In a famous review, Times music critic William Mann analyzed Sgt. Pepper’s using terms from classical music: “the tune of the song is recognizably mixolydian” and so forth. This was a sign of pop’s growing respectability, but it was also a sign of how the existing musical establishment didn’t really get what the Beatles were trying to do. Still, the guard gradually changed, and “music review” came to mean “pop review” as much as anything else. Now, though, another shift seems to be taking place. As music reviews die out but the music business remains a somewhat vital force, the most significant reporting on pop seems to be taking place under the heading of technology. And that’s a problem.
Take, for example, a recent CNN story about “the ever changing world of music sharing.” As technology reporting, it’s fine enough, telling us about a number of new services that allow people to share their listening habits. There’s a nod to the dubious legality of some of these, but the story is absent of any particular mention of the actual music being shared, although it does have a confusing High Fidelity reference.
Again, as technology reporting, this is fine. But as music reporting, it’s horrible. The services and devices are described as equally exciting without discussing their durability, sound quality, or userbase. One of the services in the article, known as Jook, is essentially worthless unless a lot of people buy and use it, as it’s a way for a user to physically share music tastes via broadcasting playlists; unless there are other Jook users around, the end effect is not unlike wearing a Laser Tag target while walking down a street, hoping for a game to break out spontaneously.
More than anything else, though, articles like these represent an absolute abdication of the responsibility to educate the public about new art. That High Fidelity ref is the reporter’s way of telling us that people don’t discover music “from a music nerd behind a counter”—or, implicitly, from a critic in a newspaper. They discover it, instead, through the devices that our intrepid technology reporter is introducing us to.
It’s true that CD sales are down so much that only a handful of releases can be discussed by a mainstream publication without fear of alienating the mass audience; any other music deemed worthy of a story is going to have to have some sort of “angle” attached to it. But the angle seems to have moved beyond music itself, and on to Web sites. And the funny thing is that there’s no reason to think that any of these services (save Twitter) will have a bigger reach than any major indie album or mid-level country, rap, or metal album.
The move to digital music was inevitable, and yeah, the music industry was unprepared for it. But, again, in our eagerness to embrace the brave new world, we become a little blind to its flaws. The universal jukebox is great, but when we focus on the jukebox, we start to ignore what’s actually inside it. Trust me on this: you do eventually get tired of listening to all the music that already exists, and you need more. For music to move from art form to fungible “content” entails a fundamental shift in its nature, making it less like Bach and more like porn: an endless stream of minor variations designed to fulfill a desire that no one talks about too much.
i like the points brought up by this post, especially the part about how focusing on the technology makes the overall reporting more ‘value-neutral’ as far as peoples’ tastes go. (although one could argue that holding web 2.no-ish blips like jook up for “ooh, pretty” consideration totally ignores peoples’ overwhelming aversion to dopey new technologies that require the purchase of instantly outdated hardware.)
think of the divide between profiles and criticism in a magazines; in that version, all of the bands get exposure (from profiles, FOB items, etc) but only a few get respect (positive notices in the back). now that the whole “you the only person who knows anything” model has taken hold, the idea of conferring respect has diminished in perceived importance. but then again, given that for the most part cultural reporting on tv doesn’t engage in criticism at all, thus conflating the notion of respect and exposure (”if they’re popular they must be worthy of being liked”), i have to wonder if this sort of coddled “you like what you like” attitude is the only way the entertainment tonight era could have turned out?
I also often think about (and try to be self-critical about) how the popular-equals-good ideology of the Entertainment Tonight era affects criticism: i.e. are we critics more prone to like something popular now, because it allows us to succeed by the new rules?
Good points, but I wouldn’t get quite so gloomy about things. The advent of recording technology early in the 20th century had the same Chicken Little effect in regards to fears of commodification that we’re seeing now, and music had some pretty good years there in spite of it.
As for the writing about technology/writing about music issue, it’s true that, not only in this particular instance, but in general, music gets overlooked these days in arenas that are supposedly about music. But this article in particular is in CNN’s technology section. The actual section that’s supposed to be about technology. Wouldn’t it be weirder if the article was about music?
Another thing I wish articles about music technology would engage with: what kind of music does each tool favor? The last.fm community, for example, has a very strong alternative rock bias. What does this tell us about the appeal of that technology to a specific demographic? Or are certain types of music better served by different services?
the end effect is not unlike wearing a Laser Tag target while walking down a street, hoping for a game to break out spontaneously
Sounds like a lost scene from Real Genius.
Maura’s point about the difference between respect and exposure is so OTM I might not think about anything else all day! (Well, aside from work.)
George Michael is looking more prescient all the time! Remember, he sued Sony way, way back around 1992 (just after Listen Without Prejudice) because he didn’t want his work to be regarded as “little more than software.”
The abdication of responsibility part is something I’ve been observing for a decade, yes. In particular, the idea that if you’re trying to write about interesting new music that isn’t arena-sized, you are somehow trying to pull one over on the reader. And sadly, this isn’t the readers talking (though it is sometimes): it’s the top editors who haven’t listened to new music in decades and insist that nothing has changed, when in fact everything has changed.