I’m Ready. You’re Not.

I get it, you’re excited. You’ve written some tunes, maybe showed a few friends, got them down on some semblance of a recording, and now you want the world to know that you’re about to take them by storm. Most of us at Bucketlist Music Reviews have lived that moment and felt both the excitement and heartbreak of feedback from our peers and maybe a few professionals. It’s a fucking ride and the whiplash can be maddening. All your friends said you were the shit and you probably played a few shows. Maybe had a few lighters in the air or some mosh pits. Hell, you could have been doing this for a long fucking time, and think you know everything. The fact is my colleagues and I are always ready for your music, you’re just not actually ready to hear what we have to say, and this is absolute monkey shit.

I know what you’re thinking. Here’s another grumpy bitch writer who can dish the criticism and can’t take it. That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t actually consider myself a fuckin writer! That said, this little love letter isn’t about me. It’s about the level of expectation we as artists have of those around us when we ask the roughest question we possibly can. “What do you think dude?” is something we can never be fully prepared for but god fucking damn it you can at least try. There are a few ways to go about that instead of taking to your fucking twitter or you mother fucking comment sections or holy hell some of you have podcasts? WHO THE FUCK ACTUALLY LISTENS TO THAT SHIT?!? Cough, sorry.

I can go blue in the face trying to describe the standard and the do’s and dont’s and the blah blah blah, but it’ll never be enough because let’s face it, some of you think you’re perfect, some of you think this is a game, some of you think we pundits are hacks because what the fuck do we know, and some of you are awesome but a good portion of you are really just cunts. I don’t want the world to stop trying to make art. I’m far from trying to take people’s freedom of speech or opinion away from them, and I don’t even want people to stop doing it their way since you’re either going to end up the one artist/ensemble/whatever the fuck out of thousands that is going to nail it or not. Though this whole self recorded/mixed/mastered shit has got to go. Let somebody smell your shit before you go around telling everybody its fucking roses, but either way I end up doing my job that I honestly do love, business as usual. 

If that part didn’t sink in; YOU HAVE TO ASK US WHAT WE THINK FOR US TO FUCKING TELL YOU. Underground or famous, we here at Bucketlist, by the decree of our Queen and beloved slave master, review only what is requested of us. Imagine that for a minute. You ask somebody their opinion of your art, they give you an honest answer, and then you have a public tantrum about it in some magnificent fashion or another. This makes no sense to me and I supremely doubt it would make sense to any of you, but here we are, loved and hated and I truly know that’ll never change. That said, a rant is a rant and one of the most beautiful parts of my job here is that I get to bitch as much as my cunty little heart can handle. Seven days a week, including holidays and my birthday, all year round, I am ready to hear your music and tell you what I think and feel about it because I truly love what I get to do here and so do my beloved colleagues. I only ask one thing of you, my dear submitting artist and readers alike. Before you send that email requesting our verbal spew after your time and money have been spent making this adorable little presentation of what you can do, be sure A) you actually want to know, and B) it’s not going to give you an existential crisis. Your art is for you and when the dust settles there is nothing I or anybody else could say that will change that. I am going to ignore the possibility that these submissions and occasional subsequent hissy fits are for the sake of publicity because really, you being a cunt about this whole process sure as hell won’t make you better at what you do or me less of a monumental fuck. So honestly, are you really ready? 

Written by Jason Greenberg
*Edited by Dominic Abate

About Jason Greenberg 169 Articles
On the first day, the Lord said "Let there be Bucketlist," and all of human kind then became aware of the incredulity or abysmally flaccid result on their attempt at Art. On the second day, the Lord said "Jason, go review that show you're going to on Friday," and begrudgingly, a review was made. What the world was for Jason Greenberg before that point is either completely unimportant or mildly pornographic, but the world of today after many years of serving his Queen has brought him opportunity, hardship, and a whole lot of Bucketlist patches on indiscriminate pieces of clothing. You may see him lugging your band's equipment and yelling at you aimlessly about the useless construct of time. You may see him expelling a noise not fully understood by humankind at the end of a microphone. You may even see him swimming in an ocean of poutine, but you will always see him as his true self, a sentient and obnoxious Bucketlist Music Reviews Billboard.

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