clap clap blog: we have moved

Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Just had the in-office company holiday party. The food was good, but when we all sat down someone put on the Rolling Stones, who, needless to say, are not our artists. After a few verses of "Start Me Up" this was remarked upon and some Christmas jazz music was put on.

I hate my job.

"Is this [our artist]?" I asked the PR person next to me. She turned her palms upward in a way that indicated that she probably should know, but didn't. "I assume it's [our artist]," she said, "but I technically wouldn't know. I'm not proud of that, but you reach a certain point in being a PR person that you don't really need to listen to the music to promote it." I told her it was just a sign she'd attained a higher level of PR skill.

Later, a new signee came in and played for us. It was extremely elementary-schooly. There we were in a small room with the chairs cleared from the middle, in the early afternoon, with flourescent lights overhead and food and paper plates scattered about, sitting patiently while an earnest man with an acoustic guitar sang to us. No one really looked like they were enjoying it, and we did a lot of looking around at each other awkwardly. We didn't have to be told to clap at the end, but of course, that's sort of the point of a job: you just know you have to clap.