Music N' Other Drugs

“Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It’s about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy. If you expect to succeed as a writer, rudeness should be the second-to-least of your concerns. The least of all should be polite society and what it expects. If you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days as a member of polite society are numbered, anyway.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Buying a copy of Stephen King’s “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft” from the Niagara University bookstore in 2006 changed my life. I nestled into the basement of the Gallagher Center between classes for two days straight, because his manifesto entered into my orbit at the perfect time. I had gotten my first writing job four months earlier and already felt an insatiable desire to elevate without any of the cynicism or self-doubt that would come to inform my later work.

I was determined to make it whether anyone took me seriously or not, so everything that King was saying was exactly what I needed to hear. He assured me that I didn’t need to conform to The Extrovert Ideal to get my voice heard and that being brutally honest in an industry littered with sycophants was the only path to enlightenment. The more I applied that philosophy to the newspaper for which I was writing, the more my editor realized that I wasn’t playing around.

I treated what was essentially a glorified pennysaver as if it were The Washington Post by never slacking off and always challenging readers to step outside their comfort zone. As an 18-year-old film critic, I was given carte blanche to review anything I wanted as long as I met the deadline, so the possibilities were endless.

Were the 55+ readers of the paper really interested in taking an intellectual dive into how Randal took his co-workers to Kinky Kelly’s donkey show in “Clerks II” or how Borat tested America’s tolerance for cringe? Maybe, maybe not, but who was I to deprive them of that opportunity?

After a year-and-a-half of exposing people to films that they otherwise wouldn’t have seen, I was notified that the newspaper was eliminating both my column and the entire Arts and Entertainment section just for good measure. I spent the next two years contributing to various UK-based web sites for no money just to keep my hopes of landing a full-time position alive, but I soon came to the conclusion that moving on was the best option.

On a whim, I decided to apply for a job with examiner.com as their Buffalo Music Examiner, a position that would afford me the platform I always wanted with the laissez-faire management style I always preferred. They gave me the space and I took care of the rest, which meant organizing interviews, reviewing shows, establishing industry contacts etc. I paid my way into venues for the first year while solidifying my reputation as a writer to be reckoned with, and then, on March 13, 2010, I got on the list for Megadeth’s “Rust in Peace” 20th Anniversary Tour and the rest is history.

During the seven years I spent covering the Buffalo scene, I was fortunate to interview everyone from Chuck D. and Ian Anderson to Paul Reiser and “Weird” Al Yankovic. I honed my craft as an interviewer, writer, and thinker willing to tell the truth at a time when society at-large appeared to be headed in the opposite direction. I developed consequential connections with artists and publicists that I maintain to this day despite the fact that so many “journalists” in 2024 are afraid to write anything that would jeopardize their credentials.

I’ve attended enough shows and press junkets to know who’s there to schmooze and who’s there because writing is one of their reasons for getting up in the morning, but I’m also not naive enough to believe that we live in a world where people only care about the latter. Journalistic cosplay just isn’t my bag, baby.

Sure, artists have tried to test my resolve in the past such as when the drummer for Mushroomhead ran naked down the middle of their tour bus or when the president of the John Mellencamp Fan Club took me to task for saying that the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra would have given fans more bang for their buck than their beloved hero, but, as I learned from Stephen King early on, writing isn’t about making friends.

When examiner.com shut its doors in 2016, I took a two-year hiatus from writing before finding my way back with the site you’re currently looking at.

Music N’ Other Drugs was a slow burn at first, but, thankfully, the relationships I cultivated in the past came in handy when trying to get the ball rolling. I must have submitted at least 100 portfolios to various publications with no response before deciding to go it alone, because the reality is that there’s no place for a writer like me in the mainstream. I refuse to tell artists what they want to hear and I don’t view every scenario through a political or racial lens. The fact that so many publicists have been blue-pilled to believe that social media metrics matter more than writing ability is an unfortunate byproduct of the Internet Age and something that I’m up against on a daily basis.

When Paul Giamatti’s character in “The Holdovers” tells his boss that he won’t sacrifice his integrity on the altar of his students’ entitlement, the same sentiment applies here. Too many media outlets have sacrificed whatever integrity they have left in an attempt to further the amoral worldview of their financial benefactors and anyone who questions the status quo is dismissed with prejudice.

If I had to give advice to someone just starting out, I would first ask them why they want to get into this mess to begin with. Anyone can regurgitate press releases and take selfies with the band, but, if you really want to contribute something meaningful, you need to have something to say and be relentless in your pursuit of a higher standard. There are countless places in Western New York where people can read about music, but I’d like to think that my voice and willingness to tackle topics in a unique way are what make my site worthy of your time. I feel like quitting every time I sit down at the keyboard, but there’s something inside of me that won’t allow that to happen.

Another thing younger writers need to understand is that no one cares about what you’re writing as much as you do, so try not to get upset if a friend or family member doesn’t react as excitedly as you want them to. You’re competing for their attention as much as anyone else’s. It’s not lost on me that my obsession has likely exhausted those around me at one time or another during the past 15 years, but that’s inevitable when you’re this passionate about something. You tend to be laser-focused on certain things at the expense of others regardless of how well-intentioned you think you are.

Because of that, I’d like to thank everyone for their support through the years and stress that I’ve never taken any of this for granted. As I head into my 16th year feeling as confident as I ever have in my writing despite the algorithm’s plot to suppress contrarian opinions, I assure you that everything you read will be authentically constructed should you choose to subscribe. I treat every article like an exorcism in which the demon won’t be driven out until the words are exactly where I want them to be.

My introversion has complicated my relationships since I was a kid, but, if you ever see me out at a show, don’t hesitate to say hello. Like Jules Winnfield in “Pulp Fiction,” I’m trying real hard to be the shepherd.

For other random pieces from my career, check these out:

https://niagarafallsreporter.com/memorial10.11.11.html

https://niagarafallsreporter.com/cover7.12.11.html

https://niagarafallsreporter.com/memorial8.16.11.html

https://whatculture.com/author/david-hens