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 Editor says Not normally a fan of downtown chic, a recent gig in the heart (or more appropriately, the liver) of Portland’s art market was more than I could resist. It was a highly entertaining and sparsely attended show. Imagine my surprise when I spotted not one, but two of our big-name music biz whizzes. Whiz 1 was, as always, demure and friendly. Whiz 2 was 3 or 4 sheets. More comfortable with my own kind, I pursued conversation with Whiz 2. Shortly into our topic of, what else, Portland music, Whiz 2 boistered, “This city is about to be put on the map! Whiz 1 and I have big plans for Portland!” “Like what?” I asked. “I can’t tell you,” Whiz 2 retorted, “You’re with the press!” Then he bent over backwards sprouting laughter like a fern sprouts...fern things. With the press, I mulled. The Press. All the sudden I felt like Fletch in a bad disguise. Was I really so threatening to my business acquaintance? What could I possibly do to be a menace to his “big plans?” And what, one might ask, could those big plans entail which might need to be covered up? I suppose, in a way, that I deserved the treatment. I’ve made it no secret that our magazine’s intentions are completely socialist in nature. We believe that whatever happens in Portland should be determined by the artists, not the marketers. But then, how realistic is that? We’re talking about the Market, and how many artists really understand that elusive trading ground? Not enough, in my estimation. But then, I’m not about to start offering courses in business planning. The whole thing really stinks to me anyway. We all want into this thing, but none of us are quite sure how to break into it. Even that phrase alone offers a glimpse into what it means to be a part of The Business. Break into. It sounds like a crime. Most of us have big dreams. I suppose it’s up to someone to have big plans. Who gets the rewards, then? To coin a cliché, it’s not what, but who you know. So back to being The Press. If I’ve alienated myself from some secret cabal of decision-makers by publishing this communiqué, maybe it’s that much better. MLP stands for integrity and hard work. Though the temptation to know secrets is strong, I’d rather be left to develop stoicism in the face of a system devoted to rewarding the shrewd. In that spirit, welcome to issue 6. You’ll find an article written by Menomena, a band of amazing resourcefulness. They’ve created a buzz for themselves with nothing but their own creative drive and attention to detail. There’s also an interview with the founders of Portland Taiko. This group of drummers has set cultural change as their number one priority, but they have discovered that attracting listeners requires a tremendous amount of hard work. We dedicate this issue to the artists who put their craft above all else. You’re the group which inspires us, and in turn, we hope to reflect your dedication. |
