Nikki: A Gatekeeper of Many Things

I have been working the door of Architekt’s music venue for almost two and a half years now. I have played there myself about 3-4 times. Throughout this time I have seen some things that have amused me, many of these things that happen during a show I can’t react to, although I usually would like to, very much. If you want the inside scoop on what it’s like to be the gatekeeper of your friendly neighborhood Architekt, you have come to the right place.

 

First of all, fangirls are the worst. I have never met a fangirl that I have liked. These are the girls that love to ask me what time doors are opening about 30 times. These are the girls that are obsessed with dudes that have 100 likes on their band page and haven’t showered in a week; you can smell the cockiness from a mile away. There are some bands that earn that stench. There are some bands that I look at after the show and I think, hell yeah you flaunt that shit because you’re talented. But far too many times do I have to encounter bands that just sounded absolutely awful and then have girls hanging around praying for a drop of sweat to land on them if they are so lucky. Also, it should be noted that fangirls love neon more than anyone ever should. Beware of these girls because they are not fun.

 

Speaking of neon, the new wave of “hipster fashion” is something that I deal with at almost every show with bands. If done correctly, the hipster look can be flattering and contribute to a bands look, positively. However, if you are wearing vans with deliberate holes in them, Christmas pajama bottoms, face paint, and a DIY cut-off Nirvana shirt; please stop. There is a major difference between being cool quirky, and being weird quirky, and that line is not to be crossed unless you are David Bowie or have an actual fan-base.

 

It’s also a funny thing when fans become selectively illiterate. The venue signs have “no re-entry” clearly spelled out about 8 times in two separate places, but a magical blindness comes over people when these signs are present. I have been offered money,  asked to keep silent about it, I have also been yelled at and called names. But at the end of the day, you’re the 49-year-old man with an anger problem, and I’m the short but unshakeable gatekeeper. The people that have the most difficultly with the rules are musicians’ parents and girlfriends. There isn’t one concert that I can get through without hearing, “but I’m so-and-so’s girlfriend” or “but I’m so-and-so’s mother”. I’m sorry, I apologize, please do whatever you please because there are no rules for you.

 

In addition to everything that’s going on at the entrance door of the venue, there are many more crimes that occur on stage. Here are some tips;  A triangle is never something that should be played on it’s own. An acoustic show means all instruments are acoustic. If you hold the microphone like a wild man, it will cause feedback. Your amp needs to be at a reasonable volume before being run through the PA system. If you can’t harmonize, please don’t. Everyone knows you don’t really have Laryngitis, but good try. Lastly, stop covering, “Wonderwall”.

 

Working at a music venue can test your patience, often. But, a drunk band manager once told me, “kid, you’ve got the best job” and he was 100% right. I know I have a sick job, I love my job. Everything that I see during the night gives me a story to tell the next morning. No matter how many weird things I see, or how many people frustrate me, I laugh it off because it’s never a boring night at work. I get paid to listen to music, I think I can deal with a few nut-jobs in the process.

 

The most egotistical thing I’ve ever written…

It seems like every blog that I read has at least one post with a “Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written” disclaimer. While many of those blogs stall after developing exhaustive amounts of content, I’ve managed to get to that point in just six posts! That’s lame of me. I apologize.

I also apologize for the absurd arrogance of what I’m about to do next:

“You need to work twice as hard as you do because you’re half as good as you think you are. That’s what it takes to make it.” -Me, On my Facebook and Twitter profiles

I’ve debated writing this post for a number of reasons, starting with “Am I seriously going to quote myself in my own blog post,” the answer to which is evidently yes. Also, this quote comes across more negatively than it’s meant to. If only I could talk to whoever said it and have her rephrase…

But my biggest hesitation is that I’m giving unsolicited advice (the worst) about something that I have no experience in (even worse than the worst). I hate it when someone pretends to be an expert in something that they are not. It’s even worse when they’ve never even been in the position of the person to whom they are dispensing this advice. So please take this post as nothing more than observations from someone in the music industry who is very aware that she has no idea what it’s like to actually be a musician.

I was in 7th grade when the internet shifted from being a technological luxury to “a thing that everyone now has access to.” Napster sprung to life shortly after. Somewhere between my third school dance and the Yankees second consecutive championship, my dad installed our first CD burner. Little did I know that by the next World Series, these late 20th century advancements would stealthily change my 21st century life faster than I could say Benny Agbayani.

It was a monumental shift, so clearly cemented in the late 90s but the impact of which I only started to truly feel about two years ago. Now I’m immersed in them every day. Without the rise of digital distribution and social media, what I do and how I do it would show up radically different both for myself and the music industry.

A staggering 95% of music is purchased digitally. The internet is on my phone. I carry around a phone in my pocket. The industry has gone through a drastic upheaval and the dust has yet to settle. We’re still changing. Whether or not music’s more level playing field is fair or unfair is a constant debate with an unresolved but pretty meaningless answer. What does matter is that the topography of the music landscape has sure as hell changed, and it’s time to grasp these changes. The music industry has never been fair. Talk to anyone who has signed a 360 deal in the past 30 years. They’ll tell you how fairly the industry has treated them.

Access to digital distribution and social media has given musicians more power than ever. The challenge is setting yourself apart in an over-saturated market. Because now, all musicians have this power. With great power comes great responsibility.

Musicians are expected to do more than “musish” in the made up word of Richie Cannata. They’re graphic designers. They’re photographers. They’re website builders. They’re videographers. They’re social media directors. They’re producers. They’re event planners. They’re bookers. They’re sound engineers.

They’re broke. And if they try to delegate any of this work to professionals, they’re really broke. And then we yell at them for doing it the wrong way. I work for a company that’s trying to change this in the most affordable way possible. But regardless of who shoulders these responsibilities, musicians need to connect to and accept that this is what’s needed not only to be successful in the context of today’s music industry, but to survive. To stay relevant you must evolve; you must create. Musicians are called artists for a reason. This is the scope of “what it takes.”

Last month I saw Sevendust put on one of the best, most high energy live shows I’ve ever seen at the Best Buy theater in New York City. After the show, they did a VIP meet and greet. After that, they talked to every fan who patiently waiting outside of their tour bus. Then Sevendust got on that bus, drove to and played in Philadelphia, New Hampshire, and New Jersey with no off days after a long stretch of consecutive tour dates before this show (including an autograph signing on Easter Sunday.) They were physically beat up, emotionally exhausted and away from their families, and mentally drained from a brutal touring schedule.

Not an ounce of their live performance was affected. Not a complaint was heard. They’ve been doing this for 19 years and they still work this hard.

This is what you are signing up for. It’s probably not going to get easier, though every day my Architekt family tries to change that. But a new breed of difficult will emerge.

You have to work twice as hard as you think you do because many of a musician’s efforts are thankless. You’re half as good as you think you are because you’re likely bias to your own music, and I’d certainly hope you are. Be humble about your own hard work. Recognize the hard work of everyone else. Don’t spite people who are more successful than you even if you don’t like their music. They’re more successful than you, which means you can learn something. Know that no promise is worth attaching yourself to sleaze. Ever. Help out good people who need it. Remember that nobody owes you anything. Remember if somebody does owe you something, they probably don’t think that they do. Keep your head down and remember what you’ve committed to. Keep your chin up when you’ve reached your threshold. Become undeniable by working harder and wanting it more than anyone else.

Take unwarranted blog advice from people who aren’t in your position. But, do so selectively.
-K

Reputation and Boundaries in Music Publicity

Powerhouse Publicist/Golightly Media Owner Lily Golightly achieves outstanding placements for artists of any level in any genre, and she has the track record to prove it.  Having shed bright lights on some of New York’s hidden talents and having worked with highly successful acts like Flogging Molly and Katy Perry, Lily constantly has her pulse on what it takes to garner great results for just about musician.. In this post, she shows us how to navigate the tricky boundaries of the Music PR world–a collision of industries not always known for their ethics. A former mentor of mine and an inspiration to women in music PR and entrepreneurism everywhere, we are privileged to have her as a guest on The Sound Off.  Be sure to visit her website, like her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter!

When I was seventeen, all that I wanted to do was go to shows. I was in several bands and decided that my dream job would be working in an environment that allowed me to see rock bands night after night, moshing, drinking, being silly, and besties with everyone in the “scene”. Throughout college, I desperately tried to turn this dream into a reality. When I wasn’t analyzing ticket counts for my touring class or burying myself deep in legal entertainment and accounting books for my music industry major, I was playing punk clubs, rubbing elbows with bands (that are now at the height of fame), and partying like it was my job- thinking that eventually it would be!

I’ve been working tirelessly in the music industry for about six years- bouncing around boutique agencies and moving from being an assistant (a terrible one at that), to a publicist, to a director, and now a business owner. Some people ask me what the hardest part of my job is. The hardest part is not securing clients, it’s not getting press, and it’s not even waking up early to get to the office to pitch morning shows. The hardest part of the job is what I was looking forward to the most in my teen dream – the sometimes too friendly nightlife aspect.

Drawing boundaries in the music industry is a topic that really needs more attention. Let’s pretend your reputation is an expensive and gorgeous new hair cut with short bangs (because you read the last issue of NYLON). Now imagine the music industry is a six year old chewing ten pieces of bubble gum at once and giving you the stank eye. One wrong move and that kid will throw that sticky gum at your hair and you’ll have to shave your precious locks. Weird analogies aside, what I’m saying is that bad reputations are sticky as hell, and once they are stuck on you, they are SO not cute.

Example #1: At South By Southwest a well known booker cheats on his fiance, displaying some intense PDA at day parties. Of course we all know about this and don’t say anything, but the girl that he hooks up with is an intern at a music agency. Soon everyone is talking about it, and in turn, he looks like a scumbag and she has a hard time getting hired.

The music industry is small. We are all constantly watching to see what everyone else is doing. If you are at a music conference where you will be among industry veterans as well as potential clients and possible mentors, draw the boundary. Do what you choose in your personal life, but make sure that people at conferences are talking about you for the right reasons.

In certain respects, the industry is like high school. Some of us still dress the same, we all know who is hooking up with who, and there is TONS of gossip! For example- right now I know about an illicit office affair that’s happening at a completely different PR company. My friends who are magazine editors know it, too!

Think about it like this: Would you be ashamed if other people knew about the shenanigans you are pulling? …Yes? Then stop!

Example #2: A publicist gets too drunk at a client’s show, locks herself in the bathroom, and the venue manager has to retrieve her from the bathroom, with all of the writers, label execs, bookers, and clients watching as she stumbles out of the venue.

This publicist was working, which means it’s her responsibility to draw this boundary.  I tell all of my employees that on our client’s time we should limit ourselves to two alcoholic beverages per show- if that!  Personally, I don’t drink at shows at all anymore. Working with a clear head and avoiding potentially embarrassing situations is crucial in letting me effectively do the work that my clients trust me with.

Example #3: An assistant publicist becomes friends with the band that she is working with. The guitarist often texts here and begins to drop flirtatious messages. Flattered, she meets him when the band has a show in New York and they hook up.

This one is tougher. I know people who have fallen in love this way and who have gotten married. I won’t forget though- at the first job I ever had my boss told me that if I dated any of the clients, client’s managers, bookers, or anyone that I met through the job, I would be immediately terminated. It’s also tough because boys and girls in bands can be really hot and the thought could be very tempting! However, when your boss finds out that you’re shtupping their client, they will be less than pleased.

The best way to handle a situation like this is to immediately tell your boss that you are receiving inappropriate messages from the band and to stop flirting with the band member. If your crush cares about you, they will understand that you need to maintain your reputation as a hard worker and not be labeled a groupie. If something happens in the future, I guess that means it was meant to be.

I cannot stress enough how important drawing boundaries is when you are working in an environment like the entertainment industry. We all love gossiping, we all have to be competitive just to be in this industry, and whatever actions you take will follow you around like you are still in high school. It’s that serious folks!

Nikki and Macklemore: A Love Story

Nikki is back! She follows up her last post with an in-depth look at Macklemore’s “The Heist” through the eyes of an avid music fan, but not necessarily the world’s biggest rap enthusiast. Her analysis of the lyrics, hip hop scene, and production quality view this album through a unique lens of a musician, PR student, and an every day 18-year-old .

If you know me, you know I don’t typically listen to that much rap. I don’t dislike rap, I’m just selective about who I listen to. Macklemore is the newest addition to my “selected few”.

I was a skeptic when I grabbed my headphones to listen to his latest project, “The Heist,” but converted to a total fan by the end of my first listen. The album has an even mix of “feel good” songs while also covering some serious topics. It has something for everyone, and because of that Macklemore is the first unsigned artist in over a decade to hit #1 on the U.S. charts.

First off, let’s just talk about what everyone else is talking about, “Thrift Shop”. It’s no surprise that it went viral because it has all the right ingredients: A quirky intro, outrageous music video, and funky sax loop. You name it, it’s got it. The lyrics stray from “Your Standard Rap Song.” How often does a rapper talk about saving money? He discovers the best way of saying that the economy is crap, but you can still look fresh without emptying your pockets. His verses are full of quick and smooth puns that vary in subtlety. I was still digging up new kicks to the industry’s shin on my 5th and 6th listen as he makes the rich culture in rap look completely ridiculous, mocking mainstream brands and sarcastically spitting, “that’s $50 for a t-shirt.”

On his track “Wing$,” Macklemore continues to stick it to a major brand with a more serious overtone. The song is a monologue telling of his childhood obsession with Nike shoes, and how this shoe lust lead to theft and violence in urban settings. Macklemore’s narration is so incredibly vivid and passionate that it’s as if you’re witnessing how everything went down alongside him, and in real time. His killer vocal tone and dynamic expression translate his emotions clearly throughout the song. His raw creativity is also highlighted in this track as he alternates between “spoken word” and straight forward rapping, a combination we hear too rarely in today’s rap scene.

People could probably argue that Macklemore is unoriginal and raps about the same topics that mainstream rappers do, which is true, but he has radically opposite perspectives. His gutsy approach calls out a lot of the messages delivered on today’s radio. For instance, he addresses homophobia within in the rap community in his song, “Same Love” which is something no one in that genre has touched with a ten foot pole (except Eminem’s PR agent). With his educated and eloquent lyrics, Macklemore makes homophobia obsolete in today’s hip hop scene by drawing on personal experiences even though he’s straight. He also tackles his difficulty with getting clean. He never pretends it was a walk in the park, and he really opens up of his failure, success, and constant struggle. I would so much rather listen to an authentic story like that than the latest hot rap track glorifying codeine and soda, unsurprisingly a drug of choice for middle school D.A.R.E. students.

I couldn’t say I’ve covered all the reasons I love this album without mentioning Ryan Lewis. He produced, recorded, engineered and mixed the music on “The Heist”. Lewis uses a combination of both retro synth and entirely new, more modern sounds. The production quality is really clean throughout the entire album. What’s really great is that unlike a lot of rap albums, it never sounds over-produced, so it never detracts from Macklemore’s accessible style. The only song that I’m not completely thrilled about the production on is Jimmy Lovine. The synths are pretty generic and it sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the other tracks. But if one track out 15 disappoints me, so be it. Throughout the album, Lewis creates this quirky vibe that almost sounds indie on some tracks. He applies many unique vocal filters tailored to suit each featured vocalist on every chorus. Lewis plays an essential part in why the album is widely appreciated among different types of listeners. He mixes a variety of influences to give the album a distinct new sound.

I would suggest “The Heist” album to anyone that loves great instrumental backgrounds and appreciates a creative rapper. In a sea of artists who seemingly have forgotten the content of their message anymore, it’s great to see someone who does care make it. His fluid style is so slick that you almost forget that he’s constantly refuting the mainstream culture, so he avoids seeming preachy.

If the rap industry had more artists like this, I would be a huge rap fan in a heartbeat, but for now I’ll stick to the few that make the cut.

-Nikki

PR Passion: Job or Vocation?

Our first contributed post comes from Jamie Brooks, a PR specialist at Buffalo Communications in Washington, D.C. Jamie’s versatile skill set has helped her develop into a five tool player, taking on a multifaceted role at one of the most prestigious boutique sports PR firms in the country.  Jamie is also a newlywed with a baby on the way!

A few weeks ago, we interviewed a candidate for an entry-level position on my team. As I sat across the conference room evaluating this person for the position, I was reminded of myself and many of my fellow graduates a few years prior. Not because this particular candidate had similar prior experiences, but because of the young, vibrant attitude that was behind every word. She was energized, smart and fearless.

Let me take step back for a second. I’m having a baby. This huge, life-changing event has made me incredibly aware of my life decisions and career path. It’s also, in some ways, had me doubting my choice to study and work in PR. Shocking, because I pretty much live and breathe PR/Integrated Communications. I’m enthralled with it, yet I find myself doubting the very core of the industry. And here’s why:

For the past four years, I’ve lived and breathed Sport PR and marketing, specifically golf. For the most part, I’ve loved it. I work for a boutique agency that is the leader within the golf industry. I’ve had the opportunity to handle media relations, trade show coordination, desk side meetings and strategy, while also playing a role in our company’s digital strategy team, training new employees, troubleshooting technical issues and providing general office support. In short, I’ve played a part in every element of our company, down to managing our media library and (at one point) leading the graphic design team. I’ve learned a lot and contributed more to the success of this firm.

But lately, in my pre-baby craziness, I question what I’m doing with my life, asking myself “is this really what I’ve decided to do?”

Any PR professional will tell you about the long hours, crazy priority changes and sometimes overwhelming nature of the work. Particularly with media relations, we dedicate hours of research, pitching and strategy, and walk away with no immediate results that peak a client’s interest. It becomes extremely frustrating and isn’t always rewarding.

But back to the interview.  As I sat there listening, I was reminded of a passion that I carried with me in my own interview almost exactly four years prior; a spark, that while still inside, had slowly started to fade in the mess of life changes. Listening to this candidate talk about the desire to learn more and grow in the field was empowering. I actually walked out of that interview feeling better about myself and my career than I did walking in. In that hour, I was able to answer the question I’ve been posing for a few months.

Is this really what I’ve decided to do?

The answer is yes. I choose to do this work and this job because the passion that fuels every PR/marketing professional — regardless of field of study or industry of practice – is a spark that ignites and empowers their work ethic. A passion for the work they do and companies/brands/products/etc. they represent.

Tis The Season

Today’s post is from Architekt’s own Nikki Marroccoli. Before joining our Evolve branch, Nikki was a part of our venue staff. She’s majoring in Public Relations at Seton Hall University, and is already blending her love for PR with Music.  A musician herself, Nikki is bringing a 360 degree perspective to being a public relations in the music industry.  Read her thoughts below!

As I walked out of my Seton Hall University dorm room and headed to class, something very odd happened. For the first time since September, I was not completely and totally freezing my freshman ass off. In fact, it was so beautiful outside that I didn’t even have an objection to going to class.

As soon as that first breath of warm air hit my lungs, the song “Summer Skin” by Deathcab for Cutie instantly popped into my head.

I was totally confused as to how the scent and feel of a nice day could induce such a strong craving for a particular song. I mean, this type of thing has always happened to me, but I’m in college now, and that means I’m supposed to analyze and question things, right? That’s what they tell me, anyway.

I could feel the song inside me; the simplistic snare beat, the mellow baseline, the reverberating piano chords.  It just fit.

It took me back to high school, cruising down the shore, driving to the beach in my crappy car with my best friends. But how did I get back there so suddenly? Like…how does that even happen?

I realized it was the exact same type of day as the day that I first discovered (and became temporarily obsessed with) this song.  It was sunny day with an intermittent chill that chased up my spine, sending me shivering back into reality. It’s was a nasty reminder that it’s still winter.  It was rudely shouting “Don’t you dare get used to the warmth.”

I doubt that I’m alone in having this experience, though.  Repeating the environment that we’re in when we begin a relationship with a song can trigger the same experience as when we first heard it.  There’s a nostalgic pull that ropes us in, yanking us back in time. A time when we didn’t just listen to a song, we experienced it. That time when we first said to ourselves, “this song is sick.”

But it goes even further than that.  Certain musical aspects of a song can connect with a certain type of weather right off the bat. No one knows the exact formula or what criteria fits with what weather, but you sort of can just tell.

For now, it’s still winter unfortunately, and I’m listening to old Coldplay, Explosions in The Sky, and M83. These three artists are always on my winter playlist for some reason.  They belong with cold weather, harsh conditions, and premature darkness. Next time it’s snowing, go outside and put on “Wait” by M83. If you want to experience complete and total alignment between music and weather, that’s one of your best bets.

We all have our “go-to’s” that we play in certain seasons, or even just that day’s weather.  Regardless of what you listen to, everyone’s cycle is pretty consistent. People find themselves going back to the same music when the change starts, and that’s such a cool trend to notice in yourself. It’s like we step outside, see what the weather is like, and our soundtrack is automatically created. Isn’t it incredible to think that music is such a powerful force that it not only coincides with environment, but even with our physical senses?

But, maybe that’s just me being all college like.

-Nikki

The Grammy’s and My Obsession with CM Punk.

Yesterday I invested three-and-a-half hours in The Grammy’s, watching through the split-lens of an avid music fan and an “industry professional.” Most of my night was spent griping–with Twitter as my bullhorn and my followers as my witnesses–about how both of these views left me underwhelmed.  Today, I’m back at Architekt, trying to be a catalyst for change in music.

I don’t like award shows.  It’s weird to me that any industry would spend an obscene amount of money to praise itself.  But, The Grammy’s have housed some of the most iconic performances in music history, and the Recording Academy uses the money and exposure garnered by The Grammy’s as leverage for their work in music education and development.  So, I try to stomach E!’s Red Carpet Glam Cam and the stale interviews that be for the greater good.

While Ryan Seacrest was busy showcasing Katy Perry’s dress (boobs), I found out that Halestorm had won for the Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance for “Love Bites (And So Do I).”  As I looked on with the rest of America at the strategically designed cleavage hole in Katy Perry’s dress, it struck me as odd that the Best Performance awards were being given before the telecast when they had three-and-a-half hours of time to waste.

Of course this was not the case with the Best Performance awards of the other genres.  You know, the genres that are sponsor friendly and provide the type of hits that z100 can pump to a widespread demographic.  Those Best Performance awards made it to television, complete with “total shock” from all of the winners and speeches gushing with gratitude.

The music business is very much a business, and I understand that.  The winners in their respective mainstream categories earned their slice of music history and deserve be broadcasted.  I’m not a rock snob.  In fact, I’m a probably a bigger fan of Fun. than I am of Halestorm. I actually would rather have seen Anthrax or Lamb of God win that.  But Halestorm is a very talented group who works their collective ass off, just like the rest of the winners, and they deserve to be at least acknowledged on television, if not have a televised win.  Somewhere between Rhianna’s millionth performance and the 45 minutes of mediocre tribute material, they could have noted this accomplishment.  Shunning an entire genre on not only music’s “biggest night of the year,” but the only “all-inclusive” music award show is unfair.  The music industry is simultaneously shooting itself in the foot and slapping itself in the face.  Country music got it right when they established the CMAs.

So why work in an industry if I abhor it so? For a few reasons, mostly that I don’t.  As much as I may hate parts of this business, music has changed my life for the better on multiple occasions and in countless ways.  And the parts of it that I like, which really  is the majority of it, I love.

So, today I’m at Architekt, contributing to this multifaceted machine that’s trying to, and already is, changing the very industry that I was so eloquently whining about via Twitter yesterday.

I also whine about the WWE on Twitter sometimes.  (I’m really not nearly as negative as I sound!).  I’m a huge wrestling fan, and that’s largely due to CM Punk.  I swear this is relevant. Hear me out.

CM Punk worked his ass off for years in the WWE and was going to leave when he realized his relentless efforts weren’t going to shatter the company’s glass ceiling (known to most wrestling fans as John Cena). Punk is extremely talented, but was constantly given a back seat, likely because of his a-typical, steroid free physique and his “bad boy” image.  The WWE had been banking off of the formulaic script of pushing a new wrestler and having them lose to John Cena.  They sold a lot of tickets and t-shirts by doing so.  They also created a demotivating culture of frustration for every other wrestler.  It’d be like having a regular job and never getting a promotion.  But also, part of your job consists of getting kicked in the face.

But that all changed in one mic spot. In 17 minutes, Punk made himself the most valuable wrestler in the company, and he did so by airing his grievances, the grievances of other wrestlers, and diehard fans, all while blurring the lines between kayfabe (character) and reality.  He tapped into a groundswell of support that the WWE was too blind to even realize existed.  And just like that, the WWE had to resign him.

He became undeniable.

Punk came back to the WWE, and was asked why in the countless interviews that followed his return.  He said it was because he couldn’t change the WWE from his couch.  He had to change it from the inside.  Becoming the industry’s most powerful force and then opting to sit on the sidelines is a waste.  Otherwise, he’d just be the best complainer in WWE history.  Instead, he became the best wrestler in the world and WWE champion for over 400 days.

I want to be CM Punk.  Major labels have become the WWE Board of Directors, and every mediocre pop star that buries truly talented artists is another John Cena.  I want my own title reign, or at least a title shot. I want to create a more fair playing field. I want to help musicians break through roadblocks, and help their hard work pay off. I want to help them sustain everything that they’re creating on their own. I want musicians to be able to flip off the people that overlooked them; the ones opting for a quick buck instead of investing in musicianship. I want to give persevering, talented musicians a chance. I want to be a voice of the voiceless. I want to be an agent of positive change in an industry that is struggling to catch up with itself.

And so I am, and so we are.  Even though I get sarcastic comments and eye rolls from my coworkers whenever WWE Raw is on the big screen at the studio, they’re not so different, my colleagues and Punk.

There’s a whole world of music beyond the radio.

This first blog may not be a “Pipebomb” promo, but it’s a start.

-K