Ink World

I just got an email that it is the thirty year anniversary of All About Jazz. This was the first place my non-fiction articles found a home which were not staple ‘Zines.

All that I did there was due to a deep affection for the music (and the written word). I didn’t get any compensation, which was fine as like my career AAJ was also burgeoning. It did serve as a sort of letter of introduction for me. San Francisco at this time had a vibrant jazz scene, one could see live acts of every tier on the jazz ladder.

Problems arose:

I became very active in the local jazz scene. I was willing to do articles and reviews and no matter where they were ending up, aside from being on guest lists, there was zero compensation. I started getting CDs mailed to me from publicists. At first this was exciting, but I soon became besieged. I asked one of my peers in the game far longer than I how they dealt with it. If the CD arrived and was not addressed specifically to me, but rather something generic such as “Dear Jazz journalists…” donate it to library or toss it.

During this time I was doing interviews for AAJ. It is not ego to say that for some of the artists, it was the definitive interview. This is partially due to my OCD, I would delve into obscure minutia of their careers, not merely looking to hear about what they were currently promoting and one well known highlight.

I kept the interviews conversational and have hours or cassette tape for every interview I did which during this era’s primitive technology, I would have to listen to over and over while typing transcription.

It was not appreciated by my editor at AAJ, that is to say, I never got a “good job” nor anything other than a nit-pick regarding some format issue (I wont say who this person was but it was not Michael Ricci whom I have never had issue with). I must have been doing something right though as the final three Chico Hamilton albums he asked me to write the liner notes. Shamelessly, I sent massive amounts of texts assuming that they would cut it down. Each time, I found myself surprised they just left it in. I also ended up doing liner notes for other artists.

Eventually, I didn’t like the fact that all I was getting from making AAJ shine was what I did for myself while others seemed to be benefitting from within, so I left. This was all well before everyone had social media pages with view numbers I would have killed for back then.

I still remained active locally. An interesting thing occurred. There were jazz publicists, they were charging really good money and telling these low to mid tier acts that they will send “X” amount CDs out etc etc. However, the CDs were going out with form letters so no one was really bothering to check out what amounted to bulky junk mail. All my peers received same CDs as I, with same form letter and all recycled them. To say the least, ineffective and waste of money. Yet I was still writing articles, now freelancing for various jazz sites.

I noticed that a lot of acts were using my articles and reviews as the majority of content in their promotional material. More than once I would receive a packet from a publicist, who was getting paid, mainly comprised of things I had written!

I used to frequently see concerts at the original Jazz at Pearls in North Beach and often the little placard on table would have one side be drink specials other something I had written about the performer.

There was a local singer whom I had interviewed, written articles about and had once considered a casual friend. She invited me one Sunday to what was supposed to be a brunch. I got there and immediately noticed a surprising amount of people.

As people sipped wine it very quickly became like one of those nature documentaries which show a shark feeding frenzy. Everyone seemed to be a singer or pianist, all jutting their arms out to me to snatch their business card or press packet. I was there in an official capacity without having first been asked if this was ok.

As being online and doing sites became easier, more and more people were finding ways to monetize. I was still mainly after years just getting guest list-free drinks-CDs.

My last straw, I had minor surgery, the singer was having another brunch. Even had I been fit as a fiddle I had no inclination to go as first time was horrible. Clearly she had made promises to some of these artists that a journalist was going to be there.

“I can’t make it this time I had some out patient surgery.”

“Yeah but you are ok now right?”

That was it, I was done. Initially I was going just step back from jazz journalism briefly. Time flew by. I actually started writing novels and essays under a non de plume which did well. To this day, my books are selling. I am on guest lists and count people who had been heroes or inspiration as friends.

I hadn’t signed onto my aol email in so long that it deleted everything, I am sure that it was full of generic promos for people’s music.

Would I ever do an album review or something like that? I would, but not for free. I look at those early articles I wrote, I was definitely a little green. There’s some over earnest moment that make me blush but also some good stuff too. So much time has gone by that I mostly think of the excitement now that I felt asking people whose music I was listening to questions I came up with, stepping up to the press table at Masonic Auditorium for my press packet preconcert. As I had not gone to uni for anything, I was living the dream.

To Anyone interested my new email

melowshhh@gmail.com