ChaosResolved
06-13-2006, 11:48 AM
The Aesthetics of Critiquing Music, and the Dilemma Facing the Online Music Community.
The Internet is now ubiquitous. It’s changed media, how we’re exposed to media and how we digest what we’re exposed to. And because the Internet is everywhere and virtually anyone with a modem can connect to the Web and share his or her thoughts on any subject, the line of who is and who isn’t a media person, be them a journalist or critic, has become blurred. In fact, in the realm of indie-media, or DIY media (like webzines), I would argue no clear line even exists outlining who is and isn’t a media person.
This is troublesome and unsettling. This means that unqualified, unskilled people are exposing you to media and/or opinions without the proper training and, often, without the proper knowledge. In the news business, that’s flat-out frightening because that form of media, news, operates as the framework for people in our society (people who actually give a damn and pay attention to political and social issues) to formulate their opinions on civic and societal issues, and it also influences a person’s personal politics. One could argue, however, that digital, DIY media tends to be closer to the truth (if there is such a thing and if such a thing is even attainable) because it’s unrestrained from the bottom-line seeking media corporations who are careful about watching their asses, and adhere diligently to censorship and agenda setting.
But, that’s a topic too heavy for this article. I would instead like to focus on something more apparent and relevant to the website you’re reading this article on. But it is, though, an issue that’s directly related to this saturation in media. It’s something that concerns me because I’m active in it, and concerns you because you’re reading this on a music website. It’s also a direct result from this aforementioned saturation in online media: This issue is bad music writing.
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed a slew of music writers emerging with keyboard in-hand who are, frankly, unskilled in writing about music. A lot of the writing is so bad, I question whether many of these critics have ever read music criticism before, aside from the occasional thumbing through of quasi-music mags like Spin, Alternative Press or Rolling Stone. Few, it seems, write within the framework that’s been constructed and established over the years by music critics (like Paul Williams, Dave Fricke, Jim DeRogatis and Lester Bangs). Many seem to be writing blindly, without a roadmap.
It would be unfair and out of character of me to name names and point fingers, but I can’t refrain from blowing the whistle on this issue which is eroding music writing today (especially online music writing), allowing a lot bad music to fly under the radar (another form of saturation), and, perhaps most importantly, robbing readers of educated, stylish and informative critical assessments – because that’s really the objective of music criticism: to inform and influence.
To rebound off my last idea of robbing readers of informative analyses: Writing, like most endeavors, is a skill that’s developed with practice (writing a TON, and I would argue writing for years before you even think of publishing), having the right influences (in this case reading good writing; more on that later) and developing the right tools (grammar, style, proper sentence and word structuring, etc).
Now, a lot of online music criticism today reads like shit because it’s either A) heavily clichéd, B) too wordy, or C) not thought out and not written well. Because of the popularity of DIY music webzines, I find the first case to be more prevalent than the others. What’s clichéd? “So-and-so’s heavy and distorted guitar fits so utterly and absolutely perfect with so-and-so’s screaming. The chorus of the song is dreamy and atmospheric.” First of all, 99 percent of rock music today is distorted. So, stating the obvious is pointless unless the obvious is unconventional or unique. And cliché writing is perhaps the worst kind of writing there is. It’s like having sex just in the missionary position, or reading a sappy love poem. The only way to rid this tendency is to read good writing, write, and rewrite (as many times as necessary), then edit, and edit, and edit, over and over and over.
Second, how do those former example sentences hold any significance and allow a reader to gain any knowledge about the music being critiqued? They don’t. One of the keys to writing a good critique – and, really, to writing good journalism – is to show and not tell. When I write, I like to think I’m writing (then reading) to a group of eighth graders who all possess a keen interest in hearing blunt vulgarity, and know nothing about the music in question. And third, and this is a grammar thing, avoid adverbs. They’re weak, sound bad and often create word clutter. Words like: “Absolutely,” “utterly,” “completely,” “totally.” Nearly (I know, not heeding my own advice) all words with an “ly” ending are an adverb. Avoid them.
Another side of bad music writing today is wordy, lengthy reviews that read like fucking short stories with the writer flexing his or her “vast” vocabulary muscle. Nine times out of ten, this type of literary turgidity ends up triumphing actual critical content. Most of us are familiar with Pitchforkmedia.com. When was the last time you read one of their reviews and didn’t find yourself drowning in an abyss of wanna-be incendiary drivel, ending up lost in a puzzle of “what-the-fuck?” A friend of mine recently told me one of their writers writes his reviews around the idea that he’s listening to the music while in his underwear flying solo over Brazil. Creative, but how does that begin to offer readers an honest, crisp and clear critique? Gimmicks like that shouldn’t obstruct the goal of critical honesty. Lengthy and wordy reviews can be good, but accomplish nothing if the writer doesn’t eventually get to the point.
That said, some of the best music criticism I read offline is found in the back of music magazines (like Kerrang!) where writers are forced to summarize a critique in eight or nine sentences. Every word matters in those kinds of reviews, and sometimes I appreciate that style more because, often, it’s harder to write shorthanded, and even harder to write something with substance under that format. With shorthanded music criticism, the point is often clearer and is often achieved without either party (writer or reader) getting lost in elaboration.
And finally, when reviews are not thought out and written poorly: When I read this type of writing it’s like listening to a novice guitar player make an attempt at playing a difficult Slayer riff. I cringe. Thus, just because one knows how to write doesn’t mean one can write well. This brings me to an interesting paradigm between musicians and critics: Music, it seems, is full of talented slackers who know they’re talented but slack anyway, and the realm of music writing is full of ambitious writers who possess little talent. Yet there’s passion for music in much of the music writing I read today, and, of course, this is a good thing. That’s where it all begins. My main qualm with this dilemma, however, is the lack of passion that exists with writing well. If only the two held equal weight with today’s music critics. The way I look at it, this is what makes a good critic: achieving a balance of being passionate about the subject, knowing how to write well, and maintaining the perspective of a fan. When this balance is achieved, real criticism is born.
I hope this article doesn’t come off as pretentious and uncouth, but, again, it’s an issue in the music media world that must be addressed and, hopefully, remedied. My goal here isn’t to mouth-off on this topic presumptuously, and make it appear that I somehow know everything there is to know about music writing, and about being a good critic. Admittedly, I know little. I’m still learning. But I know what I know from the best, and cannot recommend the following books enough to anyone who’s seriously interested in writing about music: Let it Blurt : The Life and Times of Lester Bangs, America's Greatest Rock Critic by Jim DeRogatis; Main Lines, Blood Feasts, and Bad Taste : A Lester Bangs Reader by Lester Bangs and John Morthlanand; We Rock So You Don't Have to: The Option Reader#1 by Scott Becker; Not Fade Away: A Backstage Pass to 20 Years of Rock & Roll by Ben Fong-Torres; and The Crawdaddy! Book: Writings (and Images) from the Magazine of Rock by Paul Williams.
Criticism can be, and often is, a powerful thing. The opportunity to influence opinion, influence the industry, expose shitty music and praise good music is a task that cannot be taken lightly. I think it should be taken seriously. And being passionate about music is the only place to start. But being passionate about writing, and reading good writing, is the only way to write anything worth reading.
--Brent Steven White
The Internet is now ubiquitous. It’s changed media, how we’re exposed to media and how we digest what we’re exposed to. And because the Internet is everywhere and virtually anyone with a modem can connect to the Web and share his or her thoughts on any subject, the line of who is and who isn’t a media person, be them a journalist or critic, has become blurred. In fact, in the realm of indie-media, or DIY media (like webzines), I would argue no clear line even exists outlining who is and isn’t a media person.
This is troublesome and unsettling. This means that unqualified, unskilled people are exposing you to media and/or opinions without the proper training and, often, without the proper knowledge. In the news business, that’s flat-out frightening because that form of media, news, operates as the framework for people in our society (people who actually give a damn and pay attention to political and social issues) to formulate their opinions on civic and societal issues, and it also influences a person’s personal politics. One could argue, however, that digital, DIY media tends to be closer to the truth (if there is such a thing and if such a thing is even attainable) because it’s unrestrained from the bottom-line seeking media corporations who are careful about watching their asses, and adhere diligently to censorship and agenda setting.
But, that’s a topic too heavy for this article. I would instead like to focus on something more apparent and relevant to the website you’re reading this article on. But it is, though, an issue that’s directly related to this saturation in media. It’s something that concerns me because I’m active in it, and concerns you because you’re reading this on a music website. It’s also a direct result from this aforementioned saturation in online media: This issue is bad music writing.
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed a slew of music writers emerging with keyboard in-hand who are, frankly, unskilled in writing about music. A lot of the writing is so bad, I question whether many of these critics have ever read music criticism before, aside from the occasional thumbing through of quasi-music mags like Spin, Alternative Press or Rolling Stone. Few, it seems, write within the framework that’s been constructed and established over the years by music critics (like Paul Williams, Dave Fricke, Jim DeRogatis and Lester Bangs). Many seem to be writing blindly, without a roadmap.
It would be unfair and out of character of me to name names and point fingers, but I can’t refrain from blowing the whistle on this issue which is eroding music writing today (especially online music writing), allowing a lot bad music to fly under the radar (another form of saturation), and, perhaps most importantly, robbing readers of educated, stylish and informative critical assessments – because that’s really the objective of music criticism: to inform and influence.
To rebound off my last idea of robbing readers of informative analyses: Writing, like most endeavors, is a skill that’s developed with practice (writing a TON, and I would argue writing for years before you even think of publishing), having the right influences (in this case reading good writing; more on that later) and developing the right tools (grammar, style, proper sentence and word structuring, etc).
Now, a lot of online music criticism today reads like shit because it’s either A) heavily clichéd, B) too wordy, or C) not thought out and not written well. Because of the popularity of DIY music webzines, I find the first case to be more prevalent than the others. What’s clichéd? “So-and-so’s heavy and distorted guitar fits so utterly and absolutely perfect with so-and-so’s screaming. The chorus of the song is dreamy and atmospheric.” First of all, 99 percent of rock music today is distorted. So, stating the obvious is pointless unless the obvious is unconventional or unique. And cliché writing is perhaps the worst kind of writing there is. It’s like having sex just in the missionary position, or reading a sappy love poem. The only way to rid this tendency is to read good writing, write, and rewrite (as many times as necessary), then edit, and edit, and edit, over and over and over.
Second, how do those former example sentences hold any significance and allow a reader to gain any knowledge about the music being critiqued? They don’t. One of the keys to writing a good critique – and, really, to writing good journalism – is to show and not tell. When I write, I like to think I’m writing (then reading) to a group of eighth graders who all possess a keen interest in hearing blunt vulgarity, and know nothing about the music in question. And third, and this is a grammar thing, avoid adverbs. They’re weak, sound bad and often create word clutter. Words like: “Absolutely,” “utterly,” “completely,” “totally.” Nearly (I know, not heeding my own advice) all words with an “ly” ending are an adverb. Avoid them.
Another side of bad music writing today is wordy, lengthy reviews that read like fucking short stories with the writer flexing his or her “vast” vocabulary muscle. Nine times out of ten, this type of literary turgidity ends up triumphing actual critical content. Most of us are familiar with Pitchforkmedia.com. When was the last time you read one of their reviews and didn’t find yourself drowning in an abyss of wanna-be incendiary drivel, ending up lost in a puzzle of “what-the-fuck?” A friend of mine recently told me one of their writers writes his reviews around the idea that he’s listening to the music while in his underwear flying solo over Brazil. Creative, but how does that begin to offer readers an honest, crisp and clear critique? Gimmicks like that shouldn’t obstruct the goal of critical honesty. Lengthy and wordy reviews can be good, but accomplish nothing if the writer doesn’t eventually get to the point.
That said, some of the best music criticism I read offline is found in the back of music magazines (like Kerrang!) where writers are forced to summarize a critique in eight or nine sentences. Every word matters in those kinds of reviews, and sometimes I appreciate that style more because, often, it’s harder to write shorthanded, and even harder to write something with substance under that format. With shorthanded music criticism, the point is often clearer and is often achieved without either party (writer or reader) getting lost in elaboration.
And finally, when reviews are not thought out and written poorly: When I read this type of writing it’s like listening to a novice guitar player make an attempt at playing a difficult Slayer riff. I cringe. Thus, just because one knows how to write doesn’t mean one can write well. This brings me to an interesting paradigm between musicians and critics: Music, it seems, is full of talented slackers who know they’re talented but slack anyway, and the realm of music writing is full of ambitious writers who possess little talent. Yet there’s passion for music in much of the music writing I read today, and, of course, this is a good thing. That’s where it all begins. My main qualm with this dilemma, however, is the lack of passion that exists with writing well. If only the two held equal weight with today’s music critics. The way I look at it, this is what makes a good critic: achieving a balance of being passionate about the subject, knowing how to write well, and maintaining the perspective of a fan. When this balance is achieved, real criticism is born.
I hope this article doesn’t come off as pretentious and uncouth, but, again, it’s an issue in the music media world that must be addressed and, hopefully, remedied. My goal here isn’t to mouth-off on this topic presumptuously, and make it appear that I somehow know everything there is to know about music writing, and about being a good critic. Admittedly, I know little. I’m still learning. But I know what I know from the best, and cannot recommend the following books enough to anyone who’s seriously interested in writing about music: Let it Blurt : The Life and Times of Lester Bangs, America's Greatest Rock Critic by Jim DeRogatis; Main Lines, Blood Feasts, and Bad Taste : A Lester Bangs Reader by Lester Bangs and John Morthlanand; We Rock So You Don't Have to: The Option Reader#1 by Scott Becker; Not Fade Away: A Backstage Pass to 20 Years of Rock & Roll by Ben Fong-Torres; and The Crawdaddy! Book: Writings (and Images) from the Magazine of Rock by Paul Williams.
Criticism can be, and often is, a powerful thing. The opportunity to influence opinion, influence the industry, expose shitty music and praise good music is a task that cannot be taken lightly. I think it should be taken seriously. And being passionate about music is the only place to start. But being passionate about writing, and reading good writing, is the only way to write anything worth reading.
--Brent Steven White