Solid Mold

I'm curious," says Tess Taylor, "exactly how you'd cover a panel about covering the music industry." The president of the National Association of Record Industry Professionals sounds kind of intrigued. My first thought is to quote Bugs Bunny-specifically, "She don't know me very well?do she?"

But judging from the recent accuracy with which I've been shooting my career in the foot, it would be more fitting to quote Elmer Fudd. Honestly, folks, Jeff Koyen has had a better year when it comes to corporate relations. I've typically got nothing to lose as I once again prepare to carpet bomb a few bridges while attending the "Inside the Record Industry Press Room" panel at the environs of the Down Town Association.

In her role as moderator, Taylor conveniently sets up a sad example of music journalism with her very first question. She asks the panel to advise publicists trying to promote an act. Her three guests-USA Today's Elysa Gardner, Ken Schlager of Billboard, and Rolling Stone industry reporter Bill Werde-quickly sum up the sheer laziness of music writers. The big problem, they explain, is publicists who just go thinking that music critics are interested in all kinds of music.

You know what really bothers Gardner? "When I get a call pitching me a hardcore punk act. I don't cover that at all." Now, I'm familiar with Gardner's career. Her review of a Michael Jackson halftime show was one of the most inept articles in the history of rock journalism. This statement, however, sends me checking out her bio on the pages provided by NAPIR.

Sure enough, Gardner remains a pop music critic. She's the one who hasn't noticed that the occasional punk act has managed to make some inroads into suburban homes. And let's not trust her opinion of what constitutes "hardcore."

Schlager also goes off on those annoying publicists who think music writers actually have time to listen to music. He particularly resents how publicists sometimes send copies of a CD to more than one person at Billboard. Schlager explains that publicists need to help him in being very selective about which editors get exposed to music, "so we don't have to figure out what to do with it."

To her credit, Taylor rightfully asks what else a publicist is supposed to do if the first editor on a corporate masthead isn't interested in a band?

"Well," responds Schlager, "I'm the executive editor."

In truth, Schlager is co-executive editor and a total douchebag. He knows it, too, and later tries to backpedal from that creepy statement. But, seriously, he's a petty douchebag. That's why it's fun to write about this stuff. Getting blacklisted from Billboard would be an honor.

Otherwise, the panel is more predictable than depressing. Gardner thinks she's being a contrarian when she says that corporate sponsorship and promotions are no longer a big deal. In real life, nobody outside of Punk Planet thinks so, either-as her fellow panel mates soon attest. Other highlights include creaky old Schlager reliably lamenting that blogs lack fairness and the high journalistic standards of a legitimate publication like Billboard.

Bill Werde ends up being the real hero of the evening. It isn't hard to look like a good investigative journalist when you're following in the footsteps of a corporate flunky like Eric Boehlert. Werde's still impressively thoughtful and honest. He's even upfront about Rolling Stone's decline from trendsetter to another gear in the marketing machine. "If [a band is] on the cover of Rolling Stone," he explains, "they're probably also on the cover of 30 other magazines."

Gardner's most honest moment is when she explains to an indie publicist that her desire to push a talented new band isn't likely to impress a writer for USA Today. "I don't know if it's really about the quality of the music anymore," Gardner notes, before telling the publicist to assemble her clients a big press kit with reviews from alt-weeklies. Then people like Gardner who work at major publications might be interested-you know, once it's old news.

And yet the evening's lowest point is courtesy of the Village Voice's Joseph McCombs. The young writer asks what he's supposed to do when a publicist tells him that Joseph will be allowed to interview a certain act only if the article can get into a certain magazine, but then the magazine's editors say they'll only be interested if they can see the interview first, which puts poor Joseph into what he describes as a "chicken-and-egg" quandary.

Werde simply responds, "Don't do that"-before politely going into further detail about why Joseph is a total tool. Of course, Werde could've added that Joseph would be best off avoiding corrupt dealings while strictly writing about music that truly touches his hackety-hack heart. As noted, Werde is insightful. So much, in fact, that Werde can probably tell when his good advice would be wasted on the inane.