Editorial

Music journalism’s relationship to economic reality has always been shaky. Here are some ideas of where that relationship might need to go.

Mocking depression seems to still be fair game, even in today’s ultra-sensitive climate. Stop it. 

Our Neill Jameson doesn’t care about Kim Kardashian’s Morbid Angel shirt, but he is concerned about the aggressively stupid reactions to it. 

It shouldn’t take a tragedy like Chris Cornell’s suicide to make us focus on depression and metal illness.

You put so much of yourself into the record that of course you’re crushed when someone dismisses it. It’s the most human reaction. If you had a new baby you couldn’t fathom someone typing on Facebook that “Eh, it doesn’t really do anything interesting and that goo goo ga ga junk is derivative of other, much cuter babies.”

Neill Jameson provides a protest idea to any musician wounded by Bandcamp’s plans to donate all of this Friday’s earnings to the ACLU. 

Extreme metal has the unique ability to smash our romantic illusions about life and the world. It’s time to apply that same cold stoicism to executive power, no matter who’s President.

If you know anything about Napalm Death you probably know this bit of trivia: the band contains no original members. While they are known for the revolutionary Scum album, not even their oldest current member played on it. So when it comes to people leaving, dying or being fired, when is a band no longer the same band?  

Throughout the decades of arguing over metal, there is one undeniable constant: metal videos are usually pretty dumb bullshit. 

Music criticism, and the reviewing of musical pieces in general, is not obsolete. You’d be forgiven for thinking so, though. 

Never one to fart in a crowded elevator and leave, Neill Jameson returns to address some responses to his recent op-ed on crowdfunding in metal. 

A metal band has launched a crowdfunding campaign, so fans can donate them a “living wage” in order to continue as band. Our Neill Jameson wonders how the fuck we got to this point. 

“No one even eggs houses anymore because they only want to buy cage free organic eggs and that shit’s expensive.” 

You bought the record. You wear the shirt. But does that mean you deserve an explanation from Nails about why they are on hiatus? Neill Jameson doesn’t think so. 

Are the noble intensions of an old-school punk really helping anyone? 

Our Neill Jameson thinks Metalsucks totally missed the point of Nails. Or maybe they’re just baiting you for clicks. 

Publicist UK vocalist Zachary Lipez provides a rebuttal to Jeffrey S Podoshen’s recent guest editorial on “Social Justice Warriors” the metal scene.

Decibel has been labeled Social Justice Warriors from the right. And attacked by actual SJWs from the left. Should everyone maybe just shut up for a second? 

An anti-fascist protester tear-gassed a Taake show to the benefit of absolutely no one. 

Pentagram‘s Bobby Libeling allegedly recently practiced poor judgement. But his management’s defense of his actions is even worse.

Agalloch are no more. Sort of. Neill Jameson thinks someone’s dick might have gotten in the way of things. 

You might wanna double-check the price on that Purple Rain deluxe reissue.  

Hope you’re enjoying that limited edition Marilyn Manson Antichrist Superstar cassette you picked up Saturday. 

This week, the metal community lost one of the oldest and most beloved pieces of its backbone, Jim “Sadist” Konya. 

A bit back, I wrote a piece on our blog about how women are treated in metal, and I learned a lot from the experience. The main takeaway? Holy shit, are there a lot of stupid people out there.

I recently realized that I’ve been having more and more discussions with people about how women are treated within the metal scene, and music in general. Turns out my knee-jerk reaction to throw jokes at the problem wasn’t the best way to address it.

It’s now the summer season, where half of you will make some joke that wasn’t funny the last seven years you told it about being a vampire that burns in the sun. It’s also festival season, where a majority of you go out to various places in packs and get shit-house drunk while not paying attention to any of the bands you claimed you wanted to see, yet be fully prepared to complain about the bands you didn’t like.