Molly Long examines the current state of masculinity in the music industry.

“When guys find out that there are cool girls that listen to cool music, they’re going to listen to those girls more than the guys that they’re jealous of,” says Chris Ott, coasting on the internet controversy surrounding his Shallow Rewards video in an interview for Impose last week. He later adds, “The guys chase the girls.” In a year where a virtual cottage industry has been built on painstaking semiotic analyses of women in pop culture, I need hardly explain why these statements are, shall we say, problematic.

If you’re a woman in the music industry (or, really, in any industry), you’re probably familiar with this handy trope. A woman succeeded at something? It must only be because she’s a woman! We all know how being a woman makes it way easier to succeed at things.

The sexism of these comments aside, Ott’s video may be asking some necessary questions about the current state of music journalism and the industry in general. After all, it’s not a complete waste of time to point out the role of branding and corporate money in the functioning of the industry. I hesitate at his proposition that we all go unpaid and write our thoughts about music on Tumblr, thereby deprofessionalizing music journalism, but the money structure is at least worthy of discussion.

Unfortunately, Ott’s points are overshadowed completely by both his combative demeanor and his overt misogyny. He appears to be the worst possible messenger for his cause or any other because he can’t wade out of his own machismo long enough to present his opinions like an adult. If he weren’t so busy hurling accusations and bickering with his Twitter followers, people might be more inclined to engage with his ideas. It would seem the Angry Music Journalist Dude archetype he embodies has fallen out of fashion, and in this case, thank god for fashion.

If the current climate is any indication, perhaps there are new alternatives to this aggressive hyper-masculinity and its accompanying tendency to subjugate women. As Drake’s fame has increased, for example, so has his sensitive guy reputation. The fact that he can be called one of our dominant male pop stars says a lot about our acceptance of men who don’t play by the standard rulebook of masculinity. Cultural idols would be nothing without their audience’s identification with and emulation of them. If Romanticism spawned countless dramatic, ostentatious faux Lord Byrons, the peak of rock and roll similarly spawned endless crops of swaggering, womanizing Mick Jaggers. Drake, along with gentle R&B types like Miguel and Justin Timberlake, show us an alternative way for men to behave. I can only hope their fame will produce more imitators than Robin Thicke’s.

This was also a year where we rehashed the old battle between popism (or ‘poptimism’ if you want to be cute about it) and rockism, the prevailing attitude of the aforementioned Angry Music Journalist Dude that discredits most music outside the emotional range of aggression, frustration, or cool detachment. As R&B continued to increase in popularity and R. Kelly headlined Pitchfork Festival, we reconsidered the sexism, racism, and classism that can go along with dismissing music based solely on its popularity or genre. Rock-centric critics now seem dated, arbitrary and limited in scope, and we’re more likely to see a diverse mixture of genres and levels of popularity on the most relevant and interesting year-end lists.

In the day-to-day grind of the music industry, however, the sex-drugs-and-rock-n-roll model of behavior, a prevailing male fantasy, still dominates many interactions, creating an inhospitable environment for women. In a heartbreaking Tumblr entry earlier this year, Grimes described succinctly her struggle against being infantilized, objectified and threatened as a female musician. When I read it, I felt a strong identification with it, as did undoubtedly many other readers. (When I went on tour with my band for a month this summer—a band that I started and in which I sing, play guitar, and write most of the songs—I was repeatedly asked if I was someone’s girlfriend who had tagged along.) Because of the industry’s culture of masculinity, there is an ungodly quantity of smarmy men who interpret the initiation of a conversation as an offer for a sexual encounter. It is frustrating to try to network with someone who is attempting to sleep with you. Surrounded by men who behave this way, women sometimes put as much energy into warding off threats and alienation as we do into making and promoting our music. No matter how much respect we garner, there is still a chance we will face arbitrary roadblocks that hinder our maneuvering.

Still, as always, plenty of women have defied the odds and received the respect and acclaim they deserve. That women have made an enormous amount of fantastic music this year is almost beside the point. After all, this is true every year. The only thing that changes is how seriously this music is taken and what it has to say. Sure, I could discuss Julia Holter, Jessy Lanza, FKA twigs, Janelle Monáe, Pharmakon, Chelsea Wolfe, Julianna Barwick, Emily Reo, Body/Head, HAIM, etc.—but that would imply they are all part of some new phenomenon. Women have always been making interesting music and will continue to do so. And perhaps now, despite the challenges, it is a little easier to forge ahead than it used to be. Some men will inevitably continue to disrespect women, but they will ultimately be doing a disservice to themselves—these days, at least, there are internet armies waiting to tear them apart.