Crickits

Mountains & Molehills

By the Cricketal Bug

Crickits

Well, it had to happen. This is a piece where I finally try to squash my own. My buddies, music crickets, who normally seek to squash poor musical pretenders. Now we get our comeuppance here.

A while back I wrote a piece where I mentioned a music label which is part of a famous publishing house and which seems to be the only one releasing albums in Pakistan these days. As I noted they seem to get their sister rag to talk up the releases. Ethical ? Canny Business practice ? First there was the lame Strings album that was reviewed to the stars. A 5 star review for an album that really only merited perhaps at most three. Or mayhaps even less. Then I noticed the horridly derivative Rozen had gotten major props too. Coincidentally, they be on the same label too.

And now, I have come across perhaps the most interesting review regarding artists from the same label, printed in a sister rag of our publication (I do say pandering is widespread and I do bite the hand that feeds too; I am after all a bug.) A somewhat evenhanded review methinks, but what really bothered me about the piece was that it was by written by someone who had actually played on the album ! Cowrote Track 10 of the album and then wrote the album review. Talk about failing to bother to appear unbiased. At least when I used to talk up my buddies’ albums I used to have the decency to use a pen-name.

Khair, standards have fallen I guess. But then again perhaps they never were that high in the first place with crickets who ranted about Colas, crickets who raved about ’70 crap prog bands and crickets who were really fangirls and boys working out issues alternately adoring bands or hammering them for attention. Crickits who smugly appear on current news comedy programs. Crickits who can’t stand other Crickits. Crickets who bash consumerism but work for ad firms promoting the same. Crickets who get pseudo philosophical and do get published but no one really gets what they are on about. Perhaps even they don’t get what they are on about. Crickets who write looking down on the reader and write so densely that one has to look up crap. Crickets who are supposedly NFP-clones. Crickets who are not. Crickets who apparently write all the pieces that appear in a weekly rag. Crickets who actually seem to think there exists something known as a music industry and scene and should be taken seriously. Crickits who just write to sort out their personal issues. Crickits who believe this year is the best year ever musically. Crickits who believe that the best year is in the past. Crickits who really want to be musicians deep in their hearts but can’t stand musicians (does that make me self-hating?). Crickits who want to be part of the scene or be seen.

And then, there are lastly crickets like me who just can’t really be bothered. Well until now. Now I am bothered and bugged. Sort of what makes me a bug and not a cricket these days. No one afterall wants to be a cricket when one can be a bug. This is more fun and I can be myself, a bug up people’s noses. A self-aggrandising bug as matter of fact: an archive of all my masterpieces published in these here fair pages can be now found at themightybug.wordpress.com. Bug out.