The following is an open letter of sorts in response to the “The Day the Music Died” piece in the April issue of Portland Monthly. It’s not on their site, so I cannot link to it. My apologies. But you can pick up the issue at your local Zupan’s checkout stand, or wherever fine publications are sold.

Hey Bart
Someone here at the office just showed me a copy of the latest Portland Monthly, and I read your article on local music (“The Day the Music Died”), which took me by surprise for a couple reasons. First off, I thought you were better than the same old “waaaahhhh I’m old, and music isn’t what it used to be” piece. In fact, I’ve been reading your work for years now, long before you moved to Portland. I even sent you complimentary emails about your pieces, since I’m a huge fan. Secondly, well, it’s because you call me out in the article. Not me specifically, I guess, but a “music writer for Portland Mercury.” Being the editor of that music section here at the paper, I suppose I should compose some sort of rebuttal.

Hmm, how should that go? How about this?

Fuck you.

I know, I know, music critic fights are about as entertaining as two guys in wizard costumes going at it in the parking lot at the Renaissance Fair. And I don't want to throw down, but seriously, fuck you for that slab of lazy, hackneyed music writing. You are so much better than this.

How age and apathy are killing Portland's music scene

While that might be the case for you personally, it is hardly the truth. Have you ever been to an all-age show at the Artistery when it's packed to the gills with kids? Or what about the suburban kids with the unfortunate haircuts who congregate at the punk shows at Satyricon or Hawthorne Theatre? Please tell me you've at least been to one Rock and Roll Camp for Girls showcase, or a spent an inspiring day at PDX Pop Now? Probably not, but if you had you would have witnessed a glimpse of a youthful, apathy-free future for Portland music.

Listen, the scene is not forever. We all get older and part of that is coming to terms with the fact that we don't go out as much as we used to. I know, you are in your mid-30s, have a flat-screen TV, stable relationship, and those fancy bed sheets with the high thread count, so why the fuck would you want to head to a smoky bar to see a band play at 1am on a Tuesday? Isn't that a work night? If you stay out that late, you'll miss Morning Edition on NPR.

There is a vast music scene in this town, and just because you think that the bands and their fans aren't as reckless and crazy as they were in your totally awesome youth—with those "real rock shows of yesteryear"—it doesn't make it so. Plus you named three bands in your piece (Spoon, Wilco, Arcade Fire), two of which aren't exactly known for their riveting live shows.

Also, what business do you have accusing "today's plugged-in easy listeners" (old critic speak for "kids") of being apathetic? Sure, maybe all the 16-year-old kids in town weren't shitting themselves to drop $25 to see Wilco lull the crowd to sleep at the Edgefield (sorry, I love that band to death, but Sky Blue Sky is like a handful of Ambien), but it doesn't mean that kids in Portland no longer care. They just don't care about what you are listening to. Or used to listen to.

If the teenagers scare you, yelling at them to stay off your lawn and waxing on about a time when "finding new music took effort," is just going to make you seem all that much older.

And for that amazing Arcade Fire show you went to, one of the handful of shows that you managed to scrap yourself away from Law & Order in order to attend, it was great. I was there. So was another writer of ours. And lots of young people. It must have been intimidating, I know. But was I the smirking "music writer for the Portland Mercury" that you speak of? I doubt it. But regardless, be careful of assessing a world you no longer know anything about. I don't publish longwinded rants about how apathy and age are killing the Pearl District condo and loft scene (or, how Portland tapas restaurants just aren't what they used to be), I'd appreciate it if you didn't do the same for Portland music.

Thanks.
Ezra A. Caraeff
Music Editor, Portland Mercury