By Scott Creney So if Robert Christgau—who pretty much invented this format—is the Dean of Rock Critics, then what does that make me? The Mujahideen of Rock Critics? The Paula Deen of Rock Critics? The Jan & Dean? Whatever. Here’s some stuff that came out in June. I’m not going to bother embedding pictures and […]
By Miss Tiarney Miekus I haven’t been properly sickened by the self-delusions of the typical mainstream all-male stadium rock act since Alex Turner made a big show of wanting to smash through the glass ceiling (apparently forgetting he is the glass ceiling) or the staggering audacity that saw U2’s Songs Of Innocence digitally force-fed to […]
There’s nothing wrong with Four. It’s a collection of solidly written, flawlessly performed indie rock songs that sound almost exactly like Muse, and therein lies the problem. There just isn’t any reason for Four to exist.
I don’t think anyone needs to worry about musicians losing their voices any time soon.
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This talk of reverence and inheritance worries me. The idea that you should shut the fuck up because your progenitors haven’t yet been accorded their rightful due is so damn paralysing.
Once there was no “three songs, no flash” rule, now it’s industry standard in all but the small, local shows. Once there were no releases. Once there were no copyright-grabbing contracts.