RFBX In-Depth Specials The Death of the Music Critic?
By: Hayley Leaver
Lester Bangs
Three years ago, I made the uninformed decision to partake in a degree of Communication and Media Studies at Brighton University. One benefit to the judgemental looks received when dropping into intelligent conversation the fact that you're studying media at degree level, is that some of the work you end up doing could actually be genuinely enjoyable and - god forbid - interesting. And so it was that I opted to write my 10,000 word dissertation on 'the Future of Music Criticism'. I entered the cliched world of writing music reviews at university as a result of a two week internship at the dear old Rockfeedback offices, an experience which undoubtedly spurred me to read into the apparent fall of music journalism: a topic discussed to some length in the ephemeral world at the heart of its supposed demise - that old chestnut, the ‘blogosphere’.
Anyone who has spent even a smidgen of time cruising around the World Wide Web of music websites will know that there tends to emerge two sides to the online journalistic coin: the general crud that any number of bloggers may spit out about the latest pop-album-it’s-cool-to-like-in-an-ironic-way, and then there’s the material written by those who can structure a sentence and impart informed judgement on musical matters. The crux of the debate sits in the discussion over whether the changing face of music journalism, from one of elitist magazine journalists - good, hard, ink on paper journalists - to that of the bearded, beer-bellied, amateur blogger, signals an end to all things NME, Rolling Stone, and Village Voice. These and other publications were the platforms from which the mighty Bangs, Christgau, and Burchill once penned words plied with such influence that they had the ability to extinguish an aspiring, or established band’s hopes with the flick of a wrist. These writers were as famous as the musicians over whom they swooned and certainly as outlandish, but most importantly perhaps, they were the elite, the minority. This is where the internet rears its ugly head - in today’s world of music criticism, anyone can opt to join the noble few - anyone can be a critic.
While it may seem fairly obvious that running down to the newsagents to grab this week’s NME on a Wednesday morning may no longer be the most pressing issue on your agenda, Pitchfork’s 2 million unique visitors a month suggests that this general agenda might have shifted somewhat. This is where the issue lies for the music press: any village idiot can type a band, track, or album name into a search engine (probably Bing if you’re a village idiot), and within seconds decide whether they like it or not. This instant gratification can not only lead to unaided judgement or development of music taste, but it can also - if one is so inclined - allow a person to illegally download that track or album for absolutely bugger all.
Julie Burchill
And here is where the music industry comes under scrutiny. How does a gazillion pound industry cope with a puncture, one which excretes unfathomable amounts of money, and one which seems to be beyond repair? Not only that, but this puncture is apparently the catalyst for the downfall of our beloved music press, because nobody has to be listen to them anymore. There have been a few buoyancy aids in the form of Spotify, for example, which will inevitably become so heavily advert-filled it’ll be unbearable to use, and the only free bits left will be The Beatles Karaoke albums and East 17: The Platinum Collection. Then there are the impending-doom, scare-mongering news articles in which a portrait is painted of the FBI crashing through the front door of some acne-scarred undergraduate’s halls as his Pendulum discography torrent hits 100%. The standard media degree answer to the million pound question is the, “Hallelujah! Millionaire musicians fight back!” plea: of course, the In Rainbows revelation.
It’s all good and well for the globally successful, and quite frankly immortal, Radiohead to flog their album off at a price decided by each individual member of their largely middle class target audience (I have no evidence to back up that ‘middle class’ bit), with their extortionately-priced, extremely rare and extremely sold out tours to make up for the albums that sold for a penny. But what about the struggling indie band, under the caring but scrimping wing of their independent label? Small labels like Rockfeedback’s good pal, Transgressive Records, plus Bella Union, Sub Pop, and Wichita are the sole reasons for some of our most beloved bands existing. Independent labels, record stores, zines and blogs shed light on the hope that this culture of instant gratification will not destroy music as we know it, even if it does impose change on how it’s consumed, created, or criticised. There will always be those who love music too much to allow it to sink beneath the surface of misspelt album reviews or illegal music downloads.
There are certain ways in which the big guns of the music press will always have the upper hand over the amateur critic, and that is with exclusivity. The next time Amy Winehouse OD’s, remarries Blake, and releases an album of duets a la Katie and Peter (Price and Andre, not Moss and Doherty, or did I miss that?), it’s unlikely that Miss Winehouse will consult her favourite Tumblr and offer the lucky blogger an exclusive interview. It’ll either be OK! or NME, but the point of the matter is that there is a level of reverence held by established music magazines that will almost always trump a music website. How long this is likely to last is the question that no-one can answer - perhaps the music press will end up being entirely online; if this is the only way it can prosper then who are we to judge?
Robert Christgau
Well respected music academic, Brian Longhurst, has stated: “Your ears never tell you lies; Rock critics always do”. This wonderfully pessimistic view of music criticism is another reason to don rose-tinted Raybans when considering the future of music criticism: who can be more trusted to provide a totally honest and heartfelt vilification of the latest hyped album than some blog you’ve stumbled across trying to find a download link of said album? The issue with this is of course one of potentially substandard writing skills and infuriating abbreviations, unintelligible even to the person too bone idle to write in complete sentences in the first place - a fact reiterated by our own beloved editor, Tom Hannan, when I pestered him into writing a few words to gain some brownie points for my dissertation. The fact of the matter is that people will always hanker for a voice of authority, one to challenge or validate that recommendation from a friend with a questionable music taste.
The concept of change should arouse feelings of transcendence to something brighter: the internet brings benefits with the ability to source breaking news and publish it to millions within seconds. No more archaic waiting for next week’s issue to find out that Libertines gig you just couldn’t miss has already sold out, a fact that certainly isn’t anything new. And this is the route that the music press may very well have to take - though we may all be able to make our own minds up about the music we want to listen to, there will always be the need for a supreme being to report on everything we mere mortals cannot unearth ourselves. This is where the music press - the big guys - will maintain the upper hand over the blogs, the Youtube comments and the Last FM recommendations: the comprehensive interviews and privileged access out of reach of your typical surfer.
The internet has happened - it should have stopped being considered a harbinger of impending doom after New Year’s Day 2000. The new dawn of music criticism is one of democracy, albeit an entirely anonymous democracy if one so wishes, but one where the critic themselves can and will be criticised until the cyber cows come home. The act of reading this article is itself a call for renewed hope, an example of amateur writers gaining an audience - however small - and honing writing skills in the shadows of the auteurs to whom they aspire. If music criticism shall truly change, it is us, the readers, the consumers, and the writers, who will ride out that change.