One of the world’s masters of criticism, expat-Australian Clive James, tied the notion up very neatly in a review of Robert Hughes’s The Fatal Shore (1988) when he stated that good journalism is:

 ’… seeing the point and keeping to it’.

 The easiest way, in my experience, of being able to stick to your point is seeing what that point is in the first place: it gives you a notional framework within which everything else you write fits, and helps you to structure your review in such a way that you are able to prove that your point is valid.

 To define what your point is, ask yourself what you think of the album. Don’t refer to your notes, just recall the experience of it and think of three or four words that sum it up. You might find that a release demonstrates a band’s evolution in a particular direction, or a growing maturity in a genre. You might find that it made you want to saw your leg off with a blunt saw rather than listen to it a second time, or perhaps even to listen to the second half. Whatever it is, this is the whole point of your review: you must somehow pull your notes together to support this contention.

Understand what is required of you

Now that you know what you are going to write about, you must get a handle on what the publication requires of you. Almost every publication of any quality has a dedicated style guide that ensures every article within it has a certain titular style, a certain formatting style, and – if it’s online – that certain keyword fields are completed.

 If you are provided with a style guide and you don’t use it, you will irritate your editor very quickly – and you will find yourself shuffled down the list of priority writers. Those who follow instructions easily, will naturally be less work for those who edit and/or moderate it. Take heed: this might not seem important, but it is vital if you seek longevity in the industry.

 Once you’ve got a handle on the necessary styles, which will guide the physical elements of what you write, and you know roughly the shape into which you must mold your review, it’s time to put pen to paper – or, rather, fingers to the keys.

Form and structure are important

Writing a release review is not rocket science: fanboys do it, groupies do it, bored people do it for something to do, and most music journalists (and metal journos in particular) are not writers in the first instance. If you are a writer in the first instance, then you will have a far more mature style and a greater grasp on language and the micro elements of writing (like punctuation). You will also be less likely to simply imitate somebody else’s style – more on that later. 

Put simply, a good review will:

• provide a summary at the start that gives a basic overview demonstrating the point to which you are going to stick
• discuss the overall experience of the album, weaving in the production values, any startling or interesting facts about it (such as guest appearances, or its origins or history), giving the reader a sense of the album as a whole
• highlight stand-out tracks, or tracks on an album that demonstrate your point, or which are worthy of mentioning due to stylistic variation, particular skills that the band display, demonstration of changes in style from one album to another, or other interesting or striking elements. These will come out of your critical notes: for example, you might review a black metal album with a remixed electronic version as a bonus track, and that would be worth mentioning; similarly, a great old-school thrash album that features one track full of breakdowns and metalcore vocal styles would be odd for other reasons, and is similarly worthy of particular attention
• sum up the album in a final paragraph, with an assessment of it in terms of listener experience, band history, genre, and any other points that you may have missed; you may also include here a recommendation to the reader as to whether or not it is spending up to $35 on
• include a final line with label, release date or purchase details if it is required by your publication.

Appreciate your own style

Some publications out there – like Terrorizer, Metal Hammer and others – have writers who display styles that are instantly recognisable. Some reviewers have a style that I personally don’t like: reviews are filled with analogies, and strings of adjectives and other descriptors that obfuscate the review. Reading one or two is good fun; reading more than that gets old very quickly. Clarity and simplicity are far more effective from the reader’s point of view in the long-run.  

Whether or not I do or do not like a particular style is of no regard. However, what is an absolute sin is trying to imitate a style like that without really understanding how to do it. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery – except for writers. Writers who shamelessly imitate another style lay themselves open to ridicule, especially if that style is identifiable. It can also slow the development of your own style, much to your detriment.

 Far better is to go with who you are and what you do: with a ‘take no prisoners’ and ‘fuck ‘em all’ attitude. Eventually, that is, if you don’t start out your journalistic life with a writing style you’d be happy to call your own, you will develop one. That style is defined by certain phrases that you favour, the types of analogies you use, your own peculiar sense of humour (or lack thereof), your level of pedantry, how informed you are, how you wield your punctuation, and more besides.

 Writing is an art form that people take seriously, because it morphs the language you use every day into a more formal style. Therefore, while you may not be confident about your style initially, you can at least appreciate that you have the balls to put pen to paper in your own way; confidence follows with practise.

Common pitfalls

Writing a review seems easy, doesn’t it? That’s because, if we’re honest with our readers, it is. However, there are several pitfalls it is worth being aware of, in order to avoid them.

 Good things to avoid are:

• Filling your review with strings of adjectives and analogies: to my eyes, a writer who goes the long way about describing something does not have a clear idea of what he or she wanted to say in the first place. Better to be clear: one simple, effective analogy will beat a line of convoluted descriptors or vague analogies any day.
• Being too geeky and filling your review with information that is irrelevant to the release under scrutiny. It can be a fine line sometimes, especially with a band that has been around for a long time, because it can be tempting to display one’s knowledge about a discography, or how changes in band members have affected the sound of a band. Four words for you: it is not necessary. Save that sort of thing for interview write-ups.
• Describing every single track in detail, for the simple reason that unless there is a very good reason (such as a concept album for which you cannot get a full sense of it without talking about how the tracks fit together to complete the concept), it is boring to read.
• Talking about one track as though it is indicative of the entire album, without saying whether it is or not. Your reader will start to wonder whether you only listened to one track in order to get out of your review cheaply.
• Writing statements of which you are not one hundred per cent certain. If you are even slightly in doubt about something, make sure you check it – whether it’s the name of an engineer, the sound of a particular song that you can’t quite recall, or whereabouts the album was recorded. Similarly, if you are stating that an album is a milestone (like, the tenth or fifteenth full-length), make sure you’re right. Nothing destroys your credibility quicker than inaccuracy.
• Omitting an assessment of the production values of an album. It might be a fabulous cock-rock release, but if the production values are Dark Throne-esque, and you don’t mention it (and if people go out and buy the release on your recommendation) then you’ll find yourself creating more enemies than fans.
• Failing to proofread or spellcheck your review: the basics of good writing are essential. Make sure you proofread what you write – better yet, read it aloud to see if really does make sense – and check your spelling. Do that and the people in the office will really appreciate your work.

Check your review against your notes: the benefit of a good edit

Before you finish and submit your review, it’s often a good idea to check your review against your notes, and to run it past someone that you trust, for feedback purposes. Ask yourself whether you get a sense of the release, and the listening experience of the release, from what you’ve written. Are any key points left out? Would you consider your review to be insightful? Have you made too much of some elements and not enough of others?

 It’s always a good idea to let your writing sit for a day or so before you go back to it for this purpose. It helps to give you some distance from your work, so you read it more objectively. And never be afraid to totally rewrite your work if you’re not happy with it. A good self-edit can often make the difference between a good review and an outstanding one: changing a word here and there will not have the same power as completely recasting a paragraph.

 By reading your work to someone else – especially if that someone else has heard the release – can also be very beneficial. That person may suggest something you’ve left out, or may query a phrase that they don’t understand. A second perspective can be invaluable.

Coming up in 101 G.

Now you’ve covered event reviews and release reviews, what’s left? Oh yeah! Interviews : the most fun – and most stressful – job of the lot. The next chapter will talk very quickly about researching and writing interview questions, conducting an interview, and the basic tenets of a good write-up. Stay tuned!

Past posts you might dig:

1. 101 E. Reviewing a new release: stage one
2. Music Journalism 101d. Reviewing a band’s performance
3. Release review: Paindivision – One Path (Riot Entertainment)

Hopefully, if you’re diving into this next part of Music Journalism 101, that you’ve already read and made sense of 101 B – Ethnography. If not, and you only have a vague sense of what exactly ethnography is, I strongly suggest you go back and read it.

This section of the course does not cover how to write a review of bands performing on a stage in front of you. What it does cover is everything surrounding that: the show itself (people, sound, lights, vibe etc.). 

Also, with a bit of luck, you will have been practicing your observation skills, and learning the nuances of every situation you find yourself in. If you have been serious about learning how to hone your observational skills, you will also be finding yourself able to fairly sharply recreate those situations in writing. I am going to reiterate here that writers need to do ethnography – so if you don’t write, and you’re attempting ethnography, it’s possible that you won’t gain skills to the same extent as someone who writes often.

Ethnography at gigs

The crunch point, though, is actually finding yourself in a gig situation and being faced with the notion of doing ethnography through the entire show. If shows you head out to are anything like the ones I get to see, then you’ll find you’re faced with two, sometimes three or four, support acts, plus one or two headlining acts. The entire night can go from 7 pm until 2 am, all (or at least some) of your mates are there, everyone’s drinking and having a good time. If you’re a smoker, it’s very possible that, like here in Australia, you’re faced with the fact that you have to go outside to have a cigarette – so you have to factor that in as well.

There is a lot to take account of, but you can’t necessarily afford to be selective in what you take notice of. You need to be like a never-ending sponge, and absorb absolutely everything you can. If you have to take some notes when you head to the toilet, that’s perfectly ok: if it helps you to recreate a show faithfully, and if it helps you to retain the textures of the night (especially if you’re drinking too!) then by all means do it. If you are reporting for the media, make sure that if you’re drinking you don’t have so much that everything gets fuzzy – because then you’ll be in strife when you confront your notes the next day. Trust me, I’ve been there and it’s not a good feeling.

Observations that you will need to be conscious of

So, what particularly do you notice when you head out to a show?

1. How you feel about the show, before you get there

One of the first things, especially if you’re seeing a band you particularly like, or haven’t seen before, or thought you would never get to see (which happens a lot in Australia!), is how you feel about it. Writing ethnography is not about writing yourself out of the picture and concentrating on what’s happening around you; remember, you are a participant in the event, so what your thoughts and feelings are count enormously towards what is going on.

2. Mistakes that you make

If you are late to the show, if you miss a band, if you fuck up and get the wrong venue or the wrong time: write it all in! There is nothing more refreshing than someone who writes honestly about their participation.

3. When you first get to the venue: inside and out

The second thing is actually getting to the venue. What’s the weather like (important if there are going to be people congregating outside!) Is there a line at the door? How many people are there? What are the staff like? And so on.

When you get inside the venue, you are confronted with a million things at once: the state of the bar and how busy it is; where the merch table is and what sort of merchandise is available, and how popular it is; what the beer’s like; what the crowd’s like; and so on. There are so many things here that you can take notice of – and to some extent you need to cover them all.

Things like, what’s the male-female ratio like? For some genres, like grindcore, there is likely to be more males than females; for metalcore it might be balanced; for black metal it might be just slightly more blokes. Things like this make a difference because it often affects the ways in which crowds behave. A full-on circle pit that takes up a good proportion of front-of-stage is less likely to happen if there are more females than males, for example.

4. Remember that you’re participating and that what you see/hear does count!

While you’re taking notice of all of these things, you are hearing what people are saying; you are participating in conversations; you are drinking and/or smoking; you are getting a sense of the vibe of the show. Which brings me to the next point: trust your instincts. If you get a bad feeling from the crowd, trust it! It’s likely you’ll be right, or at least that it will impact on some other element of the show.

5. Crowd reactions

When you actually get to seeing the bands take to the stage, you’ll notice how the crowd reacts – and this is vital. If the crowd are bored, if they talk over the band, if they watch two songs and go back to the bar; if they swear at the band or heckle them (and if the band doesn’t respond to the heckling); and so on. Watching the crowd can give you a very strong sense of the band’s performance.

Crowd reactions can be vital, especially if you find yourself at a show that you don’t like. It’s happened to me that I had to cover a show (there’s been more than one) of a genre I intensely dislike, of bands I’d prefer to burn than see live. Yet, watching the crowd can give you more material than just the music, and if you can write it fairly – and focus on the crowd and the ways in which the band(s) play – then you have something that even a fan would be proud to read.

6. Properties of the venue

While you’re watching the band/crowd reaction (and hopefully enjoying the set too!) try to move around inside the band room of the venue and get a sense of the sound and the mix. There are some venues in which the sound is only good at the mixing desk. There are some where the sound is not affected by movement; some can’t take low-end at all; some you can’t hear the percussion; some are plagued by problems (broken or ineffective mics, blown-out or crap speakers, etc.); some are great until whoever’s behind the desk decides to ‘fix’ things – usually resulting in making things worse.

Also, if it’s a huge show (like Carcass, for example), take note of the lighting, any video that may be running, any special effects, or anything like that.

7. Remember why everything is important

While all of these elements are properly outside the review of the bands they all contribute to the way in which the show runs, and to punter satisfaction with it. As a music journo that heads out to review gigs, you are not just someone absorbing the performance of the band. That is a big part of it, of course, but there is so much more going on than just the bands playing. 

A metal gig is a gathering of a small community – so covering a show is way more than just watching a band play. There are bigger interactions at stake, not least the fact that a band’s performance can be correlated with an audience’s response. It’s a two-way street.

Activities between now and the next instalment

See if you can get out to a few shows and take notice of what’s going on around you, on all levels. Make notes if you have to (sometimes it’s essential), and when you get home try to sit down straight away and write it all up creatively. Try to recreate the experience from what you noticed at the show.

When you’ve done that, put it away for a few days, and don’t think about it. After that time, pull it out and re-read it – what sort of reaction to you get to your own work?

The next instalment: Reviewing a band’s performance

The next part of this course will talk in a little bit of detail about some of the ways in which you can review a band’s performance. Stay tuned.

Past posts you might dig:

1. Music Journalism 101b. Ethnography.
2. Music Journalism 101 – free online course*
3. Music Journalism 101a. Introduction.

Welcome to Music Journalism 101. This online course is free to use for self-study under a Creative Commons license; however, you are not able to use it commercially, or remix it or adapt it in any way. It will be available commercially when it is complete, however; so, if you want to use it commercially (such as part of a training package), or if you want me to deliver elements of this course at workshops or for other purposes, please let me know.

Now that that official shit is out of the way, let me officially welcome you to the first part of this course. While everything within Music Journalism 101 will be applicable to all types of music, the focus here is on metal, because that is the genre that I work in, know best, and love.

To get the most out of this course, you need to approach it with sanity, a rational and logical brain, and an analytical perspective. You need to be prepared to read material that is well outside of metal, music and – occasionally – journalism as well, and to assess its application to what your eventual goal is. What is your goal? Being able to write insightful reviews and features, and to approach your task with professionalism. 

Some of this reading will come from essayists, anthropologists, and a variety of other fields. It will coach you in professional observational writing.

If you are a fan and are just looking to write fan-driven material, you’re in the wrong place. You’re far better off going and gushing elsewhere on your own blog, or in a fan forum. Nobody wants to read material driven by fan love when it’s supposed to be solid journalism and filled with professional integrity.

During this course, you will learn about researching and writing interview questions, conducting interviews over the phone and by email, reviewing releases, reviewing events, dealing with material that you don’t like but have to be fair with, learning how to deal with multiple releases all at once (essential for festival reviews and tight deadlines), and so on. Because it is metal, there will also be an element of genre identification in this, which is essential to anybody who hopes to write insightful material.

As the curriculum develops, this course will also develop a life of its own. I am still taking suggestions, so if you want to see something particular in this course, drop me a line, hit me up at MySpace, or leave a comment on this blog.

Past posts you might dig:

1. Music Journalism 101 – free online course*
2. On interviews and credibility 1: metal music journalism
3. The story of my journey into metal music journalism

This course is being posted progressively. Check back regularly for the latest additions.

101 A. Introduction.

101 B. Ethnography.

101 C. Ethnography at Gigs.

101 D. Reviewing a Band’s Performance.

101 E. Reviewing a New Release: stage one.

101 F. Reviewing a New Release: stage two.

*** NEW  101 G. Preparing for Interviews. (9 July 2009)

*Free in the sense you can use it, but please note that Music Journalism 101 by the author of this blog, Leticia Supple, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Australia License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5/au/.

Past posts you might dig:

1. On interviews and credibility 1: metal music journalism
2. On reviews and credibility: metal music journalism
3. The story of my journey into metal music journalism