I won something?!? I won something!!!

I thought awards weren't worth fighting for. I was wrong!

Kia ora!

On Tuesday night, as I gathered up my stuff and stepped off a flight from Pōneke, my phone started pinging. A stream of messages unfurled across my screen: “Congratulations!” “Well deserved!” “Proud of you, mate!” They were from friends attending the Taite Music Prize ceremony, a place where something special happened. After 25 years in journalism, I have received my first award, the NZ On Air Outstanding Music Journalism trophy, for this newsletter you’re reading right now.

I thought it might happen in 2018. Back then, I believed I was on something of a roll. Across the year, I’d written what I considered to be four of the best stories I thought I could ever write. They included a Herald on Sunday investigation into the rogue rap troupe Red Eye Society, a Canvas cover story on the comedian Josh Thomson, a lengthy feature on the demise of the Kings Arms, and an in-depth profile of Apple Music’s head honcho, the New Zealand-born DJ Zane Lowe.

This was it, I thought, my perfect portfolio, my moment. These were the best stories I had written. I was the best journalist I was ever going to be. This was my peak, my time to shine. There was no way the judges could ignore me. I sent off a nomination for the Voyager Media Awards certain I’d be nominated, positive it would be me hearing my name called, then walking up to the podium to accept my trophy and glow in the accolades of my peers.

You can guess what happened next: nothing, zilch, nada. I didn’t get that nomination. I didn’t receive an award. I didn’t even get invited to the ceremony that year. In that moment, I realised something important: I don’t do this for the accolades. I show up here and obsess about music at a level that borders on the unhealthy because it’s something I need to do. An award wouldn’t change that, so I decided it didn’t matter. I stopped entering them.

Eight years after deciding I didn’t need an award, I won an award. Sitting here today, I can’t help but notice the irony that the stories I thought were the best I’d ever written, and appeared on the biggest platforms, didn’t get the recognition I thought they deserved. Instead, it’s here, with my super personal lil’ newsletter, where I try to unpack the best and worst of this wayward, wonky, wonderful music industry of ours, with my name at the top of every single edition, that’s ended up doing it.

Turns out, it feels pretty good to win an award!

Me, Karl Puschmann, and Murray Cammick. Photo: Leesa Tilley.

So, forgive me if I get a little soppy for a minute, but this newsletter doesn’t exist without all of you. Everyone who shows up here, who reads these stories, who contributes to the chats, who shares their opinions, who sends me their concert reviews (love that!), who drops me a quick tip, flicks me a link to a new artist or album I might like, who likes and subscribes and shares, has, in their own way, contributed to making this what it is. It’s a cliché, but without you, this doesn’t work.

It also doesn’t work without all of the artists who agree to talk to me, who show up to have super-emo chats at my local, the Waterview Coffee Project, where I have worked through some heavy life stuff with Jon Toogood, who won the Independent Music NZ Classic Record for Shihad’s Killjoy last night, and Tiopira McDowell, who took home the Taite Prize last night for his incredible album, Mokotron’s Waerea. (You can find the rest of the night’s big winners here.)

Those chats have helped me process the last couple of years. I know many of you will be nodding in agreement here, but it’s been the most tumultuous, turbulent and, at times, traumatic period of my life (hi, Mike). Writing this newsletter has been cathartic. Knowing there’s a community of like-minded, generous souls here ready to discuss the best things in life has kept me going. I know I’ve spent a lot of time complaining about the state of music journalism, but, along the way, I hope I’ve also done something about it, found a way forward and kept that candle burning.

I showed up too late to accept my award last night, but if I had that chance, I’d thank my wife Heather, my first subscriber who fixes all of my silly typos often very late at night, my son, who isn’t afraid to tell me exactly how whack my social media game is, and my good friend Karl Puschmann, who stepped up to accept the award on my behalf, despite also being nominated in the same category. (Karl’s awesome: go subscribe to his excellent Substacks Pixelfix and ScreenCrack; you’ll like him a lot.)

So, this award has my name on it, but it should have all your names on it too. I truly couldn’t have done any of it without all of you.

I can’t wait to see where we take this thing next.

Ngā mihi.

Chris

If you think you’d enjoy regular dispatches from the frontlines of Aotearoa’s music industry, you can sign up to receive those right here. Thanks to everyone who contributes to keep my lil’ newsletter going. It means everything that I get to do this. I appreciate every single one of you…