Nerve - Media Analysis 1985

I was a regular contributor to the monthly music paper Nerve while in photo college in Toronto. In the fall of 1985 I analyzed an entire issue for a Media and Society class at Ryerson Polytechnical Institute. The teacher was Murray Pomerance, and the paper was submitted on November 20th.

"Make up a cup of Ovaltine," he suggested. "Sit back in your favorite chair, put your feet up and smoke some good hash. Then you're ready to take in the all-encompassing sensations the Nerve has to offer."

"But I don't like Ovaltine."

Dave Rave was setting me up to truly appreciate the subtle nuances of his monthly Toronto music paper, in which he put "some special bit," just for me. When I told Dave (one of the two Nerve editors) of my 'Media Analysis Project,' he challenged me to find something which would "irritate me enough to bring it to his attention." Fine idea, I should think.

Dave and I have been friends for a few years now and when he started at the Nerve he brought me with him. I had done pictures for him of local musicians and such for a fanzine he had put out previously and so continued to do the same, as well as a few interviews, when he moved to the Nerve. This, of course, adds a special bias to my reading of the paper, not only do I contribute to it but I know a lot of the writers (some of which I've become friends with). This bias, however, was taken into consideration when I analyzed my reading patterns and is discussed here when relevant.

The Nerve comes out (theoretically) at the beginning of each month. By the time it’s come out (which is often up to a week late) I'm usually quite eager to dig in!

Although it is not uncommon that I've read a few pieces ahead of time (if they’re lying around the Nerve office) I make a conscious effort to "read the paper at the breakfast table." I don’t think that says too much about the way I read as it does about my eating habits, that is: breakfast with the Nerve or Toronto Star, supper with Entertainment Tonight. My reading pattern of the Nerve (or probably any magazine or newspaper) is based on a series of scans, or what I like to call "throughs." It’s not uncommon for me to have up to four or five throughs when a good issue comes out, such as the one I read for this assignment.

My first through consists of a quick page-by-page scan of the paper. The purpose of this is to satisfy my curiosity. For example, if I started off reading from the first article on the first page, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate knowing something more interesting may be further on. So once my first through is over I can calmly go back to pieces that previously caught my eye.

But don’t get me wrong, I do read some articles on the first through, just rarely entire ones. As I go along, I look for keywords and images. These fit into different categories with varying levels of importance. Things that relate to me personally, articles or interviews that I wrote, photographs I took, take first priority.

Up there as well are things that I feel relate to me but in a less direct way, perhaps a review of a show I saw or an album that I bought, a piece about one of my favorite artists. Pieces that readily attract my attention are also those that I have had some sort of previous exposure or interest in (a friend of mine writes an article and tells me something intriguing about it before the paper comes out, an issue that's being talked about a lot in the community is covered).

These three types are generally high attractions for me. On my first through I often start with pieces related to these areas, pick up on keywords (such as musicians' names, recent happenings), and read as long as it’s extremely engrossing. Once I become slightly distracted, I make a mental note to come back, then I move on.

It would be boring for you if I listed all of the articles I read in the first through so I’ll just tell you that they all fell into those three groups I outlined above.

In the second through, some other editing features become more apparent. For example, the visual structuring of a piece will often determine what parts I read. A long piece on Moses Znaimer, for example, had relatively short sections with commentaries and questions and answers at the beginning and end, with one very long answer in the middle.

I skipped the middle and went straight to the conclusion. Words printed with thicker lettering make quick editing possible as well. An interview with Peter Buck, an American musician, discussing Pop-Junk Culture had names of records, television shows, etc., in bold type. This allowed me to easily pick out only the titles that interested me.

As I become relaxed and get into my third and fourth through I become less particular and will read almost anything that is mildly interesting and well written. But a signal that becomes very important by this point (although it played some role previously) is the by-lines. There are really only a couple of writers at the Nerve whose pieces I'll read solely because they wrote them. In fact, there are probably more people that I won't read because of their past efforts. In the situation of people I do read it's not because they're friends of mine, actually my closest friend's work I usually skip. But with the people I don't read it's because they often write like they talk - which can be very irritating.

By the last through I've usually read whatever I made note of on the first couple of throughs. So I give everything a last look, including most ads, to make sure I didn't really miss anything important.

There are a few things that really struck me about my full reading of the Nerve. Reading the whole paper took so long! I was reading in my spare time for almost a week, and that doesn't include the parts I had already read. The length of it is like that of a short novel. I previously had thought that I read most of the Nerve, when I probably read about one third of it.

The second thing I noticed is that it is a (fairly) consistently well-written paper. Most of the pieces that I was forced to read I actually enjoyed, and I wasn’t too conscious of the fact that I had to read them. This state of ignorant bliss was at a disadvantage, however, when I began to automatically edit less interesting bits. I went back to cover the parts I skipped, of course, but it’s very difficult to concentrate on something you really don’t want to read (ie. the full page of club listings for the month). Along with long listings and similar items I found a few write-ups quite tedious to get through.

Through a process of trial and error I’ve developed a system of signals (as described in the preceding paragraphs) that suggest whether something is worth going through, and if so - how far.

Approaching the Nerve in these two different ways made me question my reading habits. Was I missing anything important? I’d have to say no. Although I found most of the material that I was forced to read enjoyable, that has to be taken within the context that I had to read it anyways and I was probably happy to have something with any substance whatsoever.

But in another way, I failed; for I never found the bit Dave Rave put in for me. Thank God I didn’t put any money on it.

Handwritten by professor: This has some interest but you largely omit discussion of what IMPORTANCE is for you and how this map either does or does not CONTAIN it. In short, what's the underlying principle that’s already structuring your reading? The concept of through is useful, but unclearly defined.

Top Image: Dave Rave (MacIntosh), Nerve co-editor, Toronto, ON, mid-eighties.

Second Image: Nerve cover, for the issue that I analyzed for the Media & Society project. Image courtesy Scott Woods.

Bottom Image: A page from the original submitted report.