Saturday, March 27, 2010

I am a Music Journalist, Not a Groupie

I am this close to giving up on music for good. Last night I was chilling with a really great band and their decent-enough manager and I left to check out another band downstairs.

I came back up, the guys who I had been talking to were off somewhere else, and someone in the entourage who has already been rude to me told me as soon as I sat down that I needed to go, that he and the other non-band members in the room wanted privacy. What was I supposed to do? Stand outside with the other girls hoping to catch a glimpse of the band as they came back in and sleep with them? I was there to GET A QUOTE. I am trying to sell an article on these people! And this dude who has nothing to do with them (or if he does, he's not doing his job right because he thinks I'm there to make out with them?!) unceremoniously kicked me out like I was going to stand in the hallway until they were done doing whatever it was they were doing. Until he DEIGNED to let me back in. Well screw that. I got my coat and split.

He said it really rudely. I skipped the afterparty that the band had invited me to and left without saying goodbye to the band or the manager because of this jerk.

And for a long time I thought this was just bunk, but now in music, I know it's true. This never, ever would have happened if I were a fat guy with a notepad instead of a girl in heels. I wasn't taken seriously for a minute. It really, really bummed me out, and I am really close to giving up on music, because this is the second time in as many months that I have been treated like a groupie instead of a journalist by PR people or band-handlers or DJs. And it really hurts my feelings, and it really hurts my articles and this kind of shit DOES NOT HAPPEN WHEN I WRITE ABOUT FOOD.

I hate music today, and maybe for a long time. Last night was a total bust and I went to the show without a friend in sight and left without a friend in sight and I really thought that I was okay with that, but some days, I don't think I'm okay at all.

I was just treated like a piece of meat. And it's starting to wear on me that I have to put on a happy face and act like it's okay, and that I have to bow down to have the opportunity to hang out with a band. They have the opportunity to talk to me! I'm the one writing about them. Sheesh. I have to tee hee and xo my way through yet another email thanking everyone for letting me even meet them. As if I'm going to finish the article now! As if I'm going to spend one more minute pitching them to magazines who don't really care. Why should I put my neck on the line for any of these people when they can't even be cordial? When they act like they are doing me a favor by letting me fawn over them and make them poetic?!

Makes me wish I'd written their manager something nasty. But then you know, I'd be the dumb bitch who couldn't handle it! It's really driving me crazy right now. Really, really crazy.


Broady said...

I'm not in the music scene, but I would send the manager a note telling him that you were axing the article because of some jackass denied you access and disrespected you to boot. If they are so self-important that they conclude that you "can't handle it," I'd be alright with that. Just find another band, write a glowing article and send the published copy to the band and manager with a sweet little personal note.

Yeah, I'm bad like that.

CM said...

I agree with above! Scrap until you get a couple of articles published that you can send ahead of your being there, then you won't need to XOXO to anyone!

Anonymous said...

I agree with the first comment - good idea.
Also, I'm sorry. That sounds very discouraging. I have sort of been there, down to the arriving/leaving without friends part which makes an experience like this exponentially worse. But you'll be fine :)

K said...

I have an awful update to this that I will expound upon in another post. I was a baby. I said something to the manager in probably the wrong forum because I was upset. And then it got blown so out of proportion and spread like wildfire and everyone that I ever worked with is disappointed in me that I was so immature to say something, which I get, but I mean, I was cryyyying and so tired of being treated that way. I am now apologizing to a multitude of people who think that I am a baby. Which I am.

Sigh. I hate, hate, hate being a girl sometimes.

Why can't you wonderful team leaders be with me daily instead of everyone else!

Thanks for the advice, licking my wounds today...and apologizing, apologizing, apologizing.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a nightmare-- sorry about it. This too shall pass, and nobody will remember the episode before too long, maybe it will just resurface when Rolling Stone writes an article on you after you become a rich and famous novelist.