RipFork

Artist: Julianna Barwick

Album: Florine

Reviewer: Brian Howe

Pitchfork, 2009

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Purple Hemorrhage, Idea Fever

Longest Sentence: 70 words

Most Emo Phrase: “Glassian waterfalls of piano”

RipFork log, stardate 2009. Day 48 of my journey to find a rock critic who didn’t attend a liberal arts college. Failure once again. Grim signs of English degrees are littered about the place:

“the moment when the spiritual seems to lose ground to the postmodern”

“This blend of uplifting sounds and postlapsarian concept”

“into the more fluctuant realms of leftfield pop and post-minimalism”

They say that the emo kids of this land leave these sinister calling cards…”post hyphen isms”…to mark where the victims of their impenetrable prose fell to its dark power. It is a worrying sign, but I shall press on. Setting my weapon to “stun.”

But really, Brian, this is sad. I’m starting to think Legolas of Mirkwood wrote this review, not Brian Howe of the world of men. Read this:

“the misty forest of Barwick’s voice”

“The mood is blissful and bewitching; lost, but somehow secure”

“when “The Highest” dips into tones of serene lament, her sacred equanimity begins to slide”

You know, if this whole writing gig doesn’t work out for you, Brian, your skills would be most welcome guiding the Fellowship back to the foot of Caradhras. Look, it’s cool if you want to write what your keen elf senses detect when you listen to a record. It’s a very poetic process indeed, but that’s not the purpose of the exercise you’re supposed to be performing. If you give ratings to music, you’re a judge. Render a verdict. What you’re writing now looks like a diary entry. And that’s a bit too private for comfort.

And while 70-word sentences are fine in diaries and James Joyce novels, they don’t do so well in web reviews. Read this.

“Except maybe this: Barwick has remarked that the album was inspired by her memories of playing music without instruments in church, and the course it charts, out of the choir loft and into the more fluctuant realms of leftfield pop and post-minimalism, could represent… gosh, all kinds of narratives: the loss of received values, the fading of religious conviction, the basic human learning curve from clean myth to murky reality.”

Fun activity: If you read that bit out loud, it sounds like the eaves of mental illness. But I digress to the negatives, Brian. I’ll end this on a lighter note with a line that left me in stitches.

“”Choose” chirrups like Enya doing Kate Bush”

Not that I have any idea what “chirruping” is, Brian, but it’s funny to imagine what it could mean if Enya was rubbin’ all over Kate Bush.

…oh, you meant the song chirruped as if Enya was performing like Kate Bush. Well, I don’t think I was remiss in my interpretation. Read it dude. Enya doing Kate Bush.

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