I'VE HAD ENOUGH (OI OI OI OI)

After months of posting half-assed gobbledygook such as crosswords and word finds, I think it’s safe to say I’ve hit a rut with this Substack page…and writing in general. Lately, maintaining this newsletter is a chore to me – something I have to do rather than something I want to do while writing about music for other outlets is like playing a game of Mad Libs minus the fun and excessive use of the words ‘poo’ and ‘ass’. I find myself recycling phrases and observations to the point of near self-plagiarism. 

And for what? 

I’ve written about Hardcore punk since the age of fourteen and penned three books on the subject. I’ve done at least six fanzines that I can remember (I’m sure someone will correct my count by digging out some forgotten, highly embarrassing gem). The list of media conglomerates I’ve written for is actually impressive when you see it on paper and/or on a screen. I’ve actually received accolades for some of these accomplishments, and whether or not they were authentic or phony as fuck, I am grateful for them. A dingus such as myself should have been happy with those achievements and left well enough alone. Long story short: I’ve been writing for over thirty-five years and it’s no longer fun. I have nothing to prove anymore. I need a break. 

So, for now, I am pulling the plug on No Idols being a paid newsletter and freezing the billing cycles for all paying subscribers. I might still send out posts when the mood hits me, and maybe if Tonya gets his groove back, I’ll feel confident enough to bring No Idols back as a thing people pay for. But right now, I don’t need the burden or pressure to entertain anyone. Once the decks are cleared of any writing I owe others, it’s time to cook up a respectable plan to stay busy into my twilight years. Writing about musicians who technically could be my children or creepy older uncles is not cutting it for me anymore. 

Hopefully, I figure something out. If not, I’ll see you back here when I return to give a five-star review to Off’s eighth album, More Songs About Songs From Forty Years Ago, or hawk my line of g-strings with Hardcore bands’ logos on them entitled Bologna Bags Unlimited. But let’s keep the faith I get into building birdhouses instead.