REFLECTIONS ON THE STATE OF MUSIC IN 2011
or Why I Cannot Learn To Stop Worrying and Love
Spotify
"It
takes effort and attention...like most things, the more it hurts, the more it
means…"
– Frank Chimero commenting on The Tree Of Life
As true rock journalism has been replaced by
blog/internet culture (which explains the ascendancy of the shoddy, short-sighted,
pot-shot criticism of Pitchfork and their ilk) that seems to exist without correlation
to rock history or lineage, it is as if many of the current rock “journalists”
are so consumed with the post-modern tendency to simply link references rather
than analyze with intelligence. It seems they cannot, or will not invest in the
process of thoughtfully considering the work they are attempting to criticize
beyond the most superficial of connective elements (again I’m looking at you
Pitchfork).
Perhaps this tendency to connect rather than
analyze is due in part to the entire catalogue of recorded music literally
becoming available at your fingertips. This unprecedented access brings with it
a wholly modern problem – access without filter; without a way to navigate this
bottomless pit of history the rock journalist of today can merely attempt to
connect like-objects in an attempt to plot a course in the wake of the collapse
of the music industry. This is why I cannot learn to stop worrying and love Spotify—the
discrepancy between access and education, breakneck opportunity and analytic
understanding is staggering.
Yes, it is a dream to be able to access anything
in the realm of music, but what are we losing? Unfettered musical access at the
speed of light often causes surface dismissal, on-to-the-next-thing, shallow
interaction (the topic of recent book TheShallows: What The Internet Is Doing To Our Brains). Rock criticism has now
become similar to Tumblr, but for music—a rapid succession of images that “look”
significant or rather become symbols for significance rather than doors to
deeper, more meaningful interaction. In short, many members of youthful
audiences can discern what significance “looks like”, but cannot elucidate why
those images/peoples/texts/musics are actually significant. Imagine if you applied this method of criticism to other forms of art: if art history courses were only
constructed as Tumblr-style image sequences without discourse and crucial
support/contextual information; that the annals of film were only a series of
YouTube clips; that the vast history of literature were only brief sentence
summaries or worse, context-free quotations (this already is the only way that most young people interact
with the classics—through Tumblr-loaded quotes or Disney-fied movie versions).
This lack of context positions all works of art
to be of equal value as seen through the lens of an endless succession of
quickly viewed/listened to works; the truly substantial and the commonly mediocre
become indiscernible in the anonymous rush of material hissing past at hurried
speeds. We are at the top of the ladder in our ability to access, but without
means of navigation, we are kicking out the rungs beneath us. This can only end
in a culture of art that is repetitive, unoriginal, and worst of all, cliché.
It is this superficial contact that I am attempting
to make a plea against—in every area of art, be it literature, painting, film,
design, or music. If venues like Spotify or Rdio are used in the right way—as
modern conduits to connect us to the art we listen to, to contemplate, to
investigate, to discuss—then they are certainly a positive. This screed may
come across as the ranting of an old-timer, claiming that things were better
“back then”. To be clear, I am no luddite; I am an avid user of Twitter, Tumblr,
Blogger, etc. But I fear that for those listeners who are at the outset of
their formative listening experiences and critical listening development will
not gain the ability to analyze, but rather to only be able to at best connect-the-dots,
and at worst—never develop the ability to “listen” at all.
SIDENOTE: I just want to publicly request that
David Bowie shake free of his early retirement and get back into the ring this
year. This is my biggest hope for the new year—Bowie, come back—we need you now
more than ever.
