The Syndrome

Every so often I'll be at the store and pick up a copy of Kanye West's "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy," and wonder if I should buy it and listen to it for this website.

There are times when I spend way too much time worrying about the critical estimation of that album, which is apparently the greatest thing since sliced bread. I'll defer to others here. I have no critical ear for hip hop, although I can tell from what I've heard ("Power," "Runaway," and "Monster") that this is some major league stuff. In fact, it appears to transcend the league altogether. But that doesn't mean I have to love it.

If you want my opinion on those three songs, it's this: "Power" is a great tune that I love to listen to at the beginning but exhausts me by the end. "Runaway" grates on me, at least in censored, radio-friendly form. "Monster" has a good hook but every second of it is overshadowed by Nicki Minaj (and good for her, because I don't dig her solo single, "Right Thru Me.") So there's me being a contrarian dickhole.

And I'd presume a full review of MBDTF (or "Mabudatuff" as I will now be calling it around the store,) would either be more of that, or a complete turnaround and a realization that Kanye's album is in fact the greatest disc of the millennium. This is possible -- I would dedicate myself to listening to it with an open mind -- but the urge to be the asshole that tries (and fails) to take this juggernaut of an album down a peg would be difficult to resist. I'd be like the guy saying the Beatles weren't that great and that Nirvana was all hype. And nobody should want to be that guy. That guy's got the Syndrome.

The Syndrome is something I've noticed for years on the internet. It's an extreme form of hype backlash so severe I felt I needed to go and make up a new phrase for it (and all I could come up with, so far, was "The Syndrome.") It's that frustrated, resentful bitterness that sets in when everyone loves something you don't. Not just when you dislike something popular, or something that sells well but is acknowledged to be shit, but something everyone, everyone, everyone seems to think is good but you. It's what motivates people to write bitter-ass reviews of Inception, or explain away Nevermind's success as "right place right time." Or -- although this has probably never happened -- someone saying Arrested Development wasn't all that great. Whatever it is, the professional critics like it. Your friends, including the ones whose opinions you actually respect like it. Everyone in the world seems to be buying into it, but you stand outside it, because it didn't grab you the way it grabbed them. And it fucking burns you up inside.

So instead of fading into the background during discussions, or quietly admitting, "Ah, I don't really get it but whatever," you need to rant, you need to express yourself, you need to get pissed. Most often this involves telling these people they're idiots for thinking this thing is great. Trying to launch an attack from any available front: "You like it because it's popular," "You like it because you're dumb" "(X) is way better," "(artist) is a hack," etc, etc, and you'll fight tooth and claw with anyone who disagrees with you, which is pretty much everyone.

And there's nothing wrong with diverging from the majority, and there's nothing wrong with holding to your own opinions. It's about choosing your battles, and there comes a time when you've got to realize how obnoxious you are for wearing your hatred of this beloved work, whatever it is, so proudly. You're a hater, man.

So I don't wanna be that, I don't wanna do that. In the words of Philip J. Fry, "I'll be whatever I wanna do." You probably don't care that I won't be reviewing Kanye's album, but there's something that occurs to me every time I do listen to one of the songs off it: it's definitely special. It's not your standard issue bullshit-hits Black Eyed Peas release, or a where's-the-hook-Pitbull-guest-spot deal. This is a man who thinks very seriously about the music he puts out there, and probably nothing else.

And I have absolutely no problem living in a world where Kanye West is good at what he does. It doesn't have to be for me. He might be a cognitively-challenged manchild, but so was Raymond Babbit.

So there you have it, gang. I've spent about as much time thinking about why I won't be reviewing this album as I have spent thinking about the next one I will be reviewing, which hasn't sold nearly as much. Kanye doesn't need the extra attention, and I don't need to try to change anyone's mind about him (since I'd fail.) You might see the Syndrome crop up on this blog someday, but I'm trying my best to beat it back and let people like what they like.

It isn't important that people agree with me. Only that they think seriously about what they want to hear.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

On Albums pt 1 of a million

If you haven't yet, read this intriguing interview with one of the most happenin' voices of music criticism on the web, Discographies. His (her?) twitter feed is always insightful and very exact and always incredibly clever. I don't always necessarily agree, but I can always get what he's trying to say, and he says it so concisely.

He makes a good point about what separates "what separates this batch of material from that batch of material." Despite the free-for-all availability of music on the internet, we still take our music input in the albums-and-singles format prescribed way back in the 60's, when they'd fold in the two hit .45's with (in Phil Spector's words) "ten pieces of junk" (which aren't junk in capable hands) to make an LP. Maybe because we're used to it, or maybe because it's useful. Not everything can be a greatest hits, and commercially, it makes sense to keep this form of output up. As much sense as anything else.

But I'm not here to philosophize about why albums are, but how I take them. Specifically, what makes a good album versus a "great one."

A good album, I thought to myself earlier today, is a collection of songs you like hearing. Maybe, like anything else, it has some bad cuts, but generally, it's full of enjoyable material you'd re-listen to.

A great album -- very important in this day and age where we're far beyond spinning vinyl, in the world of CDs and iPod shuffles -- is one where you can't bear to listen to the songs apart. You probably do, but you'd much, much rather hear them together.

They belong that way. And not just because there's a crossfade.

That's my somewhat idealistic take on it anyhow.

The Statement

To begin with, criticism sucks.

I guess that's my critique of the criticism game. Either you're telling people something they already know, or you're feeding them an opinion they don't care to hear. Either you like what they like or you don't. There's a lot of crappy pop music that people buy despite what the critics are saying about it. There's a lot of great music that doesn't get heard despite (sometimes even because of) critical praise. Worst is when a nice little indie act pours their heart and soul into a record only to get brushed off as derivative or bland or uninspired or a hundred other useless stock critical phrases. A lot of critics don't seem to like any music, or seem to like it for the wrong reasons.

Personally, I find music-writing a bit of an absurd proposal. Mostly you just have to listen and make up your own mind, then get people to do the same. So I want to make it absolutely clear a the top of this blog that I am no objective voice of critical response. I am not the cut-and-dried arbiter of cool. I'm just a guy who knows what he likes.

But what keeps us talking about music is the challenge: to be able to put into words a feeling evoked by the music. To share it with another through your own filter. That's why I insist on keeping up the musical discourse, and why I keep reading the music review websites I hate, because yeah, sometimes they get it right. Most often they get up their ass in pretension (and I can't promise I won't either) and lose sight of why people are supposed to dig tunes. Just to pop your headphones on and say "Fuck, that's a good song," feels like the ultimate distillation of the experience.

So let me tell you exactly, hopefully in less words than I've already used, what I'm doing here. I'm writing about music.

I work in a CD store -- that is, a well-known (outside the States) seller of CDs, DVDs, books, video games, keychains, etc, etc, but mostly held together by a common love for music, particularly amongst the staff. I've been here for over a year and yet in 2010 I bought fewer than a dozen CDs. I'm discerning as all hell, but fuck, I ought to really dig in! I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be here!

So my plan for 2011 is to buy a shitload of music: at least one CD per week, hopefully more. And to keep true to this plan, I decided I was going to write about it. Online, for six or seven people to see. And hopefully you'll read this blog, and I'll say something great about a CD you like, or inspire you to pick up something you'd never heard of. It's not always going to be new stuff, but the key is I have to hear the CD in its entirety for the first time in preparation for writing about it.

I can't promise I will always be positive. Sometimes I'll have to be snarky and dismissive and yeah, pretentious like all music critics. Sometimes I'll be snobby, and sometimes I'll probably do something I hate, which is use a positive review to put down something I dislike. But since this is the stuff I'm choosing to hear, I'll always be starting from the position that this was something I stood a chance of liking.

They won't always be real reviews: I'll try to offer my perspective and tell you what the CD makes me think, and most often but maybe not always, it'll involve a recommendation, but sometimes it'll be helpful to think of them as little essays or blurbs or ramblings as the case may be, rather than reviews. In between my weekly posts, I might post a quick link to a song I've just discovered, or some thoughts on an old favourite, but they won't count toward my weekly post goal.

Sometimes I might get behind schedule with the writing, but as long as I stay on top with the listening, it should even out.

And the last thing, the biggest thing: requests and recommendations. I'm entering into this adventure with my own tastes in mind, but I can't know everything. If there's something you think I'd like (you'll get more of an idea later) don't be shy to ask about it. I'll probably have to check it out on the internet to be sure I would want to spend my money and time on it (my first music review gig, they only sent me stuff I would never have bought myself) but I'm very, very encouraging of suggestions.

My first post will be up soonish. Hopefully I can keep this up as long as I intend to.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto