Indiecast - 'Almost Famous' Turns 20

Episode Date: September 11, 2020

On the new episode of 'Indiecast,' Steven Hyden and Ian Cohen reflect on twenty years of Cameron Crowe's 'Almost Famous,' using their background as real-life music critics to examine the accuracy of the central plot (there is literally no way that a publicist would let you spend several weeks on the road with a band for a profile), the depiction of Lester Bangs, and whether Stillwater is actually even a good band at all. Check out Hyden's full essay about the film here. In this week's Recommendation Corner, Steven is spreading the good word about William Tyler's new album 'New Vanitas,' while Ian is pointing toward 'I'll Figure This Out,' the latest from Milwaukee's Barely Civil. Sign up for the Indie Mixtape newsletter: uproxx.com/indieSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Indycast is presented by Uprox's Indie Mix tape. Hello, everyone, and welcome to Indycast. On this show, we talked about the biggest indie news of the week. We review albums, and we hash out trends. In this episode, we're going to be looking at an iconic movie about music writers, probably the only iconic movie about music writers, at least that I can remember, which is almost famous. The movie turns 20 this weekend.

And we're going to talk about the movie, and we're also going to talk about where music criticism is at in 2020. I am joined as always by my friend and co-host Ian Cohen. Ian, how are you? You know, after what was probably like our most combative and divisive episode, like I'm really happy that we're coming back with a subject we can both agree upon. I thought it was going to be like a part one of three of us clowning on the new Bruce Springsteen album cover. But, you know, almost famous will do as well. I mean, look, man, you got, I got to admire.

Bruce, like, not using the symbolism of, like, actually announcing a new album on 9-11, because, like, this whole COVID thing, I'm wondering, like, when is you two or when is, like, Bruce Springsteen going to write their COVID album that gets, like, the five-and-a-half star review from Rolling Stone? For our younger listeners, Bruce Springsteen released an album called The Rising, which helped our nation heal after 9-11. And I just want to point out, like, this guy I follow called Keith Harris. He writes

and he's based out of Minneapolis now but he wrote this review for Village Voice in 2002 about The Rising where the last line is if 9-11 didn't happen Bruce Springsteen would have to invent it now I bring that up because Oh man. That is over the line

Yeah like one of the most That's like too harsh. One of the most raw kickers I've ever heard but also indicative of like the kind of stuff you could do at the village voice in 2002, which I, which I, which leaves me to segue like into this movie because like a lot of it, it comes down to like looking at what was okay 20 years ago to write about. And then what was okay to be writing about in 1975 and how it compares to now. So all of it, it all comes full circle. I see, I have to pause this episode so I can go on Twitter and, uh, yell at Keith Harris

for writing that because I think that's what would have happened. If Twitter would have existed in 2002, just like the abuse that probably would have engendered. I think that has really changed a lot. He posted it the other day. So, like, he's aware. But, like, and, you know, I think it's very much indicative of, like, the sort of thing that was happening at the time that almost famous was being released.

So because, yeah, people look back on the 70s, like, the good old. And to someone in 2020, like 2000 was real wild west times. Well, it's true. I mean, you know, we are almost to the point where the year 2000 is as far away from us as 1973 was in the year that almost famous came out. I guess that was 27 years. We're now 20 years away from this movie. Yeah, it really does seem like a pretty big gap.

And, you know, I'm just happy that on this show we can finally talk about music criticism. because if there's one thing that music critics like to talk about more than music, it's music criticism. We love to be analytical about our own field. Hopefully this would be interesting. We are dying out there with no pitchfork festival. Like that was the one time we could all get together and just like realize, hey, I actually like this person who I argue with on Twitter.

And now without that, it's just a complete war zone. Yeah, Pitchfork Fest really is a great metaphor for music criticism because you're surrounded by music and yet critics are talking to each other about music criticism. Well, instead of listening to music, you know, I mean, I feel like that's like a great metaphor for what music criticism is in a lot of ways. But let's quickly, I guess, talk about Almost Famous itself before we kind of do the broader conversation about music criticism. I feel like the people listening to the show have at least heard of Almost Famous, if not seen it like more than once, but on the off chance that you don't know what this movie is, it came out, as we

said in the year 2000. It's based on the experiences of writer-director Cameron Crow. You may know him from films such as Say Anything and Jerry McGuire. He made a really bad movie called Elizabeth Town and some other not very good movies. But anyway, almost famous was his passion project. And it's about his experiences in the 1970s as a young rock writer. for Rolling Stone. And when I say young, I mean, he was actually a teenager when he started writing for them. And he ended up writing about like most of the biggest acts of the 1970s. He was the guy who was writing about Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, Joni Mitchell.

And it's interesting because, you know, I read this, this great book that came out many years ago. It's called Rolling Stone Magazine, The Uncensored History, which is like a very famously dishy book. Sticky fingers? Oh, no, not that one. That's a different one. No, that's the Joe Hagan book that came out a couple years ago. This book came out, I think, in the 90s. But it was like the first book that really kind of dug into the gossipy background of Rolling Stone.

And there's like some things in there about Cameron Crow, some unnamed sources like trashing him a little bit, basically saying that he was this guy that rock stars would demand right about them because he was known to be. sort of like a fan journalist basically, that he would write very positive articles about acts that had been previously slammed by Rolling Stone, including Led Zeppelin and the Eagles. What I think is interesting about him is that, like, you know, he was basically brought,

part of the appeal of him for the editors was that he did like those 70s bands and, like, the older sort of OG writers, like, didn't like the 70s people. I guess like Grail Marcus or somebody. And I was just trying to think of like modern examples of that. Like has like pitchfork or spin or anyone, did they ever like employ like a 14 year old rock writer or music writer

that could cover like, you know, young stuff because like the older people didn't like it? I think Sam Uble. I think that's kind of cool actually. I think Sam Uble back in like the mid-2000s for pitchfork was like 16 or 18 or Andrew Unterberger when he wrote for stylist. But in no way, shape, or form where they brought in. to write positive reviews about, I don't know who the equivalent of Stillwater

would have been in 2005, like the bravery, I don't know. Right, yeah, exactly. Like, we got to bring in a middle schooler to write a positive review of, you know, the fallout boy or something, you know,

like something that like our older writers wouldn't understand. You got a 45-year-old to do that today. Exactly. I mean, I kind of like that idea because I always think, you know, like when you see like middle-old writers, like write about, like, aggressively young acts, even if they're, like, well-versed in it, it's always, like, the optics of it are always a little awkward.

As a middle-aged music writer myself, I'm always self-conscious of that. Because even if, like, again, your knowledge is there and you have a sincere affection for it, I just wonder, like, do kids really want to see, like, a middle-aged dude talk about this? Like, don't they want someone, like, from their own peer group? I don't know. It's always a little weird. But anyway, Almost Famous was not a box office hit.

I think it made around $50 million. And this amazed me when I looked at it. Yeah, I'm amazed too. Almost Famous cost, it costs $60 million to make. And I made a joke about this. I wrote a piece about Almost Famous for Uprocks this week. I made a joke about it. And I don't even think it's a joke.

I think it's true that if you added up all the money that's ever been paid to music writers for every music review ever written, like do you even get close to 16? million dollars. I don't think you get close to six million dollars. It's like, but it's amazing to me that like a major studio which was DreamWorks would pay that much money for a movie about a music writer. Can you imagine

that now? Like that just blows my mind. That would never happen now. Ready reboot. Well yeah, maybe like you know, Bruce Wayne's parents are murdered and then he goes to work for you know, consequence of sound. You know, like that's like

the new Batman movie. That would be the only way they could do that now. But, you know, obviously it's become a cult favorite. Since then, it's become pretty entrenched in the culture. I feel like for music writers, the thing that we remember most is Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lester Bangs. Because I feel like his version of Lester Bangs is the most famous music critic ever. Like when people think about Lester Bangs now,

I think they're picturing Phillips Seymour Hoffman more than the actual person. And because there's things that he says in this movie, uh, that like Lester Bangs did not say. Like Lester Bangs never said, what's that line? The only currency in this bankrupt world is what two people share when they're uncool. Lester Banks never said that. But like I've seen online that that's attributed to Lester Banks as a quote, you know. Uh, but anyway, I want to ask you this. I feel like among music writers, this is just anecdotally speaking, I feel like music writers tend to look down on this movie.

I feel like it's sort of like, you know, like we want a clown on it. I guess for many reasons, it's so, I guess, far removed from any of our experiences. Top Gun of like for music critics or something like that. Yeah, yeah. It totally, yeah, like how Top Gun glamorizes, you know, being in the military. Yeah. Like this glamorizes being a. music critic beyond sort of all realism.

Yeah. I mean, I think when I got to see this like last year, like I got, real music critic talk, I got the jump on the almost famous anniversary. You know, there's only so many times where, you know, San Diego is the cultural center of America, like I would say when POD satellite came out. Like this year when the Padres have a very exciting baseball team that no one can see. And last year, so if 2020 was normal, there would be a Broadway production of almost famous happening right now. I got to see the preview of it. They had a test run at San Diego's

Old Globe Theater. And one of the things I forgot about the movie is that Cameron Crow, like slash William Miller, grows up in San Diego. Apparently Lester Bangs, his parents are there. And I think that kind of unintentionally drives home how kind of uncool the both of them are supposed to be because, you know, San Diego in 1973, not much was happening there. But I think what this movie did is, like you said, it kind of took the uncoolness, like the intrinsic uncoolness of almost famous. Like, what's the most famous line? I dig music or what do you love about, tell me what you love about music. Everything. And then it fades. Like, you know, you can't imagine like a writer nor a musician talking that way.

And it glamorizes a period of time, which for many, many reasons, has come under incredible scrutiny. I mean, you want to talk about what parts of this movie have aged the worst by nature of being seen in 2019. I mean, first off, like, the basis in the movie is Mark Kozalik.

That's going to be hard for... But he gets, you know, he barely talks at all, but he gets like my opinion the best line of the movie where they're like all arguing backstage and he says like in a in the very sun kill moon voice can we just go get barbecue or something and it's to me it's just like the greatest line reading of the movie um beyond that it says that but then there's also there's the other cosmic scenes i i rewatch uh i watched the bootleg cut of almost this weekend the hunt the like the two it's like two hours and 40 minutes oh god um And I actually, I was like, I'm going to keep watching this until I get bored and I'll shut it off.

And like, I watched the whole thing. I watched it. I was up to like 2.30 in the morning. So that's how much, you know, and I'll just say like, I still like this movie. You know, we're going to make fun of this movie a little bit, but I still like it. But anyway, there's that scene that Coslow, like, they're on the tour bus and they go by this like line of high school girls who are jogging. And like, Kozlik gets like really excited and starts like ogling the girls. And I was like, oh, Jesus Christ.

Yeah, that's... That, to me, like, is what age the worst. Yeah. It's like, oh, man, Kozik. Yeah. You've got to, like, airbrush him out. Yeah, I think there's that. And I think also the musical version kind of airbrushes out, like, the very...

It's a surprisingly not dark and debauchous movie for about, like, rock in the 70s. Like, were to believe that William Miller, aka Cameron Crow, loses virginity and, like, kind of a faux groupie orgy as well. Like that gets kind of downplayed in the musical. Also like the drug overdose, like that happens off screen. And, you know, she's all right, like two minutes later. And yeah, I think also when we look at Stillwater itself, one of the questions I think is worth litigating is,

are Stillwater like a shitty band? Like, are they supposed, like, how good are they at being Stillwater? I think they're supposed to be like kind of a mediocre band. I feel like Cameron Crowe has talked about how, because he wrote those songs with Nancy Wilson from Hart, who was his wife at the time. And I think the idea was that like Stillwater, like they weren't going to be Led Zepple

and they weren't going to be the Allman Brothers. They were going to be more like bad company or, you know. Yeah, I'll tell you what, man. Grand Funk Railroad or something. Those songs are nowhere, an American band. I mean, like we got a show. Show some goddamn respect to bad company in Grant Funk, okay? That's true.

I guess I was just trying to think of like mid-level 70s bands. Yeah. Yeah, again, I think the idea is like they're okay, but they're not great. Yeah. Like the songs are ridiculous. Like one of my favorite sub-genres is like when you see a television show or like a movie with like a band. And I don't think the bands or the writers is aware of how bad they are. and I don't think the writers are aware of how bad they are as well.

I don't think that's the case here. I just think of Californication specifically, which is like the single worst writer in television history. But I digress. That just came on my mind. It's 2000, man. Californication was playing nonstop. Right.

So, I mean, I was thinking about, you know, we were saying this before, about how we are now close to as far away from being from 2000. as 2001's from 1973. And I think you made a good point earlier talking about how, you know, I think at 2000 people were looking at the 70s as being like the good old days. Like if you were a music critic, like, oh, how cool would it have been

to be on a bus with a band for, you know, several weeks? Which even by then, I think, was a pretty far-fetched thing. I mean, maybe if you worked for Rolling Stone or like a top music magazine, you could get that kind of access. But probably not even like that amount of access. but I was thinking like if we made a movie or someone made a movie about music writing in the year 2000. Like William Miller would be, I guess, an early blogger or like on a poster like on a message board or something. I mean, kind of pivoting to I guess our larger conversation here about music writing, I'm curious about your experiences with that because like I feel like that's the common experience for writers of our generation.

I feel like most people came up as a blogger or, you know, they started on a message board and they met people and that's how they kind of got into the business. And like that wasn't my experience. Like I had a very 20th century beginning to my career. Like I started at a daily newspaper, you know, and I covered tractor poles and strawberry festivals. And then I would write music pieces on the side. Like sometimes they would let me interview like James McNew of Yola Tango because they were playing two hours away. They gave you the basest, man. I was like on the lowest wrong.

They big lead you out of that. They big lead you by, yeah, you can talk to James McNeu. I'm talking to the third most famous guy in Yola Tango, who like, and as soon as I got on the, I remember that interview. It was for Summer's Son, like, their 2003 record. So it was like one of the, so it was like a lesser Yola Tango record. Yeah. But I could tell, like, immediately that he was not thrilled to be talking with like a 24-year-old kid from like a bumble fuck paper in Wisconsin.

But, but anyway, like, because I feel like that, that world, that blogging world is, you know, pretty much gone now. I mean, that, that's, I guess, what people from our generation would be wistful for. I mean, are you wistful for that? Like, what are your memories of that? And how do you look back on that? Yeah, I mean, I think it's funny. You say, like, the blogging world has, you know, kind of disintegrated.

And you're talking about your experience in. and all weekly, which I mean, all, like, both of those are gone. But as far as like my, look, I talk about, you ever hear like old heads, like talk about, like, what, you know, rap was like in 1988 when, you know, you have like, like, Big Daddy Kane and KRS1 and Public Enemy, like all doing their thing and, uh, or like 1969 or whatever, like any big, like any big bang for some sort of genre. And like, that's me thinking about 2005 blogging. Like, I, like, I got so excited during that, like, span of time where people, like,

started to go to Substack or Patreon again, because to me that, like, those early blogging days were just so beautiful in ways that, like, look, it was kind of a boys club where it was just, like, me and a bunch of guys who love, you know, dipset and college football, uh, commenting on our own post. It was very much insular. And also, I just missed the self. the lack of self-consciousness about it where you could write, you know, like you were covering tractor pulls and whatnot. Like I was writing about like Virginia football and hot pockets and sometimes

about like the new Death Cab album. And I could just throw 5,000 words on a page and, you know, people would like it and you didn't have as many eyes on you. But it still meant something. Like I think that is what people like miss about, you know, 2004, 2005 is. that you could, there, there wasn't as many eyes on you and you could kind of say or whatever you want, but it would still have impact. Like, this was right before I think Pitchfork started paying people to write for them. So you still had that kind of spirit of blogging. But it was still influential. Like what people said on blogs, you know, and you can talk about like Ruella versus bear as well or early stereo gum. Yeah, it was less corporate.

but there was still like room to maneuver. And I think some version of that is happening now. I don't know what it is because I'm not 23 or 24 years old. But, you know, it remains like this will be, 2020 will be someone's golden age, you know. Yeah, I mean, yeah, I was just going to say like, I think what you said was really interesting about not having like a lot of eyeballs on you. Because I think that was true. And that was definitely true for me, too. and I think that was what was really great about how the media was then,

where if you were young and you were writing for an obscure outlet, which was what I was doing, like no one cared what I was writing. So I was like writing like all this, I was doing all this shitty writing that really no one was reading, but I was like getting my reps in. Like I was learning how to do stuff. And it wasn't like,

I feel like that changed even like by the 2010s like where, and I don't see this as much anymore, but there was this, really bad practice of, you know, someone from like an alt-weekly would write, like, you know, sort of like a mildly disparaging column about like Avril Levine or something. Like he would say, oh, like, this isn't real music. Like, it's too poppy. And then, like, every music writer would, like, share it on Twitter and just, like,

rip this to shreds. And I'm like, man, I wrote so many things like that. You know, getting started. And, like, no one cared. And I was like, I got to learn. I mean, the difference with me was that I'm, you know, I'm. wasn't influential. Like I was ignored and also uninfluential. So like that was, but that was a good thing. So what? Like you're saying that people don't share, look at this dumb ass on Twitter and then just clown that

person. Oh yeah, that's definitely shaking. But I think you're- Well, I feel like, I think there's more punching up now. I feel like people do that with like a New York Times piece. Oh, absolutely. They won't necessarily like clown like an obscure person. Oh yeah. Or maybe I'm just following, I'm not following as many mean people anymore maybe. I don't know. But I don't, I feel like, I don't see that as much anymore as I did back then. Yeah, I think, I remember one thing like Death Cat for Cutty talked about in Greg Cod's book Ripped was that the thing that allowed them to be the band that they eventually became is that they, you know, in Ben Gibbard's words, to paraphrase, like, they could suck in private

at the beginning, you know, like they were allowed to get their reps in and, you know, but maybe, like, look, I've seen a lot of guys these days who, you know, who have gotten just absolutely torn to shreds for something they wrote and their career carries on you know like the the good the nice thing you know if you want to call it a nice thing is that for even if people aren't um aren't subject to like you know getting their reps in in private the memory is a lot shorter you know people sometimes ask me like you know what's it like to have quote your day on twitter when you're the one just getting torn apart and i'm like yeah it sucks for a day but then someone else is getting

someone else is getting shit on like two days later so just like hang on man don't give up right well it's good to be in the barrel sometimes I really believe in I believe that I think that if you're not in the barrel that means that you're not really writing stuff that is provoking people you know I think sometimes

it's like I know I've had instances like where I've written things and it gets ripped of shreds and I go yeah I wish I hadn't said that but but it was only because I was trying to I was pushing you know I was trying to be interesting. And sometimes it's like being a comedian on stage.

Sometimes you push it too far and the audience reacts against you. But what's interesting talking about like this world and again, you know, like the blogger world or even being like if you're working in all weeklies at the time in comparison to like what happens in almost famous. I almost wonder like was there a thing you think in our early days where it was almost like reacting against access journalism? Oh God, yes. Because I feel like, you know, because like for us, I feel like we didn't have access at all.

That was the best part about it. It would have freed us up. Exactly. Like you could be freed up. Because I think, you know, you look at almost famous and there is something envious about like, wow. Like imagine if you could write a profile of somebody if you were actually like living with them for, you know, a couple weeks. But that actually makes your job harder in a lot of ways because if you become friends with somebody, you don't want to write critical things about them. But if you don't know them and you're just on the outside.

it just frees you up to be to be honest yeah i mean i think that um the the the access problem like what we saw in uh 2005 like now look i mean there is a lot of great journalism that can occur uh with access um you know just being like you need resources you need uh the ability to send someone out there to do real in-depth stuff but when it comes to like criticism i think the less access is better. And I think there was a period, particularly almost right after almost famous came out, where, you know, like the aforementioned Village Voice article or, you know, the, you know, the Jet Shine On Review era pitchfork or, you know, stereo gum, Gorilla versus Barrow, all those places, was that it created an alternative to this kind of access journalism. Because, I mean, in 2000, was that the year that Mick Jaggers got us in the doorway, got five stars?

It's around then. Yeah. So in a way, like that form of access journalism was, I mean, it became like abundantly clear. And like when we talk about kid A, I, like, in a few weeks, I think that will also show like what happened, like how this idea of what like access journal in 2000 was like in no way prepared to move on to the future where people needed to form information, like form opinions much more quickly. and it can be changed on message boards and whatnot. But, I mean, to this day, you know, access can, like, I'm looking over my shoulder a lot. Because, I mean, even 2009 when I was writing the vast majority of, like, you know, my pan reviews, it was like, the worst you could get was, like, I don't know, some dude, some drunk college kid at like 2 a.m. talking about, like, you know, how I live with my parents and whatever.

And nowadays, it's like, you, like, you have, there are a lot more eyes on. you it's like well wait i'm if i'm not like you know friendly with this musician i'm friendly with people who work with them or people who've toured with them and is this really worth the a hundred or so dollars or even let or like is this worth like not the nothing it costs a tweet to talk about this and you know the answer is more often than not is no you know i can't be what's that line like merciless and what what's lester bangs's line about like what you need to be he says honest and unmerciful honest and unmerciful honest and unmerciful Yeah, it is much harder to do that, or it's just not worth it to me.

Yeah, I mean, I think it's funny because I think when we started, there was almost this like valley between the 70s and now where it seemed like in the 70s people, if you worked for Rolling Stone, especially, they were very aware of what artists were thinking. And like, if you slam somebody that was popular, that that could hurt your, you. your brand in the long run. It seemed like that was something that they were already negotiating in 1973. And I think that's very also much the case now

where so many music publications, it feels like they're in this precarious state where a lot of musicians now it feels like they don't really need the media. They can talk to people directly. You're seeing this thing more and more where musicians who are, you know, like the huge pop stars,

they will only talk to other pop stars now. Like if they're going to do like the Vanity Fair story or something, it's like, you know, uh, Beyonce's only going to talk to, you know, salange or something. You know, like, you're only going to get like, or like, Jack Antonoff will interview Lana Del Rey or like, you know, why not? Yeah. Oh, yeah, exactly. Like, why would you cast your lot with, you know, like with Stillwater, like, they made us

look like idiots or whatever, you know, uh, whatever they say. Right. Like, if you were a musician, that, who had to. that leverage, why would you cast your lot with like a 23 or 25 year old like kid, you know? Exactly. Especially when the incentive to write something spicy about an artist to get some heat for yourself is like so great. Yeah.

You know, writing the bland piece is not going to get a lot of attention. But if you can get some, if you can write like really well and sort of colorfully about a famous person, that that's usually how you get some heat on you. but did you see that Lana Del Rey piece by the way that Jack onset it was for interview magazine I've actually not like and that's not that's not a crack against either artists involved like I just straight up have not seen it I just had to laugh at that piece because she she described herself as an underdog in that piece and it just reminds me of and she says I'm an underdog she feels like you know people aren't gonna basically saying like I I still don't get any any respect she must have listened to the last

episode of Indycast, so shout out to you, Lana Del Rey. Well, it's like, it just reminds me of like how, and I don't think they're doing this anymore, but like for a long time, like I would see like the New York Times refer to like Taylor Swift as an underdog. Like even like during her 1989 period, they were calling her an underdog. And it's just like, at what point does, do these people get looked at as like the overdog? Well, it's like Lana Del Rey is. is like, you know, she's a huge pop star.

She is maybe the most critically acclaimed singer-songwriter on the planet right now. I mean, I can't think of anyone who got better reviews. She's, yeah, Fiona Apple. Oh, no. Okay, 29. Oh, Fiona Apple. Okay, yeah. She's at least among the most critically acclaimed.

Yeah, top five that are alive. Well, maybe not that. Yeah. But anyway, yeah, I mean, it's true that, like, I think now, you know that the artist, like if you write anything critical about an artist, you can be pretty sure that they're going to see it. Oh, absolutely.

You know, and they may even, like, react to it publicly. But yeah, like, also the fans out there, they see it, and they're going to screen cap stuff and take it out of context, and they're going to, like, just, just deluse you with, like, negativity. If you write the wrong thing, I wonder, like, how Lester Bangs would have reacted in the social media era, like,

where, yeah, there's so much response. You get so much feedback. Yeah. And you have so much of it coming at you and like a lot of it being hostile. I don't know. I think a lot of people may see themselves as like the Lester Bangs of the current day. And I don't know. I don't know.

Like, I don't know if like this current environment is really like conducive to having that style of person. And maybe it's for the best. I mean, you look at, I think one of the things that stands out to me when I look at almost famous in retrospect is that as much as Cameron Crowe, like obviously admires Lester Bangs and he's seen as this larger life character, you kind of see that he is indeed very full of shit. Because, you know, like he talks about like how, you know, it's the uncool who makes the art that matters and like ugly people like in his words like are going to like other people who make art that last. And, like, Lester Bangs is, like, feverishly praising the likes of, like, Iggy Pop and Lou Reed, who are, like, the coolest people on Earth. Like, and he thinks that Stillwater is, like, the prefab cool. And also, like, Lester Bangs was more than happy to cozy up to musicians when he was trying to start bands and whatnot.

So I think it's, I don't think that I don't need, like, historical accuracy. necessary from all is famous but um yeah i think that like with anyone who fancies themselves is like kind of the gonzo like truth teller of any time like that person is kind of full of shit in some very yeah i and occasionally you see that uh archetype come up there'll be some it's usually a guy yeah who like you know fancies themselves like that you know that they want to do the gonzow thing they do the jaded truth teller routine. You know, like, and you just, it's usually on Twitter.

I just imagine, like, them tweeting with, like, a cigarette dangling from their mouth, some aviator shades on, and just dropping some truth bombs about the music business man. Yeah, I don't know. Industry plants, man. Yeah, exactly. Looking ahead, I mean,

how do you feel about the future of music writing? I feel like this is something that people in our field speculate on all the time. I see a lot of doom and gloom typically about it. And with good reason, I mean, this year,

I mean, a lot of great writers have lost their jobs in the pandemic economy. Even in non-pandemic economies, like music publications have always kind of towed the line of like insolvency. You know, like being on the brink of being shut down and many have been shut down. But I don't know.

It's weird because I also. feel like if you read music writing from like the 70s, a lot of it is like really bad. Oh, it's awful. Writing is bad. The perspectives are bad. It's a pretty sort of like monochromatic like white guy perspective. And I say that as a white guy, you know, person. But like I know like I was looking at, I think it was like the, like Rolling Stone. They did their 100 greatest albums of like the first 20 years of the magazine from 67 to 87. And I looked at, and there was like 16 people that wrote for that. And there were, I don't think there was any women.

Or there might have been one woman, like out of 16 writers. Oh, okay. And like, and there were almost like no women on the list. I mean, it was very much like a one-to-one type thing. And, you know, I think now, obviously, I mean, music writing is way more diverse than it's ever been in terms of gender and race. And also just like in terms of like the music being covered. I mean, you can really read about any kind of music now. which you couldn't do in the 70s or even like the early 2000s.

So I don't know. Like in that respect, I'm actually like pretty positive about the way things are. Even though, I mean, there's always like music writing that you roll your eyes at that is just awful. But that's just because there's more music writing. Like there's more bad music writing now,

but there's also like more like really good stuff. Yeah. Yeah. I mean, I think for me it's like, at the time that almost famous came out I was not in all like I have I have like no real emotional relationship to what people oftentimes like consider the gods of music writing like I've never read

anything Lester Banks did I've not read Grail Marcus I'm only familiar with Robert Criscow because you know it's the he just pops up on Twitter sometimes with just like a a ridiculous take that he had in, you know, 1985 or whatever. Oftentimes you bring it. Well, he's taking shots at both of us. Yeah, no.

Yeah, that dude was at like Harvard or something like that. Like in talking about how if Ian Cohen says, I think he called me Ryan Shriver's Stoge or something like that. And it's like, if Ian Cohen doesn't like something, that's like I know I'm going to like it or something like that. But yeah, like I... Yeah, like, when I'm in my 70s,

I'm going to be, I'm looking forward to like knocking people. who were in their 20s. Yeah. I'm looking forward to that era of my career. Yeah. Very much. I'm also looking forward to writing. I'm only semi-joking about that.

I'm also like looking forward to being 70 and writing for like shuttered vice verticals or whatever. But. Ooh. Yeah. Yeah. If you're listening, dude. Nah, but, you know, in 2000. It's all love.

It's all love. Yeah. It is. You know, I'm sure someone's saying the same shit about us. But yeah, like at the time, like I wasn't nostalgic for that kind of right. Like at, you know, in 2000, the people I was reading was, you know, early pitchfork. I was reading like guys like Rob Sheffield who just seemed to be kind of breaking away from that tradition and, you know, in some ways starting a new one of like a boys club.

But yeah, I think what what we're seeing right now is the same kind of deconstruction of the, I guess you would call it like an access journalism industry that was happening all over again. because yeah, it sucks that, you know, people are losing jobs at Alt Weekly's at, you know, non-mainstream outlets. And in the same way that, like, there's more music than ever for people who enjoy music, there's more music writing available for people who enjoy music writing. Like, I mean, you get so many more opinions, so many more diverse voices being heard. And at the same time, though, it's worse for the people who create music writing because in some ways, like, you know, you don't need access, but you also need like time and energy. And if, you know, I work a 40 hour, 40, 50 hour job per week job and it's like if I don't have the energy to write about music, I'm not going to do it. And I don't think that, you know, like, I want to just point out.

that in almost famous william miller gets a thousand dollars to write that profile of stillwater that's like nearly six thousand dollars in 2020 that to me is the most ridiculous part of it but what i see with the future of music writing like you say is that um more people are still going to do it um i think the drive to voice opinions and be affected by art is still uh too much to tamp down um i'm just wondering about what influence it's going to have. You know, it's, I think one of the things that people, you know, look nostalgically upon, whether you're talking about like mid-2000s pitchfork or like 90s spin or Rolling Stone even in its heyday is that for music writing to have an impact, like what you say

can change the course of what's being talked about. and that through sheer like force of opinion this band can be talked about in the same echelon as like the biggest pop stars you don't need that and um i think that's like the positive you know if you can think of any of like everything kind of shutting down because what we've seen is i think you know uh you know irrevocably music being treated in the same like now that it's like a 24-7 news cycle, it gets treated a lot as like politics or sports, like kind of a horse race style thing about like who's, you know, about like winners and losers and like you, you know, in the same way, like in sports, you have to talk about the teams that are winning. Like you can't

give more coverage to, I don't know, the Sacramento Kings because you think they're a more interesting team than the Lakers, you know? So I don't know where it's, look, we would have had the same conversation pre-COVID. So I think that we're seeing, I don't know where it's going to head, but in a weird way, I'm positive because it just kind of has to go on, you know? Yeah, I mean, it's funny now because I feel like everyone's a music writer now because of social media. And I know this is probably true for you too.

There's a lot of people that I follow. Actually, some of my favorite people who talk about music, like they're not professional music writers. They're just music fans. Yeah. Like, listen to a lot of records. and a lot of times they're refreshing because they are just fans and they're not using the lingo of music criticism or like they're not as obsessed as like you said with the horse racing aspects of music writing,

which I agree has become really predominant, like that whole thing about how, you know, sort of judging music based on like how well it does in the marketplace. I feel like that's become way overbearing. And I'm looking forward to that becoming less of a thing like where we judge music, based on or even whole genres based on like how commercial they are or like how you know how much in the conversation they are yeah i just find that to be such a tiresome way to talk about art i mean i just don't think it's all that productive i mean you you said something before about like having an impact i have to say that like for me like in terms of like influencing discourse

or impacting a band's career like i've i'm personally i've never really been that interested in that and in a I always hope that if I pan a record, I don't want to hurt someone's career. No. I don't like it. I would hope that even like a listener would check something out. You know, they'd be inspired to listen to it because I wrote a negative review

and then they can form their own opinion. I feel like at this moment, like if you are a music writer, that, you know, there was this idea, I think, back in the 70s or the 80s or even like, you know, maybe even early odds that if you're a music critic, you kind of have to write about everything.

You have to, like, be the go-to person for music opinions on, like, what's happening in the culture. But I feel like now, you know, the idea that, like, a reader's only going to read, like, one writer is, I don't think anyone really believes that. I mean, I think people curate a collection of writers, and they go to writers for specific things. Like, and I know it's true for me. Like, there's people I follow because I know they really like metal or I know they really like country music or, you know, I know. And it's like, you're my country person, and I want to see you talk about that. And sometimes you have to unfollow people because they stop talking about music and they just talk about Trump all day long, which just like happened a lot in social media.

But it's like you almost have to, you know, I hate using this term, but it's almost like you have to have a brand as a music writer. You have to have like something where people are coming to you because of, they want your opinion on this, you know, as opposed to like, I just need a music opinion. I want to know if anything is good. And I mean, I feel like you and I have certainly probably carved out our own niches there, and that's probably like where we're still around. But I think that's true of like pretty much every successful music critic I can think.

Absolutely. It's like you can define who they are in a sentence, basically. Yeah, I mean, I think you're writing that like at the 2000s or whatever, you had like a Chuck Klosterman type guy who would like, or just like, or like Rob Sheffield, for that matter. It was like they would cover everything. And it's like, and it was interesting to read that person, but it's impossible to get that kind of following now where you're just known as like this writer who covers all, because it's impossible to keep up. And so, yeah. And also because there's always someone else, I feel like if you're a general interest person writing about metal, I'm like, well, I know metal writers who know way more about metal than you. So like, why wouldn't I listen to that? But I think rather than like a general interest person. But I also think that a general interest person, like if I like the style that they write in or if I like the way they think, then I think it can lead to a different perspective as well because I mean like it cuts both ways because, you know, you talk to someone who just listens to metal, you know, like they might be blinkered.

Yeah, exactly. Sometimes you get like a little too blinkered if you're just like in one scene. Exactly. Yeah. Yeah. because you don't really yeah you yeah because sometimes even with like the emo slash punk stuff I listen to like I'll see a band that like people are like raving about it's like I don't know man maybe you all need to like maybe expand your boundaries of it but I think and I think that's the case with any sort of genre as well but yeah I think the the idea of like the generalist like the person making essays about all sorts of things is really I don't know maybe that's coming gone but I could very well be wrong about that maybe there is that kind of a person who exists on TikTok or Twitter, and I just am not aware of them because the culture, the youth culture is not for me, you know?

Well, I think, you know, to wrap up this conversation, I think that the future of music writing is ultimately going to be two guys on a podcast talking about music writing. Yeah, you are at the ground floor of the future, y'all. Like, in 20 years, in 2040, we're going to, they're going to be doing like the 20th anniversary of this show. Yeah, Cameron Crowe's almost famous part two. It'll just be two guys on a microphone talking about music writing. Yeah, man.

Talking about music writing of the past. Yeah, this is what it was like to be at CBGVs when like Velvet Underground was playing or whatever. All right. All right, we've now reached the part of the episode where Ian and I recommend things that we're into. We call it Recommendation Corner. Ian, what do you recommend this week? All right, so in some ways I feel like I'm kind of. stealing your bit here because I'm talking about a band from Wisconsin.

You know, I think it's kind of funny how like in so many ways, like we kind of brand switch here while being on brand because you're oftentimes into the stuff that sounds like, you know, you can listen to it at the beach and barbecuing. And I feel like in some ways I'm like a Midwesterner at heart. So the record I want to talk about is, you know, Labor Day weekend came in went and in some ways people think of what they've missed out on as barbecues, social gatherings, NFL kickoff, you know, those are all things that are part and parcel of Labor Day weekend. And for me, I think about like what it's what it might be like for people starting, you know,

maybe their last year of college. You know, a lot of people have been, you know, robbed of that experience. And when, when autumn starts to come to pass, you know, that's. to me, it speaks to a specific kind of emo that is made by a band like Barely Civil, the kind of American football slash death cab derived, like staring at the changing leaves and thinking about your future. So Barely Civil is a band that started out in 2018, and I think this is a band that's going to speak to your heart, Stephen, because three of them are products of the University of Wisconsin satellite system. One went to UW, Milwaukee, one

UW Ashkosh and another UW O'Clair. They're based out of Wausau. Yes, that's where I went to school, baby. Newgolds. All right, and school pride. So yeah, these guys in 2018 they put out their debut album called We Can Live Here Forever

and, you know, it was a solid entry into basically kind of emo worship, I guess. These guys said in an interview I did with them recently, you know, very much influenced by Death Cab, Jimmy World and also they wrote these songs when they were 18 years old so the influence on that was still pretty profound and in this new album they okay so if I really wanted to feel old I could

just refer to this interview where they said for their second album we want people to feel the way that I did when I heard the world is a beautiful place and I'm no longer afraid to die's harmlessness that record came out in 2005. They were 17 when that record came out. I was 35. So they were literally half my age talking about this formative experience. And with this new album, they work with The World Is Guitarist Chris Teddy recorded at his studio. And this to me, their new album, I'll figure this out, is just autumnal emo, like par excellence.

If you want the feeling of being on a Midwest campus, watching The Leaves Change, thinking about lost loves and about what the future holds and the daunting prospects of your early 20s, it's not a sound that people really do that well anymore. I think with a lot of the style of music, it's gotten screamier or like more kind of pop. But this hits at a very specific niche that I just can't get enough of. Like basically if you like Death Cat for Cutie's plans or Jimmy Eat World's futures, like the kind of darker follow-up, this record's for you. It just sounds gorgeous. The vocals are kind of emo-y, but not quite. It's still almost more like frightened rabbit in a way. So, yeah, barely civil's. I'll figure this out. If you're looking to feel wistful, if you want to start layering, if you want to start layering, if you want to. to start like sipping, you know, a hard cider, this is, I would say this is the one for you. Yeah. And, you know, I knew you were going to talk about this. I had a feeling you were going to talk about it.

Like, if you weren't, I was going to bring it up because, you know, I do feel obligated to to rep Wisconsin bands, of course. But like, aside from that, for all the reasons that you just said, this is like a really great record. It's like, it's perfectly time with the season. And it really has that like throwback emo rock

And they're totally unapologetic About like Be considering themselves an emo man Like they're like our influences Our death cab The world is a beautiful place to die They are unapologetic about that And I appreciate that, you know

Yeah absolutely So yeah definitely check that record out The record I'm going to recommend Is called New Vernitas It's by a dude named William Tyke And he's a guitar player who has been around for a long time. He got to start playing with the Silver Jews. I think it was like late 90s, early 2000s.

Since then, he's been, he's played with a bunch of other musicians, but I think he's really established name for himself with like a series of just like beautiful and wonderful sort of atmospheric instrumental guitar records. His records always feel like they should be the soundtracks of movies. and he actually did recently do a score for the latest Kelly Reichert film First Cow.

Good movie. This album that he's put out, yeah, it's a really good movie. And this latest record he's put out, again called New Vanitas, is, again, just like a really sort of like atmospheric, beautiful, evocative record.

And it's not a score to a film, but it will create movies in your mind. It's definitely one of those records. I think, like, when you talk about, like, instrumental guitar records, I think people might have a certain image in their head of, like, a fokey dude playing an acoustic and doing, like, lots of weird tunings and maybe kind of showing off, a lot of, like, kind of, you know, noodling and all that kind of thing. But I think William Tyler is, like, a true composer.

You know, he's not a guitar player first. I think he thinks about the soundscapes that he wants to create. And I think, like, on this record, in particular, there's a lot of stuff on there that isn't necessarily based on the guitar. It almost reminds me of like the Brian Eno like ambient records, like where there's a lot

of just kind of spaciness you know, just kind of weird keyboard textures sonic explorations. You know, I went out of walk Labor Day weekend listening to this record hiking in nature.

This record was such a great accompaniment. meant for that. It was like it's a record that will like will make you feel stoned without doing drugs. I guess that would be like the best endorsement I could give of this record. So the record's called New Benetus. It's by William Tyler.

Put that in your ears this week. Yeah, if you're out of weed, listen to this record. It will save you some money. I like William Tyler too. I think that it's it's a pretty crowded market for like instrumental kind of rootsy guitar music and you can just kind of like with some bad you can just kind of tell like this guy is definitely better than other people right even if it's like hard to explain yeah he's

definitely at the top of the class I think like him and like Steve Gunn are at the top of the class and there's like some other good people too but like those are the guys you want to go to and even Steve gun has moved more into maybe conventional singer songwriter territory but Tyler is more he's definitely sticking with like the atmospheric, you know, wing of that subgenre. And yeah, I think he does it better than anyone. So hopefully you enjoy those recommendations. And I hope you enjoyed our latest episode of Indiecast. And if you're looking for more music recommendations, sign up for the Indie Mixedape newsletter.

You can go to uprocks.com backslash indie. And I recommend five albums per week and we'll send it directly to your email box. We'll be back next week with more news and reviews and trends for your ears. Thanks guys.