Soundbites: Surf's Up With TEKE::TEKE

I used to think being a music journalist meant being a cross between an anthropologist and a private eye. Before going to a show or listening to a new album, I'd spend days researching the band. I'd obsess over influences and try to decode the musical DNA. I'd take deep dives into the home scene, be it Chapel Hill, N.C.; Los Angeles; or the Azawagh desert in Niger. I'd even sully myself and delve into social media and Reddit threads — which may or may not have been a habit I developed after one too many bands got canceled after I was preparing to write about them. That rigorous preparation felt like something the profession deserved, even as the profession seemed to be fading away. I'll admit I was momentarily taken aback when Pitchfork got folded into GQ a few months ago, but there was also a dreadful inevitability to it, like watching a wrestler with a folding chair getting ready to hit his opponent in the back. Rob Harvilla, the former Village Voice music editor and now a senior staff writer at pop culture site the Ringer, recently declared that "journalism is collapsing" on his podcast "60 Songs That Explain the '90s." Instead of doing a spit take in my kitchen or shouting out an ironclad denial, I just shrugged, lowered my head like Charlie Brown and mumbled, "Shaddup, Rob" under my breath. I have no clue if he was being dramatic or prophetic. But I do know that being a music journalist has felt increasingly dystopian over the past few years. Which is weird, because I've been wearing less leather, if anything. Also, I haven't seen a mohawk in this town since 2022, but I'm digressing. My point is, I don't know if Rob is right and journalism is collapsing, but it sure as hell is changing. And as the nature of covering music has changed, so has my approach. Don't get me wrong — I still obsess and research bands. Most music journos I know were doing that long before they started writing about it. But I've learned to allow myself to be more and more surprised these days. It's a habit Montréal taught me. I've been heading north to visit our friendly Canadian neighbors and their vibrant music scene since I moved to Vermont in 2001. That in no way makes me an expert —…