No Expectations 057: Good Stuff
What matters when music journalism is in crisis. Plus, a nice milestone for this newsletter.
No Expectations hits inboxes on Thursdays at 9am cst. Mailbag email: Noexpectationsnewsletter@gmail.com.(Please, no PR pitches). Personal email: joshhowardterry@gmail.com. (Pitches, paid work, and job offers welcome). With last week’s hiatus, this is a long newsletter. You may need to click a button on your email to read the whole thing.
Song of the Week: Bnny, “Good Stuff” (Video)
No Expectations is featured on Substack Discover this week.
On Sunday night, Substack added No Expectations to its weekly list of featured publications. This was a total surprise but a welcome and validating gesture. I started this newsletter a few months removed from a demoralizing and unexpected layoff in December 2022. It was always meant to just be an outlet for me to write about music and culture I cared about without worrying about pitching publications, fitting an editorial voice, hitting arbitrary traffic goals, and waiting for freelance checks to arrive. After a decade of working as a music journalist, I still wanted to write regardless of the instability in my industry. I had no idea it’d grow like it has and even pay some of my bills.
A little over a year later, it’s probably the best decision I’ve made in my career: I’ve become a more diligent freelance writer and I’ve gotten a lot of work because of it. Plus, the chance to go deep into the music that means the most to me has been so fulfilling. Since No Expectations was added to Substack Discover, it’s gained almost a thousand new subscribers—which is frankly a lot. I hit a 3,000 subscriber milestone on Tuesday and if the pace keeps up, it won’t be a shock to the next one soon. It’s honestly a little overwhelming but I’m grateful for the opportunity to share music from under-the-radar artists who deserve your time and attention.
If you’re one of the many new to No Expectations, here’s a short explainer of what you signed up for. Each week, you get a wildcard main essay, a new 15-song playlist, as well as updates on what I’m listening to, watching, and reading. Since I’m a Chicago-based writer, this newsletter is very Midwest-focused. So, if you live in this city too, you’ll also receive a weekly roundup of upcoming local shows to check out. I try to just write about what I like. There are no ads or sponcon. If you’re recommended something here, it means that I enjoy it and think it’s worth your time.
I believe music is something personal and local. It’s something that’s best spread from person to person rather than spoonfed by a computer program. Songs are more important than simply being “chill beats to study to” or “twee indie for road trips.” It’s art, not background noise to soundtrack an activity, and it should be treated as such. So, if you’re reading about an artist in No Expectations, you should know that I found out about them through reasonably organic means. It’s either through seeing them live or hearing about them from a trusted source, like another writer, a musician, or a friend. There’s nothing plucked from context-less, algorithmically-driven playlists with confusing names like “Sad Girl Starter Pack” (?), “MINT” (??) or “Lorem” (???).
My bread-and-butter subjects are indie rock and the Chicago music community. I’ve been writing about music professionally since 2012 and the artists in my adopted city have become my main beat. That said, my taste can be all over the place. There will be a grab bag of everything from country, hip-hop, punk, experimental, jazz, dance, and pop in here too. If you enjoy music from independent artists, you’ll likely find a lot to dig into. Check the playlist later on in this newsletter for a good sampling of music you can expect to hear.
This post from December is a good sampler pack of the newsletter’s “greatest hits.” Some of the choices there are artist interviews, others are deep dives on one band, a few are essays, and a couple are answers to mailbag questions from readers.
Thank you for being here—I hope you stick around and find something you like. If you dig this newsletter and didn’t hit subscribe on accident, consider upgrading to a paid sub. It keeps the lights on and gives me more time to make No Expectations better.
Music Journalism Is In Crisis. What’s Next?
On Wednesday, January 17, Condé Nast announced that it would be folding its music publication Pitchfork into its men’s magazine GQ—laying off half its staff in the process. A few days later, Sports Illustrated announced that it would part ways with the majority of its workforce after defaulting on a quarterly licensing payment. After that, massive downsizings were announced at places like Business Insider and the Los Angeles Times, which laid off 115 people—among those arts and music journalists. You probably already know this. It’s another dire month of layoffs that extends an incessant and numbingly devastating years-long streak in my industry. When I started my career as a journalist in 2012, it was “the worst time to break into the field” and it’s gotten bleaker ever since.
For someone who mostly writes about music, the cuts at Pitchfork are especially alarming. Condé Nast laid off seasoned journalists and critics who possessed almost two decades of experience with the publication like Amy Phillips, Marc Hogan, Evan Minsker, and more—a rarity in the field. They entirely gutted the site’s features department, run by Ryan Dombal and Jill Mapes. They parted ways with editor-in-chief Puja Patel, who ushered in a renaissance for the site, hired more diverse and talented writers, and expanded the scope of coverage without ever sacrificing its editorial authority. Instead, she elevated it. I started reading Pitchfork in the mid-2000s as a high school music obsessive and as the publication evolved, so did I. There is no point in listing every artist I discovered through their work over the past two decades or how the site informed and provoked how I thought about music and criticism. There are too many to name.
It’s still unclear what the imminent restructuring of Pitchfork into GQ will look like. With what staff remains though, there is no doubt in my mind that they will continue to do great work. They already have, even after a demoralizing week where their resources were gutted and the workforce halved. Great people are gone, all of whom I admire and several I consider friends, but great and talented people remain. They will keep publishing incisive and essential criticism as long as their parent company allows them to. While I never wrote for Pitchfork—I was too intimidated to pitch them early on and realized later that I wanted to keep one site I read as a fan, untouched by potential “how-the-sausage-is-made” experiences—the news hit especially hard for me. I’ll still read their work every day and will do so no matter what happens next
Over the past couple of weeks, there’s been a lot of ink spilled about Pitchfork and what it means for music journalism at large. Much of it is great—like Marc Hogan’s piece for Rolling Stone. Some of them, which won’t be linked here, argue that the layoffs have something to do with the site covering pop music more extensively. Those pieces can be chalked up as boneheaded, misinformed axe-grinding. What sticks out to me is that by almost every metric, Pitchfork was doing great. A now-deleted tweet from a Condé Nast audience engagement editor wrote, “Pitchfork has the highest daily site visitors of any of our titles; their higher consuming segments generate more unique page views by volume than any title. This despite scant resourcing, esp from corporate.”
In this industry, you can do stellar work that performs well but it doesn’t matter. If you’re owned by someone who doesn’t read your publication and wants the profit line to go up faster, your job isn’t safe. My first layoff happened when I was 25 years old. I was the music reporter for a local alt-daily that no longer exists. Despite leading the staff in traffic and later finding out I was paid the least in the office, I was still laid off. It was my dream job (despite the low pay) and it was devastating. Even though it was seven years ago, my confidence never fully recovered. Websites, no matter how beloved and widely read, can shutter and contract unexpectedly for no reason other than short-sighted incompetence at the very top. Of the publications I’ve worked for or interned at (The A.V. Club, RedEye Chicago, Noisey), they either no longer exist or are gutted shells of their former self. These were formative, important places I loved reading and writing for.
Whatever your thoughts on Pitchfork or whatever review score you disagreed with in the past, the fact remains that good people lost their jobs. More than that, the site’s enduring success before Conde decided to gut it proves an appetite for thoughtful music criticism. The audience is still there. That Pitchfork’s existence is threatened and its remaining staff put in such an untenable position is awful. That there’s no obvious well-funded, and national music publication that could pick up the pace in its stead is worrying. (Of course, Stereogum is still doing great work totally independently—you can support them directly with a membership—but they don’t review albums quite as often or as Pitchfork and they’re not in a position to poach all their laid-off talent). I’m not alone in wanting a healthy, thriving, and authoritative music press, especially with the downfall of local alt-weeklies and newspaper arts critic positions. There should be websites that can cover underground and challenging artists with tact and care, rather than ephemeral pop culture hits on the juiciest tabloid gossip about the biggest stars. A TikTok video cannot replace a thought-out piece of written criticism.
I have no idea what’s next for music journalism but I know good, passionate, and important writing will still happen regardless of industry headwinds. I love running No Expectations and reading the dozens of other blogs my peers have started themselves. These DIY outlets are often essential and should be supported (you can check out other Substacks more deserving in the Recommendations tab on my profile). Though independent, writer-driven newsletters work as a scrappy alternative to traditional media, they cannot replace the resources, experience, and institutional security that come from well-funded editorial publications. There have to be both writers operating independently and seasoned journalists with resources and editors for music to be covered effectively. One-person newsletters don’t have the bandwidth to conduct investigations, hold power to account, or have the resources and knowledge to cover everything. You can only get that with well-staffed journalism.
The newsletter model, while great for providing a platform for diverse voices often excluded from traditional journalism, has no clear pathway to financial sustainability. I had a head start with No Expectations having a decade of writing for places like VICE, The A.V. Club, and more. I also had a few thousand Twitter followers to goose my numbers. Even with that, I’d still need to at least triple my paid subscribers to do this newsletter full-time. I do this for fun and as a way to buoy my freelance income. Writers just starting won’t be as lucky.
For the entirety of my career, I also had editors: people with experience and judgment who could look over a draft, fill it with edits, tighten up my arguments, and let me know if I was going to embarrass myself. You don’t get that with a newsletter. I miss having multiple people work on a draft to help me hone my voice and become a better writer. I still worry about falling into lazy writing habits without them. These lessons about storytelling and writing are vital. Aspiring critics and journalists should be encouraged, edited, and shaped. It’s tough to do that when you’re left to do it yourself.
People should still write and they should start newsletters. There’s not much of an alternative right now. Writers engaging with music out of passion is vitally important. I don’t want the future of music criticism to be some guy on YouTube ranting at a ring light. My peers do this work because they love it and they want to tell stories that make these works of art grounded in context and history. They cover music because it’s fundamental to our understanding of the world. Through criticism, you learn more not just about the artists themselves who make it, but about the places this art came from, and how it moves you. This curiosity is vital and totally human.
The powers that be can, have, and will continue to ruin what you love. No website is safe. It’s scary to think how artists will suffer when traditional media outlets continue to fold and shift focus to the biggest names. All you can do is support people and engage with art where you can. I’m reminded of what writer Miranda Reinhart said when she wrote about layoffs at Bandcamp in 2023:
In Aaron Cometbus’s 2019 book Post-Mortem, the question “what’s left if Gilman Street closes?” is raised. The answer given is easy. The people are left. The loss of the place will be felt, but the people will still be there. Music community in Chicago persists without the Fireside Bowl. Music community in Boston persists without Great Scott. Music community in Philly persists without Everybody Hits. Music culture persists in spite of the corporate overlords who make it harder because it has to. Music community online will persist without Bandcamp or Twitter or Tumblr or MySpace or whatever comes next, but we can’t let it be wiped away completely.
Faced with all this industry chaos and instability, it’s time to double down on people. As a fan, it’s important to think more intentionally about the music you listen to and where it’s coming from. Though the biggest stars sometimes make great music, there is more to explore in the underground that is just as worthwhile. You most likely discovered your favorite artists through your family or friends rather than an algorithm. These human connections to formative art are what it’s all about. Look in your hometown: More likely than not there are great, vibrant scenes happening in your backyard or nearby. These communities happen everywhere, even if no one writes about them. But they can’t be sustainable without your curiosity and support. Seek out the writers who are doing this work and support the artists making your homes vibrant.
Music journalism is in crisis but so is making a living as a musician. Spotify and Apple Music have only worked for a small sliver of artists, which means supporting under-the-radar, independent artists is more vital than ever. While we can’t control what billionaires do with beloved publications or music industry streaming profits, we can make efforts to be more human about the music we love. Go to the most granular level you can. Make a point to seek out artists who move you without the help of algorithms. Then, buy their records, read about them, purchase tickets to their live shows, and maybe buy some merch. These small interactions are how music communities thrive. This resilient, vital, and ever-evolving ecosystem is worth fighting for.
I thought about this a lot the weekend the Pitchfork news hit. I was still bummed and never felt more demoralized about choosing music journalism as a career path. (Well, maybe my first and third layoffs were worse but you get the idea). Instead of feeling down, I spent that time seeing bands I love and musicians I’ve gotten to know in this city through writing about the music community here and elsewhere. The shows were all galvanizing and cathartic times of communal joy that especially hit you when things feel awful. No matter what happens, they can’t take away that. They can’t take away the relationships, the memories of seeing bands grow from playing tiny venues to larger ones, and the music that still matters more than ever.
What I listened to:
No Expectations 057 Playlist: Spotify // Apple Music
1. Villagerrr, “Neverrr Everrr”
2. Bnny, “Good Stuff”
3. Robber Robber, “Sea or War”
4. Lutalo, Claud, “Running”
5. True Green, “Buzzerbeater”
6. Minor Moon, “The Light Up Waltz”
7. Merce Lemon, Colin Miller, “I See a Darkness”
8. Ducks Ltd., “Heavy Bag”
9. Katy Kirby, “Drop Dead”
10. Sleeper’s Bell, “Corner”
11. David Nance, “Tumbleweed”
12. Hannah Frances, “Husk”
13. Spencer Cullum, Hollow Hand, “O Caroline”
14. Phosphorescent, “Revelator”
15. Circles Around The Sun, Mikaela Davis, “After Sunrise”
Gig report: Squirrel Flower, Greg Freeman, Tenci at Lincoln Hall (1/19)
Every year, Chicago’s independent venues host a music festival right in the middle of January. It’s called Tomorrow Never Knows and throughout my life in this city, it’s consistently been an absolute blast. To pick just one notable year: In 2014, I saw Alvvays as the first of three at Lincoln Hall, Superchunk at Metro, and Diarrhea Planet opening up for Yuck at Lincoln Hall. A decade later, I only got to attend one show but it was an alltimer: Tenci, Greg Freeman, and Squirrel Flower at Lincoln Hall. Longtime readers of this newsletter know I’m a fan of all three acts on the bill, that I won’t shut up about Greg Freeman’s tunes, and that Squirrel Flower’s Ella Williams was a guest on No Expectations’ Taste Profile interview series.
I can’t say enough nice things about this show: a full band Squirrel Flower put on a masterclass in headlining and Tenci explored a much more muscular, sometimes squelching rock direction that was both galvanizing and compelling. With their second of three slot, the Greg Freeman band solidified itself as my favorite live band right now. Beefed up with the presence of local violinist Scott Daniel, the six-piece ripped through a set of new, Elvis Costello-inspired songs and bangers from Freeman’s future classic LP I Looked Out. It was the most sold-out it’s ever felt in my experience at Lincoln Hall and the packed room only made it more special. Your next opportunity to see members of Greg’s band is the Lily Seabird show at GMan Tavern on Saturday, February 10th. Lily is Greg’s bassist but Greg plays guitar in Lily’s band alongside drummer Zack James (Dari Bay) and bassist Nina Cates (Robber Robber). They’re opening for Friends of the Substack Villagerrr. Tickets here.
Gig report: Ground Control Touring x Noise For Now Access Benefit: Is This Whit (Whitney Covers the Strokes), Divino Nino, Melkbelly, Macie Stewart, Free Range, Sluice at Empty Bottle (1/20)
It was a rough week for a lot of reasons (the industry layoffs and Pitchfork news to name one) but the TNK show and this benefit gig at the Empty Bottle was a necessary breather from things feeling especially bleak. When you’re in a room packed with your close friends watching live music, it’s tough to come out of it worse off. It’s these moments of communal euphoria you have to hold onto no matter what. On Saturday 1/20, was the most stacked bill I’ve ever seen at the Empty Bottle: each act I’ve written about countless times throughout my career even in this very newsletter. Some of the bands are dear friends and others I’m just a huge fan of their music. It was truly special. While I am very biased since they’re some of my best buds, Whitney play songs by the Strokes better than the Strokes do now.
Gig report: The Cosmic Country Showcase at Sleeping Village (1/26)
Sorry to Daniel Donato but when I think of “Cosmic Country,” it’s Chicago’s Cosmic Country Showcase that comes to mind. Started at the Hideout in 2018 by then-booker Sullivan Davis and local musician Dorian Gehring, it’s an incredibly fun variety show and concert that’s entering its sixth year. Each Cosmic Country show features its house band and a rotating cast of artists singing classic country covers and originals (as well as comedians performing sketches and standup). I’ve been lucky enough to see Jeff Tweedy play as well as favorites like Sam Evian, Hannah Cohen, Lavender Country, Sarah Squirm, Liam Kazar, and more. It’s always a blast. The most recent edition of Cosmic Country featured Friend of the Substack Sean Thompson joining the house band on guitar along with guests like Dehd’s Jason Balla and Lizzie No, who headlined. Thompson, a fellow Deadhead, tastefully shredded throughout while No’s charming and infectious Americana songs were a thrilling way to close out the set. Her album from this month Halfsies is more than worth a spin. No matter who’s on the bill, Cosmic Country is a must-see if you’re in Chicago or Milwaukee.
I wrote about Robber Robber’s “Sea or War” over at Friends of the Substack Puke on Your Birthday.
Longtime No Expectations Reader Joe K. asked me to participate in his “Yearlong Song Challenge” where he and his buds write about a new song three times a week based on a specific prompt. It’s a great idea and a total no-brainer for me to say yes. My prompt was “What was the most recent song you heard for the first time?” Fortunately, it was something stellar like Robber Robber’s “Sea or War.” When I agreed to do it, Nina Cates had DM’d me the new video for the tune directed by Greg Freeman. Another opportunity for me to praise the Burlington, VT. That tune is also featured in this week’s playlist above.
What I watched:
The Killer (dir. David Fincher, Netflix)
Sometime soon I’ll be posting a roundup of my favorite films of 2023. I should’ve published something like this in December but since I am not a movie critic, I had only seen a couple dozen releases that came out last year. So, I decided to hold off until I got a better handle on the critically acclaimed darlings. I plan on catching Poor Things and The Iron Claw this weekend but I know there will be a few I’ll have to miss. (Hirokazu Koreeda’s Monster, Hayao Miyazaki’s The Boy and the Heron, Michael Mann’s Ferrari, and Sofia Coppola’s Priscilla to name a handful I couldn’t see in theaters). That said, according to Letterboxd I’m now at 50 movies from 2023 watched—which is pretty good for a music guy.
One movie I enjoyed that won’t end up making my year-end list is David Fincher’s surprisingly funny hitman film The Killer. Starring Michael Fassbender as a contract assassin, the movie goes to the true moral heart of that kind of work: navigating life in the gig economy as a freelancer. The unnamed character’s first assignment finds him operating out of a WeWork, sniper rifle and all. Later, he orders tools for his next kill via Amazon Prime which he retrieves from an official Amazon Locker. It’s fun, slight, and worth it alone for the scene they shot at Chicago’s Midtown Athletic Club.
NASCAR: Full Speed (Netflix)
One fact about me that my friends think is a funny quirk and my girlfriend endures is that I’m a NASCAR obsessive. Every Sunday during the season, I’m usually glued to the couch taking in a full race. I can’t explain it—I like most other sports, especially basketball, hockey, and baseball—but since 2020, NASCAR, not F1, has shot to the top for me. There is only one other music writer that I know of who also has a NASCAR.com byline.
As you might imagine for someone who operates in city boy indie rock circles, NASCAR is a tough sell for many of my buds. They mistakenly view it as too rural, regressive, and just making left turns. For years, I’ve wished that the sport would film a Netflix docuseries that introduces new fans to stock racing the same way that Drive To Survive made F1 a sensation. That happened this week with NASCAR: Full Speed, which I think is great. A perfect intro for folks curious about how the races work, what the drivers are like, and why the sport is such an enduring cultural force.
I should note that I’m a sucker for all kinds of behind-the-scenes sports shows. I can’t get enough of Hard Knocks, All Or Nothing, Drive To Survive, or anything like them. That said, this is worth it. My only knock is that it’s only five episodes. Check it out if you’re curious—you’ll be surprised and endeared to a sport you may have written off.
What I read:
Pouring One Out for Pitchfork – 9.2 Music Publication in a 3.7 Digital Media World (Marc Hogan, Rolling Stone)
Perhaps Pitchfork matters today because its arc parallels that of the internet itself, from nerdy and amateurish to grown-up, worldly, and inclusive, to now gated off in a Babel of AI-age confusion. But it also matters because music matters, because writing about music matters, because holding powerful figures to account in any industry matters.
Pitchfork’s absorption into GQ is a travesty for music media – and musicians (Laura Snapes, The Guardian)
Incorporating Pitchfork into a men’s magazine also cements perceptions that music is a male leisure pursuit, and undermines the fact that it was women and non-binary writers – Lindsay Zoladz, Jenn Pelly, Carrie Battan, Amanda Petrusich, Sasha Geffen, Jill Mapes, Doreen St Félix, Hazel Cills; the fearless editing of Jessica Hopper and then the most recent editor-in-chief Puja Patel, to name but a handful – who transformed the website in the 2010s. It also suggests that music is just another facet of a consumer lifestyle, not a distinct art form that connects niche communities worthy of close reading, documentation and, when warranted, investigation. It was Pitchfork’s Marc Hogan who reported that Win Butler of Arcade Fire – a band entwined with the site’s rise to relevance – had been accused of sexual misconduct by multiple women (extramarital relationships that Butler says were consensual); Pitchfork that published writer Amy Zimmerman’s report into 10 women accusing Sun Kil Moon songwriter Mark Kozelek of sexual misconduct (Kozelek denies the allegations). I wonder whether GQ will invest resources into reports like this, to sit alongside e-commerce pieces on how “The Best Cordless Stick Vacuum Will Turn You Into a Clean Freak”, to take one current example from their culture news feed.
The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:
Thursday, Feb. 1: Andrew Sa, Tobacco City at Carol’s Pub. Tickets.
Thursday, Feb. 1: Low Groves, Henry True at Hideout. Tickets.
Thursday, Feb. 1: Cruel, Diet Lite, Shoobie, The Courts at Schubas. Tickets.
Saturday, Feb. 3: V.V. Lightbody, Julia Steiner (Ratboys), Brent Penny at Sleeping Village. Tickets
Saturday, Feb. 3: Meat Wave, Cabeza De Chivo at Empty Bottle. Sold Out.
Saturday, Feb. 3: Gum.mp3, Ctrlzora at Schubas. Tickets.
Saturday, Feb. 3: FACS, Dianogah, Bloodhype at Secret Location. Tickets.
Saturday, Feb. 3: Ira Glass, Twin Coast White Orchid at the Fallen Log.
First, congrats on being featured and the subscriber milestone! Nice work, and that's awesome to see!
As for your thoughts on Pitchfork: You nailed it, and articulated well what so many of us in the music writing world are thinking about/wrestling with right now. The newsletter/blog's path to viability will always be rough sledding, but I think this is the perfect time to change that. People are weary of sterile algorithms, paint-by-numbers pieces that may or may not have been written by AI, and sponcon (I love that term, btw). Quality music journalism from authentic voices matters now more than ever.
Thank you so much for writing so eloquently about your profession - and my vocation! Also liked the Bnny song a lot.