"5.4"
Speaking of Pitchfork, Richard Beck writes in N+1 about the history of the site and its effect on music. It’s a bit tl;dr, so I’m posting now and then reading right afterwards, but I think the fact that somebody is undertaking a retrospective on Pitchfork makes it worth linking to.
Pitchfork was a cultural force in the early to mid ’00s—and arguably it is still a huge one (see the linked article). Of course, a web site that plays tastemaker for an audience who likes to discard things one they become too big was headed for a backlash, and that backlash arrived, followed by seeming apathy. Anecdotally, I can only think of a couple of people with whom I still talk about the site—although apparently the numbers tell a different story.
I’ll always love them, though. In the formative years of my musical tastes, they were a kindred spirit. As my listening ambitions became more ambitious (or my listening time became less, or as I accumulated more and more albums that I wanted to continue to have a relationship with long after they were released), I got pickier and pickier about what new stuff I listened to (or intended to). And Pitchfork has been there to help me filter through it. I never let Pitchfork keep me from listening to something I liked (although I certainly let them challenge me to figure out why I liked something they didn’t), but I’ve certainly found lots of stuff I would have never listened to otherwise through the site.
I don’t think the writing’s quite what it used to be. Or, perhaps, it’s gotten too serious and is no longer gleefully absurd (I was combing through the archives the other day and found a few examples that highlight this, I’ll probably link to them later). But there are so many bands and albums that have are now an integral part of my biography that they get a free pass from me, forever. Let the haters hate. Long live Pitchfork.
Addendum: Speaking of haters, Mr. Beck seems to be one of them. And not just pitchfork—the article displays quite a lot of self loathing as well, once he gets around to making his point.
The piece has lots of good history that I enjoyed reading. It’s got some good observations. It’s also an example of the worst kind of facile writing that ignores shades of grey to make its black and white point. Take Mr. Beck’s bit about the Dismemberment Plan and Travis Morrison: Beck points out that Pitchfork were big boosters of the Plan, then recounts the 0.0 score they gave to Morrison’s first solo album, and then gives the story the epilogue that Morrison has done nothing since but play a few Plan reunion shows in 2011.
That ignores these points:
- the Plan was a really awesome band.
- Travistan was a pretty horrible album. It didn’t deserve a 0.0, but what that score shows is the level of disappointment Pitchfork felt in Morrison and the album.
- Morrison didn’t go into retirement because Pitchfork Pitchfork destroyed his career. He put out a pretty good album in 2007 under the moniker Travis Morrison Hellfighters, All Y’all (Pitchfork score: 4.5).
- Far from the sad state of affairs that Mr. Beck implies, the Plan’s 2011 reunion tour was greeted with sold-out shows and glowing reviews.
There’s more bits in the piece, especially the facile part at the end that accuses Indie as a whole (and really, today’s popular music as a whole) of completely failing to innovate (which strikes me as short-sighted), but I’ll leave them as an exercise to the reader. Point being, it’s quite clear that Beck worked backwards from his conclusion, cherry picking facts to make his point, and forgoing what could have otherwise been a fascinating retrospective on one of the decade’s great cultural forces.
That’s not to say he’s wrong, or that his points aren’t well taken. But by trying to strengthen them, he’s weakened them. Give us your argument straight, don’t be afraid to acknowledge the shades of gray and the contradictions. If there’s truth to what you say, we’ll figure out what to do with the bits that don’t fit.
