The Rolling Stones.
This piece on the sorry state of modern rock criticism is flying around social media.
Imagine, for a moment, football commentators who refuse to explain formations and plays. Or a TV cooking show that never mentions the ingredients. Or an expert on cars who refuses to look under the hood of an automobile.
These examples may sound implausible, perhaps ridiculous. But something comparable is happening in the field of music journalism. One can read through a stack of music magazines and never find any in-depth discussion of music. Technical knowledge of the art form has disappeared from its discourse. In short, music criticism has turned into lifestyle reporting.
As one prone to geezerism, there are some things I agree with here – and I definitely feel this trend has gotten worse over the last 10 years – but how much better was it ever? In the heyday of Rolling Stone magazine, weren’t reviews centered around the revolutionary, youth-culture appeal of artists? Did anyone really take time to break down the harmonic structure of Jefferson Airplane, or were they described in terms of how “radical” and “groovy,” or whatever, their latest record was?
What was Janis Joplin without photos of her stoned silly and wrapped in a feather boa? What were the ’70s Rolling Stones without them slumped around at odd angles, with a visible bottle of Jack Daniels and reports of Mick dashing off with Margaret Trudeau? The critics the writer of this piece cites from his glorious, high-brow youth were primarily jazz and classical critics. I don’t think criticism in those genres is at issue. What’s really going on here?
