Nowadays, we as listeners don’t stroll to the closest magazine stand, pick up the latest Rolling Stone, flip through the pages, and decide what our next music purchase will be. We are no longer confined by the restrictions of magazines, radios, and nearby record stores to supply us with new music. As my High Fidelity colleague pointed out a few weeks ago, We’re the children of the World Wide Web and we utilize that God-given gift to the furthest possible degree.
Modern technology has granted us with programs that track our listening patterns or our most played tracks and feed us a slew of recommendations specifically tailored to fit our musical needs. But where does that leave the Almost Famous reporters who have dedicated their lives (or at least their spare time) to being the voice of reason in deciding what disc gets its spin in your Walkmen next?
Each time I sign online, I check my list of favorite music blogs to see if Joe Shmoe and Jane Doe have come across something new for me to listen to. So why should I waste time on a company like Rolling Stone that, as far as I can tell, really does believe that the new Nickelback and the new Horrors records are highly comparable in quality because of some five star scale?
The power of the critique is now plagued by a sense of pretentiousness. The appeal of critiquing music usually finds its way into the various underground scenes, whether that be indie rock, hip-hop, punk, or any other genre. The punk rock zine Maximum Rock and Roll bases most of its reviews on the underlying theory that nothing in the world is punk enough. A similar theory is applied to a more well-known and seemingly unavoidable publication: Pitchfork Media.
To sum up Pitchfork’s agenda quickly, on September 10, 2007, The Onion published an article claiming that Pitchfork founder and editor Ryan Schreiber reviewed music as a whole throughout all of human history, giving it a 6.8 out of 10. Silly indie rock narcissists.
This all seems to draw from the primitive powers that they seem to have over indie scene. In the past they’ve had the potential to turn bands into all stars (Grizzly Bear, or, on a smaller scale, Wavves) or to completely ruin the career of a musician. Travis Morrison of Dismemberment Plan fame, released his solo album titled Travistan in 2004; Pitchfork reviewed the album and gave it one of their mocking 0.0’s out of 10.0. This fair critique influenced one record store owner in Texas who refused to carry the album due to the rating. Morrison has since retired from making music.
We’ve become much more self-reliant in our search for information. The world of music is at our fingertips, but still, as consumers, we have some sort of reliance on the critical, written word. We are no longer worried about wasting money by purchasing a new album—not when a free download is just a click away—but with so many choices and so little time, we still need the gatekeepers to filter out the gold from the silt.
