I’ve been thinking lately that it seems there’s a new breed of rock star (not talking about shtick bands anymore) for whom the idea that a journalist’s agenda is anything other than to write fawning publicity pieces is inconceivable. (Do I need to make that sentence less doubly negative? I don’t not need to.) Why is this? Are they cutting their teeth on fanzines? Which is not to say that I’m trying to rip anyone a new one or even be unduly harsh because I think I’m a pretty gentle writer especially compared to some music critics who give off the impression that they delight in verbal evisceration but just that my job is not to patch the dings in some inked neophyte’s public image and that my allegiance is to the truth and reality first and foremost. And I realize how frigging grandiose that sounds and at the end of the day it’s all fluff anyway but journalism and truth are supposed to be pretty closely affiliated and it’d be a shame, and kind of dangerous really, to forfeit such a beautifully lofty goal.
That said, off the record is off the record and my allegiance to human decency probably guides me, as a reporter, more than the aforementioned ideal.
This is screedy! And pretentious!