People often ask me how I "decide" what kind of music I like. I tell them I don't decide-there's no secret, no formula, I just like what I like. Maybe it's an internal inclination-I no more "decide" what to like than some people "decide" at birth they prefer penises to vaginas.
This subject of musical taste-specifically music critic taste-came up twice for me this week in interesting and interconnected ways. First, a friend pointed out to me that in last week's "Hear It"
section of SFR, I had written about three artists-Morrissey, the Flaming Lips and Pink-who were, according to my friend, "a little mainstream for you, don't you think?"
This occurred a few days before the Web site Slate (
) went all crazy-meta-apeshit with its coverage and criticism of…pop music coverage and criticism, asking, among other
questions, whether music critics are too exclusionary in their taste. Whether, in short, they sort of "decide" what they like according to snobby insider tenets of what's "legitimate" music and what is not.
A corollary of this question is that, for rock critics, the more obscure an artist, the more legit and deserving of cred. From this
basis, long, meandering conversations about arcane rock stuff, interesting only to other rock critics, ensue. The Slate article addressing these issues of rock snobbery was entitled "The Perils of Poptimism: Does Hating Rock Make you a Rock Critic?" (Tellingly, a companion to this piece was a lengthy article entitled "Blacklisted," in which music writer John Cook covered the debate amongst other music writers-including rock snob favorite Sasha Frere-Jones from the New Yorker-about whether or not the Magnetic Fields' Stephin Merritt-pretty much heralded as a god by rock snobs, though he is relatively unknown among the general population, and who also is known as quite a musical snob himself-is a racist because he doesn't like hip-hop. Jeez…)
The current term, as the Slate article pointed out, for a certain type of music snobbery is "rockism." While rockism has never been specifically defined, it can be summed up as a general idea that certain forms of popular music are organic and heartfelt and "real," and therefore culturally valid, and therefore judged to be "good." We're talking Springsteen, Iggy Pop, early Rolling Stones, certain Madonna songs, etc. The tenets of rockism also stipulate that other types of music are contrived and silly and sellout, and are thus devoid of cultural significance and are therefore "bad." We're talking Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Journey, other Madonna songs, etc. A main problem with rockism is that it filters out music based on its source, rather than its merit. It is a decision, a pre-sorting: "I will like this music because it has been made by an obscure half-Chinese journeyman folksinger from 1920 who was killed at the tender age of 22 after a tragic train-jumping accident.
Nothing
is more authentic than that."
Right, but can you dance to it? That's one question asked by those who subscribe to "poptimism." Poptimism fulfills the other extreme of the pendulum swing, attempting to correct the rockist problem by embracing-or at least not outright rejecting-the cheesiest of cheese, the tritest
American Idol
swill, the highest of Mariah Carey's notes. Poptimists see no reason why Bananarama shouldn't be uttered in the same breath as the Beatles.
The rockist/poptimist debate in "The Perils of Popitism" is an interesting topic, but its appeal may only speak to other music writers. Therein lies the problem: You can't really discuss how critics come to their decisions without becoming a critic yourself, part of an insular club as paradoxically enticing and destructive as that crazy-ass sex cult in
Eyes Wide Shut
. Case in point: If you've made it this far in this column and are not a rock critic, you are probably saying to yourself:
Why don't you shut up already and save this discussion for the other critics at South by Southwest or Coachella or the Why-the-Pixies-Are-the-Greatest-Band-Ever Conference or wherever it is these discussions take place?!
Well, you make a good point. But I'm putting it out there because music fans should be more a part of the conversation, and it's the job of those who write about such things to start the dialogue. It's not that these discussions are taking place that's so awful; it's the limited number of participants. So I ask you to e-mail or write this column and tell me your favorite bands, local or otherwise, and why you like them. You can do it right after you vote for them in our Best of Santa Fe survey! And in the meantime, I'm going to listen to Pink's newest album. On repeat.
