I’m sure it feels like second nature now to hit post on a piece of writing, but just putting your thoughts and feelings out into the world like this shows the conviction and thought and confidence that’s put into your work. I don’t know you, never will, but your dedication to being yourself and then putting it in writing is impressive, and cool as hell, so I hope you keep doing it, just writing through this (temporary) crisis of talent.
At risk of reply guy-ing, did you read your Brian Wilson piece? That was great writing.
Writing about hardcore is really fucking hard though. Punk and hardcore are things I (we?) found as “secret handshake” things so both describing them for a wider audience and seeing them packaged for a wider audience feels like a betrayal and the sanitation is viscerally galling.
At the same time, I’m constantly fighting my impulse to shit on something because it’s unfamiliar. I did that all the time when I was 23 and, despite Pat being a friend, I missed Have Heart completely (amazingcore bullshit? screw that I’m gonna dumb mosh to Generation by Fucked Up three times in the same set). Where is the line among taste, gatekeeping, protecting a culture, and evolution? Hell if I know, but your conclusion in the original piece could be paraphrased as “if this had nothing to do with something I care about and have identified with deeply, it wouldn’t be so bad.” And that’s a pretty reasonable take.
I actually think the thought process that leads to “what would have to change for me to like this?” is an interesting one. Way better than “is turnstile ruining hardcore?” “Is turnstile hardcore?” or “is turnstile the savior of hardcore?”
My name is John Lott. We met several times while covering baseball for The Athletic in Toronto and New York. You’re a helluva writer. I thought your Yankees coverage was terrific. And I’ve enjoyed your work in this space, even when you tackle subjects in which I usually have little interest.
In 2020, I retired at age 76, relieved much more than I expected after covering baseball for 20 years. I don't miss it at all. But for the most part, I loved that job because I love the game and I was given the freedom to write about the people and things I wanted to write about. But I surely had periods of angst when I felt like I’d lost my edge or believed writing about baseball was not a worthwhile pursuit. I never felt I was nearly as good a reporter and writer as other folks seemed to think. Close friends helped me through those periods.
On several occasions, after reading one of your columns here, I was tempted to write some nice things in the comments section. This time I decided to follow through, having read your Brian Wilson piece and today’s column in short order.
The Wilson piece was absolutely brilliant. I’ve been a Wilson fan for a long time. I came to your piece after reading several Wilson obits and wondered what you might conjure that I hadn’t read before. Your remembrance blew me away. I loved the writing, the nuance, the integrity of the piece. It might have been my favourite of the columns you’ve written in this space.
If I tried to write a review of your review of Brian Wilson’s life and musical genius, it would accomplish little more than exposing my own shortcomings as a writer and thinker. I know my limits. Suffice to say I wish that what you wrote – and what you write in Critical Thinking generally – could reach a larger audience.
When I felt I was failing to meet my own standards in my work, depression would often set in, not that many folks knew. But very early in my career, I decided that the only way to pull out of that abyss (yes, that’s the word) was not only to keep plugging away (trite advice, I know) but also to set for myself a challenge that intimidated me, even scared me a bit. Do something bigger and a tad uncomfortable, I told myself. Often that worked for me. I don't know whether it would work for others. But it seems that's what you're doing in this space with almost everything you write, and yes, I know that can turn into agony at times.
I barely know you, but I can assure you that you’re good at this. Whatever process you followed to produce that Wilson piece (and in so little time), I’d suggest that you bottle it and take a sip each time you do some Critical Thinking and writing. As the ol’ baseball coaches say about a struggling hitter, it’s in there, you just have to find a way to bring it out. I’m confident you will and will feel good about it.
I’m sure it feels like second nature now to hit post on a piece of writing, but just putting your thoughts and feelings out into the world like this shows the conviction and thought and confidence that’s put into your work. I don’t know you, never will, but your dedication to being yourself and then putting it in writing is impressive, and cool as hell, so I hope you keep doing it, just writing through this (temporary) crisis of talent.
At risk of reply guy-ing, did you read your Brian Wilson piece? That was great writing.
Writing about hardcore is really fucking hard though. Punk and hardcore are things I (we?) found as “secret handshake” things so both describing them for a wider audience and seeing them packaged for a wider audience feels like a betrayal and the sanitation is viscerally galling.
At the same time, I’m constantly fighting my impulse to shit on something because it’s unfamiliar. I did that all the time when I was 23 and, despite Pat being a friend, I missed Have Heart completely (amazingcore bullshit? screw that I’m gonna dumb mosh to Generation by Fucked Up three times in the same set). Where is the line among taste, gatekeeping, protecting a culture, and evolution? Hell if I know, but your conclusion in the original piece could be paraphrased as “if this had nothing to do with something I care about and have identified with deeply, it wouldn’t be so bad.” And that’s a pretty reasonable take.
I actually think the thought process that leads to “what would have to change for me to like this?” is an interesting one. Way better than “is turnstile ruining hardcore?” “Is turnstile hardcore?” or “is turnstile the savior of hardcore?”
Lindsey:
My name is John Lott. We met several times while covering baseball for The Athletic in Toronto and New York. You’re a helluva writer. I thought your Yankees coverage was terrific. And I’ve enjoyed your work in this space, even when you tackle subjects in which I usually have little interest.
In 2020, I retired at age 76, relieved much more than I expected after covering baseball for 20 years. I don't miss it at all. But for the most part, I loved that job because I love the game and I was given the freedom to write about the people and things I wanted to write about. But I surely had periods of angst when I felt like I’d lost my edge or believed writing about baseball was not a worthwhile pursuit. I never felt I was nearly as good a reporter and writer as other folks seemed to think. Close friends helped me through those periods.
On several occasions, after reading one of your columns here, I was tempted to write some nice things in the comments section. This time I decided to follow through, having read your Brian Wilson piece and today’s column in short order.
The Wilson piece was absolutely brilliant. I’ve been a Wilson fan for a long time. I came to your piece after reading several Wilson obits and wondered what you might conjure that I hadn’t read before. Your remembrance blew me away. I loved the writing, the nuance, the integrity of the piece. It might have been my favourite of the columns you’ve written in this space.
If I tried to write a review of your review of Brian Wilson’s life and musical genius, it would accomplish little more than exposing my own shortcomings as a writer and thinker. I know my limits. Suffice to say I wish that what you wrote – and what you write in Critical Thinking generally – could reach a larger audience.
When I felt I was failing to meet my own standards in my work, depression would often set in, not that many folks knew. But very early in my career, I decided that the only way to pull out of that abyss (yes, that’s the word) was not only to keep plugging away (trite advice, I know) but also to set for myself a challenge that intimidated me, even scared me a bit. Do something bigger and a tad uncomfortable, I told myself. Often that worked for me. I don't know whether it would work for others. But it seems that's what you're doing in this space with almost everything you write, and yes, I know that can turn into agony at times.
I barely know you, but I can assure you that you’re good at this. Whatever process you followed to produce that Wilson piece (and in so little time), I’d suggest that you bottle it and take a sip each time you do some Critical Thinking and writing. As the ol’ baseball coaches say about a struggling hitter, it’s in there, you just have to find a way to bring it out. I’m confident you will and will feel good about it.
Cheers,
John
Hi, I didn't receive this one via email. Noticed a post on Bluesky. First time this has happened.
yeah, i chose not to send this via email. felt a little…… aggressive. but maybe not!