It was a cold January day outside of the Mohawk in 2012 when I decided to become ‘the enemy’ – a music journalist. The band I was in line to see, Reptar, strummed their opening chords and I realized I’d most likely miss their entire set as the line slowly percolated inside. My impatience and frustration necessitated immediate solutions, and I was searching for any possible angle when I saw a photographer casually cut the entire line and walk inside. After finally making it inside myself, I accosted and peppered the photographer with with questions about his perceived preeminence in concert lines. The answers he gave me danced with possibility — “Yeah dude, I get free tickets to any show I want WITH drink tickets! You just submit photos or a show review to whichever publication you’re working for”. For a broke music fan who was scalping other tickets to pay for his own, this was my personal slightly less awe-inspiring ‘sermon on the mount’. I had not studied journalism, and I was doing tech sales at a startup, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the endless possibilities that the golden ticket of being a ‘music journalist’ offered. I had strong opinions on music, a high degree of FOMO, and an empty bank account… Three symptoms that likely lead to and persist when exploring music journalism.