You Almost Have To Feel Bad For Black Kids

So, let's say you're one of the Black Kids.

You're from Jacksonville, Florida, which already sucks. I mean, ok, I guess you might get to see NFL bust Matt Jones walking around all white and beardy, but otherwise, gross. But anyway, you and your friends form a band, self-release a mediocre EP, and within minutes you're officially the Next Big Thing, as evidenced by constant, drooling coverage from NME and Pitchfork and the like.

So, you get a record deal, and you put out a record. And then THIS happens:

http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/record_review/51246-black-kids-partie-traumatic

Yeah...those guys who loved you and hyped you up and pretty much guaranteed good things from you? They won't even deign to write a SINGLE SENTENCE about your record. Because, meh, sorry, didn't you know Fleet Foxes are the tits now?

And what does that "sorry" imply, anyway? "Sorry, readers, that we kept talking about this shitty band for 6 months and now have to admit that they're shitty"? Or "Sorry, Black Kids, but your check didn't clear"?

Or is it just a simple declarative statement: "This is some sorry, sorry shit."

in which our hero hates on Black Kids once again

pitchfork has a news bulletin up about Black Kids' upcoming world tour. it contains a couple of curious formulations.

for starters, "without a full-length album, a label [...], a proper tour of their own home country, or even a fully functional website to their credit (er, 'coming soon'), Black Kids have managed to win hearts around the globe."

apparently, a musician's goal is "to win hearts". because, of course, immediate popularity is exactly as high as any creative person should aim. also, pitchfork's own role in Black Kids' popularity is completely removed from the equation. even though the sentence, as it's written, begs the question: then how DID they get so fucking popular?

for seconds, "never underestimate the power of a catchy tune, people. or, in the kids' case, four of 'em."

a few words for whoever wrote this, borrowed from the master shake: "who bothered to spawn you, and why?"


on a more serious note, i don't underestimate the power of "a catchy tune", but i do think everybody over at the fork overestimates the value, rarity, sticking power, and artistic merit of a song that makes you want to hum along. for christ's sake, there's more to music than catchiness. a lot fucking more.

Weird and Easy

I've really got to stop pillaging from the fruitful tree that is Pitchfork. My favorite thing about their site is the relentless amount of indie-isms abounding. This is a website dedicated to underground music, but really it's nothing of the sort. Go read the best new music. Who's there? Jens Lekman? Deerhunter? Black Kids?

Nope, it's the kings of the underground, the radical, the unsigned, the DIY enthusiasts- Radiohead. Listen: either you want to be Rolling Stone, or you don't. No more of this toeing the line nonsense. We all know that Radiohead makes some great music. I'm pretty sure that they could drop a hot load into a CD case, close it, put it inside a manila envelope, crap even more hot load inside of the envelope, and then send it to any record company in the world and they would put it out.

Thom Yorke's a good songwriter/lead singer. Jonny Greenwood and that Ed guy are great guitarists. Phil and Colin are a good rhythm section. We all know this. Seriously. Why even review a record that everyone knows is going to be solid at the least?

Oh yeah, so you can use a bunch of adjectives, verbs and nouns! I forgot about that. Here is a full list of every descriptive phrase that showed up in this review:

-overlong and scattershot
-guitar-centric compositions
-user friendly
-glacial distance
-dollops of reverb
-mulched up drum intro
-zestful guitar line
-gold mine of one-off fills
-jazzier, fluid guitar line
-eschews verse/chorus/verse structure
-sludgy riff
-skronks along noisily
-keening melodies and immutable prettiness
-drain-circling arpeggios
-skeletal rhythm section in cavernous swaths of glockenspiel
-syrupy strings
-slinky, elongated falsetto backed by frosty, clanging percussion and a meandering guitar line
-woozily beautiful things
-lethargic, chipped-at guitar chords
-slow, R.E.M.-shaped ballad
- spry guitar workout
-breakneck conclusion
-breathless closing rant
-"Pyramid Song" in the making
-circling piano coda
-bassline that seems to promise a climax that never comes
-rickety drum beat and shuddering percussions
-real life drums
-barely distinguishable electronic counterpart
-piano gently uncoils
-a fitting close to such a human album

I don't even know where to start, so I'll start with the end. A human album? I'll have to admit, I liked it better when Yorke and company made animal albums. Yorke's solo manimal work is much better as well.

My time on this library-owned computer is finishing up, so I'll finish this post later. Until next time, just read more about Deerhunter. It's good for you.

I promise.