originally written by Craig Hayes
This is the final installment in a five-part series. In Mainstreaming Metal, LR scribe Craig Hayes looks back on his experiences as a beacon for underground heavy metal within the confines of a mainstream-centric publication.
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In the last part of Mainstreaming Metal, I pointed out that there’s no need to be concerned about a scourge of hipsters and posers, or any touristy writers, covering metal in the mainstream. Metal’s hot topic appeal will wane, and all the parasites hanging on will wither away. And I think, if we really want to concern ourselves with anything in the metal media, it should be upping the diversity of voices being heard, rather than worrying if someone’s glasses frames are too big.
“Hipster” and “poser” are fairly lightweight insults to throw at a writer in the mainstream anyway, and they don’t really cut to the quick like being called a sellout.
Of course, what constitutes selling out in today’s www.everything-is-up-for-grabs world is obviously debatable. Plenty of basement labels and bands advertise and promote themselves on every media forum imaginable, and many supposedly uber-underground, DIY bruisers have no problem signing up for a sophisticated, multi-platformed, multi-pronged PR campaign.
The line between selling out or simply selling your wares is more blurred than in the past. However, regardless of the fact that technology has reshaped what was a more distinct dividing line for bands in days of yore, many metal fans still see anyone writing about metal in the mainstream as having crossed a border, selling out by default.
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DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS
To my mind, selling out implies that you’ve sold out the scene and your integrity for a handful of silver, and with that comes the charge that by turning up in the mainstream you might also be seen as selling secrets to the enemy.
That’s an interesting accusation to throw at a writer in this day and age, because there are no secrets left to sell. Sure, some of the bands I wrote about in the mainstream might not have been mentioned there before, but the underground is open to anyone with access to the internet 24/7. That’s clearly reconfigured the underground from being a concealed encampment to something that operates on a shared set of ideals these days–at least in its online form–and because of that, it’s difficult to see where selling out the scene plays a role when writing about any underground band.
Even if a band wants to remain hidden deep underground, we’re all shouting about them online every single day. I certainly never had any band, however underground, take issue with me choosing to compliment their creativity in the mainstream; even if it was an entirely different domain than they were expecting to see their work featured in. That said, a few fans took exception to me writing about the bands they enjoyed in the mainstream, but I kind of admired that, because you’d hope we’ve all got a deep emotional investment in the music and spirit of the bands we love.
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A HEARTY DOSE OF GUILT
If it is some form of selling out to write about metal it in the mainstream, then there’s a long line of guilty parties. Metal’s been covered in the mainstream since day one, but these days, writers cross the frontier between the metal and mainstream media all the time. So, while it’s understandable to protest that some traitor has kicked a hole in metal’s stockade, at the very least, many of those writers do endeavour to portray metal more accurately than it has been in the past, and many are there to advance metal’s artistic value, benefits, and merits.
It’s those opportunities that drew me and plenty of other writers to write about metal for the mainstream. I just wanted to put a few decades of listening to metal to good use. But I’d be lying if I also said I was 100% comfortable writing in the mainstream all the time.
The mainstream media may have moved on from treating metal as a second-class citizen, but I still had an ember of guilt burning in my guts about collaborating with the enemy all the same. That clearly comes from being old enough to have traded tapes and hunted down and scoured ‘zines, and given I’m a fan of crusty metal, that guilt is hammered home everyday.
I’d say, if you’re writing about metal in the mainstream, and you’ve never felt a twinge of self-reproach, then you’re really not appreciating how metal’s been treated by the mainstream media over the years. I’d go further too, and say if you immediately go on the defensive and don’t make an attempt to acknowledge or understand folks’ concerns about mainstream metal coverage, then you’re not in tune with metal’s history or its philosophical importance.
I’m definitely not saying you shouldn’t write about metal in the mainstream, or that you should agree with folks complaining about mainstream metal coverage, but I’d contend that an element of guilt, or at least a sense of mindfulness about what you’re doing, serves a really good purpose. It’s a reminder to never trust the mainstream (and I mean that in a general, eyes-wide-open to the reality sense, not in a darkly conspiratorial manner), and if that drives you to provide more reliable and representative reporting while you’re there, then all the better.
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MOTIVATIONS
I think, in this ear-and-eye-bashing epoch of metal coverage, concerns about selling out aren’t really about divulging hitherto hidden secrets of the underground anymore. You only need look to the commentary grenades hurled at writers personally to see that there are far more concerns, and a genuine wariness, about writers motivations for covering metal in the mainstream.
Are some writers busily scribbling about metal in the mainstream seeking fame, fortune, and Wikipedia footnote mentions? Well sure, of course they are. But then, that’s often confused with writers with strong personalities simply drawing fire for sticking their heads above the parapet. It’s not compulsory to read them, of course, so feel free to look away, but how do we judge anyone’s true motivations anyway?
As music writers, we’re all a little narcissistic. We want people to read our opinions about someone else’s artistic endeavours, even if we’re just updating our own small blogs. So, if having ambitions is a crime, we’re all, more or less, guilty of that.
There’s plenty of other motivations that exist for writing in the mainstream that having nothing to do with wanting to turn up on Metacritic’s roll call. The mainstream provides a big stage from which to preach to the unconverted. So why not acknowledge the creativity of underground bands you feel deserve some wider exposure if you’ve got a spot on the stage? (Even if, like me, you were at the back of the choir.)
There’s also the fact that your potential audience is large–potential being the operative word. Mine obviously wasn’t, but there’s nothing mercenary about wanting to throw your ideas at a larger group of people, and if that gets you a gig writing for someone who pays a cent or two, so what? The metal media world isn’t handing out cash to writers, but there’s nothing shameful in actually wanting to get paid for your time, energy, and words.
Of course, whatever mainstream writers motivations are, they’re also completely aware that some metal fans take a very dim view of their activities. So, you might be wondering: what exactly is the glorious payoff for selling out and writing about metal in the mainstream?
I’m wondering that too.
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THE POT OF GOLD
My mailbox never filled up with LPs, CDs or DVDs. I was never buttered up, brought drinks, or had my name placed on every list for shows coming through town. That’s clearly is a reality for some metal writers, mainstream or not, but keep in mind, there are tiers to the mainstream press. There are tiers to the metal press, too.
It’s a numbers game, and I was certainly no hit-rate hero. Labels and PR companies decide who gets what, and more importantly, when they get it, and I was never granted any special treatment because I was a columnist and contributing editor in the mainstream press. I got in line for digital promos, same as everyone else, and I was really grateful to be able to do that.
Like the majority of metal writers, I’ve also never glimpsed any pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; in fact, I’ve earned exactly $16.00 for the last four years of writing, and that’s after writing hundreds of thousands of words. It’s a fools errand if you’re looking for any loot or in the metal writing game, and for me, and many others, the prime motivation really is as simple as wanting to write about the music you enjoy.
That said, I can still appreciate why a sellout charge would be laid, especially if the site you’re writing for is pseudo-publicity machine, churning out grovelling tripe and endless hype. Of course, that’s not something unique to the mainstream at all. If we want to have a serious discussion about, ahem, ethical matters, then how about the slew of metal bloggers doing little more than reposting PR memorandums while requesting swag from labels and bands in exchange for fawning 100 word posts?
Also, let’s not forget that labels, PR companies, and bands themselves are often entirely complicit in being covered in the mainstream. They send you promos knowing full well where you write, and they want maximum coverage for their wares because (spoiler alert, again) they’re in the business of selling records.
Does that then smear a label’s name for carefully choosing who’s going to stream tracks or premiere their releases in the mainstream? Are they sullying themselves or selling out? Of course not. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Someone buys an album! Well, if you read about any band in any forum and actually paid for their album, then 666 hails to you.
If you care about DIY underground ethical ideals, then you’ll still have your own personal ideas of what selling out might look like today, even if the dimensions of old have been altered by technological advancements. To my mind, selling out isn’t about where you write, but how you write. If you’re clearly exchanging glowing reviews for swag (no matter how ‘unspoken’ that arrangement may be) then you’ve got questions to answer. Still, just because I’ve never sold my words for swag or divulged any secrets per se, that doesn’t free me from being labelled a sellout for writing in the mainstream media at all.
If you’re convinced metal should remain exclusive to the kvlt kard karrying krew, then there’s really no defense to the charge of selling out. Take one step outside the clubhouse, and you’re damned.
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SEE YOU AROUND…I HOPE
In the end, every single concern (or explanation) I’ve mentioned in this Mainstreaming Metal series is all a matter of perspective, bound to my 30 years of metal fandom and my experiences of writing about metal in the mainstream and specialist metal media. There are clearly sound and more eloquent counter-arguments to be made for every point I’ve raised here. But, ultimately, it all comes down to where you personally see metal sitting in the pantheon of entertainment today.
Does, for example, a word like “entertainment” stick in the craw when thinking about metal? Is metal too personal, too instinctual, too fucking raw to ever be represented on a large and shiny mainstream stage? I’d argue that whether you see the mainstream as a fitting home for metal coverage or not, it’s metal’s enduring magnetism–and the passion it fires in people to write about its continuing appeal and creative distinctions–that stands out in the end.
The mainstream’s interest in metal clearly changes in intensity as the tide of metal’s popular appeal shifts, as do ideas about how important it is for metal to remain underground. Ultimately, all I did was write about the music that’s dominated and decimated my ears, mind, body, and soul for more than three decades. I can’t apologize for that.
Did I let my comrades-in-arms down for writing about metal in the mainstream? You know, aside from that nub of guilt that’s hopefully always going to burn, I sleep okay at night.
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