The uniquely universal experience of university is the worry about what’s to come. The idea of working is not the contributor to this concern, but rather the antithesis. Every industry has become competitive. There is no longer the safety net of a STEM degree like computer science, nor is the media industry any more open than before. It’s why opportunities to glance at the other side, to see the successful professionals who made it out of the cluster of applications, cover letters and inevitable rejections, were such a moment of admiration and ambition for me, of what life could look like eventually.Â
In my first year of university, I am not shy to admit, I mistakenly did not focus on my course. Instead, I dove headfirst into the blinding lights of the media industry: radio, television and newspapers. And though this year I am committed to realigning myself to my studies, it did end up being for the best. I was honoured by Lara Talbot, the beloved Head of Music of Leeds Student Television, to represent the society at Leeds Festival by interviewing artists for press coverage. The deputy head of the society, Alfie, alongside Lara and me, would stay the weekend in guest camping, waking up each day at nine to promptly be in the press tent for ten, ready to snag any artists who naively walk in like interviewing vultures. There were a few groups of us students, York Radio, Leeds Radio and us, banding together in a sandwich of impressive professionals who were treating the festival as their average workday. These were the people I dream of being. While seemingly stressed, they worked methodically, furiously typing on their laptops, editing pictures, attending to the mics and tripods, and generally speaking, prepared and professional. I’m incredibly grateful for these industry pros. I fear I’m a chronic networker, yet these pros were happy to chat, to guide and advise about the next steps to look forward. Beyond this, they’d praise us for a particularly good interview, taking us students under their wings as if caring for their own aspirational selves when they were in our same eager position.Â
Our merry band of students planned many a hypothetical interview, many without fruition, simply for the possibility. I’m happy to say Lara had given us a foot up amongst the rest with her planning, having already emailed many agents and publicists on arranging interviews, so in the end, we managed an impressive thirteen. To be clear, this is impressive due to the lack of certainty that these interviews would actually happen, the lugging of technology around the festival grounds, dodging sixteen-year-olds with dust filling our lungs, and the nightmare of speed-organising interviews Lara had to accomplish. The easy part was the interviews themselves.
It’s not a glaze to say every artist we interviewed was lovely. My fellow student press also had the following experience. Genuinely grateful, patient and not rude in the slightest at our amateur antics. As emphasised previously, there was truly no guarantee for these interviews, and the first day was especially solemn, watching acts come and go by in the press tent. We were, of course, grateful just to be there, but it also felt like we were failing at the job we’d been sent there to do. Then, in a flurry, as good things typically do, we scored six. One after the other, Alfie manning the camera as Lara, and I jumped between interviewing and planning. My last interview of that Friday was Nell Mescal, whom I introduced the concept of the Otley Run to, since she is coming to Brudenell Social Club in November. I couldn’t express in words how admirable this woman, not too much older than I, is. Prior to the interview, I learned she moved to London, exiting full-time education to pursue her career in music, all at the age of eighteen. She characterised the experience as daunting, but I don’t believe this expresses how brave, although privileged, it is to make a decision like that. It’s the ultimate version of the courage needed to stick it out through university when away from home.Â
Another artist I found particularly interesting was Nxdia. When I began to plan for her, I didn’t realise how big a fan I already was. This was due to most of her music already having gone viral on TikTok, and my first thought would be that she’d see it as a negative, as a way of reducing her music to some thirty-second trend. This is not how she sees it at all. Instead, she spun a respectably positive outlook on the subject, commenting that artists are pushed to promote themselves all over the app, so it shouldn’t be a negative thing when that does work for them. I appreciated that she didn’t have the same disapproving eye as others in the music industry when it comes to the rise of social media vs traditional media. This is a consistently conflicting dichotomy within the music industry, a war that artists are caught in the crossfire of, from Nxdia’s perspective.Â
The most common theme I encountered during that weekend, when I found myself in the industry, was female ambition. Not to say in any way that men do not have ambition, as this would be a blatant lie, but it’s more from a position of putting yourself out there and doing so unapologetically. Something that every woman there had to do, whether it be a press professional, a headlining artist, or me.
Editor: Tamima Islam