Being a reporter can often feel like being a teenager. Well, a kind of sad teenager, anyway.
Journalists spend a lot of time waiting by the phone and whining, "Why won't he call me?" and being the embodiment of a sad-face emoticon. (Yes, this is different from just looking sad.) Sometimes people don't call back or just disappear when it comes time for an interview. It's fine. Shit happens.
But the proverbial poo tends to happen a bit more when musicians are involved, because they are a special breed of human -- even though they're not likely to miss a gig unless someone is dying. Here are the main reasons why:
Fans are more fun than reporters
Reporters ask a lot of stupid questions, and when they're not asking stupid questions, they're asking intrusive questions. For example: "Where does your band name come from?" And, "how did your arrest affect the new record?"
Fans have stupid questions, too, but they're ego-boosting stupid questions. For example: "Can I buy you a drink?" And, "do you wanna go home with me?"
Reporters have afternoon deadlines. This is too early
An 11 a.m. interview is rarely appealing to someone who didn't go sleep until 6 a.m. -- and most certainly did not go to sleep sober. Some well-rested musicians can't even get up before noon. Waking up for an interview throws off the nocturnal sleep cycle. Showing up for sound check at 7 p.m. does not.
Some gigs come with bar tabs. Interviews do not
Sure, you can grab a beer or two with a reporter, but you can bet she's not buying. The bar the band's playing, on the other hand, might. And if not, begging someone to bring you a drink between songs almost always works.
The thing is, reporters want to drink as much as the band does. Let's work this one out.
Both sides are known to forget. All involved parties should write things down somewhere other than on their hands, and maybe lay off the drugs a bit. The fun part about people forgetting is the fake emergencies they make up to excuse it.
"Ah, man, so sorry about that. You wouldn't believe it -- I was walking down the street when I saw some corgi puppies being bullied by Bill O'Reilly, so I had to save them before he got so puffed up with rage that he literally exploded, killing them all. The mayor found out, so I had to go to city hall to receive a medal for heroism from Batman."