As unfortunately predicted here, The Village Voice sinks deeper into inanity with the firing of Bob Christgau today. A fucking shame, really.
Dear Friends and Colleagues,
If this comes completely out of the blue, I apologize.
It is now official--Village Voice Media fired me today, "for
taste," which means (among other things) slightly sweeter
severance. This despite the support of new music editor Rob
Harvilla, who I like as a person and a writer. We both believed I
had won myself some kind of niche as gray eminence. So I was
surprised Tuesday when I was among the eight Voice employees
(five editorial, three art) who were instructed to bring their
union reps to a meeting with upper management today. But I
certainly wasn't shocked--my approach to music coverage has never
been much like that of the New Times papers,
Bless the union, my severance is substantial enough to give me
time to figure out what I'm doing next. In fact, having finished
all my freelance reviews yesterday, I don't have a single
assignment pending. So, since I have no intention of giving up
rock criticism, all reasonable offers entertained; my phone
number is in the book, as they used to say when there were books.
What I don't need is a vacation--the three of us just had a great
two and a half weeks, and Nina matriculated at BMCC yesterday.
No need to respond. Forward to whoever you will.
Down but not out, I think The Dean has a few surprises left for us. Note to the vultures at New Times: keep your mitts off Sietsema and Hoberman (I now notice well loved film and book critic Ed Park was also let go, he will be missed).