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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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Local Round-Up
Music Awards is officially under way — votes have already begun pouring in to the Weekly offices. All I have to say is that it’s funny: Seeing which nominees vote for themselves and which vote for others. (Since the votes are not for public knowledge, the results will accompany my autographed poster of Moe Howard and my dead-ass body to the grave — don’t even ask.) Each type of nominee can rightfully defend his way of thinking. The one who votes for others can say, “Man, I’m just voting for the guy or gal who, I believe, is the best in the category, even if it’s not me.” The one who votes for himself can similarly say, “Man, I’ve worked my butt off this year, and not only do I believe I haven’t received the recognition I deserve, I also really think my music’s better than that of my competition.” Context, people. It’s all about context. Hell, I know that if I were nominated for Best Fast-Food-Lovin’, Self-Loathin’ Misanthrope versus Rosie O’Donnell and my buddies Jeff and Frank, I wouldn’t even dream of checking the box near my name. See — context. ... Elsewhere in Music Awards-ville, a soupçon — just a taste! — of confusion is in the air. Instead of being either dangerously full of themselves or dangerously full of self-loathing, some nominees have revealed (some, accidentally; others, deliberately) their ignorance of the process by which the ballot is constructed. They’ve been thanking the Weekly for their being nominated. Uh-uh. Don’t thank us. Thank our nominating committee. They’re the ones in charge. Here’s how we here at the paper put the ballot together: We give a list of categories to a couple dozen local music scene movers and shakers (publicists, club owners, booking agents) and have them write in their faves. We then tabulate those votes, and — voila! — the ballot is born. But please understand: We Weekly employees still accept bribes and/or sexual favors on behalf of the nominating committee. Let’s be excruciatingly clear on that, ’K? Thanks. ... In case the news hasn’t reached your cave yet: A review of The Other Side of Kindness, the sophomore full-length from alt-country upstart Collin Herring, recently appeared in a national, glossy, monthly music magazine alongside reviews of new discs from Bruce Springsteen, Weezer, and Gorillaz and — get this — received four-and-a-half out of five stars. The only other album of the few dozen reviewed to receive a score as high is the new one from Coldplay (five stars) — that’s Cold-fucking-play, people. Not too shabby, Collin. BTW, the publication is Paste, and not that I’m completely omniscient (though I’m damn close), but I didn’t recognize many of the writers’ names in the mag (including the guy or gal who reviewed Other Side). Whatever. Based on a quick read, Paste is more-than-decent — it’s better-written than a distant cousin of a music publication, No Depression, but nowhere near as erudite, authoritative, or fun as, say, Fort Worth Weekly. (Eee-yeah.)
Contact HearSay at hearsay@fwweekly.com.
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