I think I mentioned last week some of the interesting messages I get via the Popdose mailing list. A lot of what comes through is from public relations flacks; artist reps and label folks get in touch with Popdose EiC Jeff Giles, and Jeff sends the best of ‘em along to the rest of us on the staff. Here’s one that came through a few weeks ago
From: [name withheld]
Date: Thu, May 7, 2009 at 11:09 PM
Subject: Please, please, please listen to this singer! It’s good Karma!
To: jefito@ popdose.comHey Jeff,
I have a favor to ask you. Please, please, please give [redacted]’s music a listen. I am begging you. Yes, that’s right… I am begging you.
She is really an amazing and unique singer/songwriter and we need to get her some press. I am hoping you can just take a few minutes and listen to some songs off her new CD “[title redacted]”. It’s good karma and I know you’ll love her as much as we do!!
Now, at first blush that’s kind of cute—a whimsical, unconventional way to promote an artist-client. But you know what else is cute? Monkeys, especially when they think they’re people. You know what, though? Monkeys are kind of whiffy. You don’t notice the smell at first, because they’re so gosh-darn charming, but then it starts to creep into your consciousness, your olfactory landscape and it just won’t quit, and eventually it blots everything else out of your awareness, and you can’t even laugh at the animal’s antics anymore because all you can think is how now amount of dry-cleaning is going to get that ripe ape-scent out of Mr. Jocko’s little vest and cap, and the only thing for those clothes will be to burn them.
The e-mail above has a slight odor to it, too—the mingled smell of condescension and desperation. The moral bullying is bad enough (listening to Artist A will make you a better person! Don’t you want to be a better person?), but there’s a passive-aggressive undertone that quickly becomes off-putting.
First things first: Buffy the Vampire Slayer — the movie with Luke Perry and Kristy Swanson — had its moments, but ultimately sucked. When Buffy the Vampire Slayer made its debut as a TV series in 1997, it was the best thing to happen to TV until, well, Ronald Moore and David Eick’s “reimagined” version of Battlestar Galactica in 2003. It’s not hard to see why. Both series took stock fantasy/sci-fi narratives (i.e., vampires wreaking havoc on a community or humans trying to escape a relentless robotic enemy in space) and turned them on their heads to spotlight characters and stories where identity, morality, sexuality, gender, race and class were in flux. In the case of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the growth of the main characters was often spurred by the introduction of someone new. For the bookish Willow Rosenberg (as played by 