I was going to write a post on residual value, then realised that I was plagiarising - badly, and without much thought - from post-structuralists I don't even have names for. All I wanted to know is this: does a work of art have any residual value, beyond that invested in it by the reader/observer. If not, then what's the purpose of the critic. If so, then surely that value is a construct, artificial - no better and no worse than a popularity contest.
One reason I dislike the perfect '10' that Pitchfork gave Sonic Youth's Daydream Nation is the unspoken arrogance implicit in such an action, for - if we can all be agreed upon the fact that the merit of a work of art needs to judged upon both the author and reader's roles - not only does this assume that the work of art is the most 'perfect', flawless ever but also that the judgment passed upon it is from the most 'perfect', flawless critic the world has ever witnessed. The relationship is inter-dependent.
Like most of the western world, I prefer to read an interpretation rather than the 'original' (if it exists). The individual voice becomes all-important in Web 2.0, and how it relates to your paradigm.
It takes a panel of six peers to recognise an expert. Otherwise that expert does not exist. I sometimes feel this can be applied to my own role as music 'critic' and Australia.
Random rambling thoughts on the notion of the perfect 10. Context, as always, is everything. I too have major issues with the pitchfork 10 for DN.
ReplyDeleteI remember being a young fresh-faced school kid reading Edwin Pouncy's review of Pixies' Doolittle in NME. He gave it a 10. The review, and the score, have stuck in my mind ever since, in part because I rushed to buy a copy and discovered a truly great record,FOR ME AT THAT TIME, but also because it was a wonderful piece of writing from a writer I knew something of.
EP's review was clearly a subjective opinion; it was clear that this 10/10 was EP's score for THAT record at THAT time. And that was the additional context: for me as a kid in rural England, Doolitle came out of nowhere and stood alone, miles beyond the unispired and uninspiring pap I had discovered to that point in the world of "indie" music. There was nothing objective about this 10, but subjectively, for me as an alienated, confused school kid just discovering whole other worlds of alternative cultures: well 10 was EXACTLY the right score for this record.
I knew something of EP as a writer and knew that for him to score a record a 10 there had to be something in it that was special. So for me that 10 was all about EP's judgement of the record. It wasn't a NME 10; it wasn't a definitive statement from on high; it was a writer who was cearly subjective in his approach to music and writing about it saying: Here's a great record. And that meaning something TO ME.
Some problems with the Pitchfork DN 10: 1) I don't know the writer, I have no idea if her/his tastes are aligned with mine; 2) It presumes to be objective 3) It describes some objective alt/rock universe and an objective position of DN in that universe which I neither believe exists objectivley, nor give two hoots about. 4) its really bad writing in a lot of places - especially the excruciating opening para.
But the real problem is the fact that this is THE PITCHFORK REVIEW. There's major branding at work. The score is aligned with the PF Brand. THE PITCHORK REVIEW is taken as short-hand for THE DEFINITIVE WORD. Thats a lot to do with PITCHFORK's own positioning and branding as the LEADING ALT/ROCK WEBSITE, and, to be fair, a lot to do with lazy-ass refencing by a million others.
What I'm trying to say is this: context is all. Always. I cared deeply about Edwin Pouncy's 10 for Doolittle because I knew something of him as a writer, I knew he knew what the fuck he was talking about. I knew that he was giving me his personal opinion and he couldn't care two hoots wether this was aligned with received wisdom or not. And because it was a wonderful piece of writing. I don't care in the least about the Pitchfork 10 for DN because I don't know the writer; because its bad writing which does absolutely nothing for me; but most of all because its clearly strives to be aligned with RECEIVED WISDOM. I don't care about RECEIVED WISDOM in any context, music or otherwise, and I pay no attenion to a writer that tries to make me feel that I should.
I worked in a decent college record store when Daydream Nation came out. At the time, it was considered a major shambling step down from the previous year's Sister by the handful of fans who purchased it upon release. I still feel that way.
ReplyDeleteEvery year, certain bits of received wisdom keep getting further entrenched and so passed on again.
But what do I know? I was disappointed with the Pixies in concert in 1989 -- the half-assed Happy Mondays had more wit and emotion in their mess of an opening gig performance.