The Case Against The Overly Literate-on-the-Verge-of-Pretentious Reviewer

EDIT: I know that this entry isn't exactly Domesticity-worthy except for the hipster-bashing, so if you want to skip this, it's OK with me. To make up for it, I will now share with you the worst video that I've seen in the last three months: "Rudebox" by Robbie Williams - which not only illustrates what happens when somebody loses his sense of humor, but practically makes the new Kevin Federline clip look like high art. Utter crap, I tell you.

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Let me state for the record that I am not a fan of Robert Christgau. On the contrary, I am indifferent to what he has to say about music or anything else. Yet, I am irritated by the way certain writers rip off his style in their own reviews. It's the main reason why I don't read music magazines any more like I used to: I could care less if this band reminds you of some other band - all I care about is whether or not I feel anything for the music. It's another reason why I think bloggers are going to be more vital in the democratization of any art form - music, fashion, beauty, books, movies, etc. - and even more so than the mainstream media.

That said, this article from Slate makes me smile.

A few quotes:

Of course, Christgau's blurbs are like no one else's—dense with ideas and allusions, first-person confessions and invective, highbrow references and slang. They are far too insidery for general readers, and even the biggest music geek can find his writing hard to decipher...

...Christgau has his hard-core cultists. At various times, the Voice music section embodied the worst aspects of Christgau's influence, publishing articles that were lumpy goulashes of rock-crit arcana and in-jokes. Christgau is probably too peculiar a writer to be an ideal model. His imitators can't match his chops.

Note to all the pretentious Christgau wannabes writing for the papers and music magazines in Manila: Time to give up the ghost, folks. The revolution is closer than you think.