Pretty much every time I post something now, nine times out of ten the first thing I write will be something about the purpose of writing about stuff. Usually I’ll realise that I’m doing it again and remove it before the damage is done, but still a cheeky little moan will wiggle its way through the net every few posts. I mean, literally the last post I shared started that way. I genuinely think about it a lot.

I think about it a lot as somebody that writes about other people’s music, but it really hit home a couple of weeks back when I was trying – with spectacularly unsuccessful results – to get some kind of coverage for the album that my band had just released. I spent ages researching little blogs, reading their content, looking for contact details, and writing directly to them. I contacted around 25 that I thought were a good fit, and that were still active. I heard nothing back from any of them. That’s fine though, and I’m happy to write that. In most cases, the people that run those blogs will be like me. They’ll be husbands, fathers, teachers, whatever. They have lives. Even so, twenty-five or so snubs undoubtedly paints a picture that it’s an absolute stinker of an album, but you are more than welcome to have a listen and make your mind up on that. I mean, it could well be. I won’t put the link here, because the post isn’t about that, but you can find it elsewhere if you want to.

Anyway, what really became clear to me from the experience is that it feels as though there’s very few people out there now who, like me, will listen to something and share it without expectation of anything in return. It seems that, by and large, the only way that people will cover something now is through platforms like Submithub or Musosoup. This is nothing new of course, but now with the proliferation of ChatGPT, Gemini, and the like these blogs don’t even need to phone in their generic 100-words or copy-and-paste your press release anymore. I can’t see the point in writing names of blogs here, but it’s quite depressing to see how many only take submissions via those platforms… and what’s worse is the excuses many will use for doing so. It’s because we get far too many emails or because it makes things simpler to have everything in one place. Well both may be true, but I dare say it also doesn’t hurt that you can charge people for the pleasure of having you share some nonsense copy that nobody but the artist themselves will actually read. That you have barely read yourself.  And people will pay it too, because why wouldn’t they?

I think that, ultimately, everyone that creates something – across any area of the arts – wants to share it, wants to see people engage with it, and wants to discuss it. Unfortunately we are now sadly in an age where making music is no longer something that requires any degree of thought, getting coverage is simply a transaction, and nobody engages with it anyway. I genuinely don’t know where things go from here. I’m sure that they exist, but I wish it was easier to find other people out there that are doing what I try to do. I wish that your options as an artist were not essentially no coverage of your music or pay twenty pounds to the Submithubs and Musosoups of the world and have somebody half-heartedly (if that) post something that quite literally could not mean any less. It’s grim. Proper Grimel Grimstead.

I dunno. Maybe I’m just old now, or maybe I’m just pissed off that nobody wants to talk about our music. The Submithubs, Musosoups, and people that run those blogs that I’m talking about will certainly think the latter, and I’m fine with that. The hundreds and hundreds of DIY artists making music that they pour their soul into will hopefully know where I’m coming from though. I know I don’t post very often now, but if you’re one of them, I’d like you to know that, yes, we do exist. There are still some people out there that will listen to your music, and might write about it if the feeling takes them. Or we might not. The problem is finding them, and finding them at the right time. Catching them when they’re not frazzled or sleep deprived. Or writing 50-odd pointless SMART targets to appease management (because the students certainly couldn’t give a flying fuck about them!) in the provincial sixth form college they work at. I feel your pain. Either way, none of this helps…

TL;DR: fucked if I know.