RipFork

Artist: The Notwist

Album: Sturm

Reviewer: Brian Howe

Pitchfork, 2010

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy

Unintentionally Hilarious Line: “the score comes to its quick conclusion with a distinct sense of, “That’s it?”

Brian, sometimes I’m so curious about the boys and girls behind bad music writing that I want to learn more. Often I’m confounded in my investigations, but I wasn’t disappointed when I ran the name Brian Howe through the Google. Much to my mirth, you buck the trend of cautious anonymity so central to stuffy music criticism. There’s no shortage of priceless photos of you – coyly sipping amber beverages, standing winsomely among the October trees, admiring the black and white summer behind giant sunglasses – as well as no shortage of links to your own “work.” You know, Brian, it takes a man of a certain gall to chide bands, especially when that man is a member of the “Lucifer Poetics Group” and the founder of “Glossolalia – a multimedia project including sound, video, and poetry.”

My kneejerk reaction a while back would be to probe into that treasure trove of emo juice, but I don’t judge art like that anymore, Brian. Rating artists is the province of grown-up boys who managed to foul out of kickball. I’m just here to make fun of your music writing. Maybe if there’s time, I’ll touch on how you carefully drape your silken hair over your left eye.

You’ve been featured on RipFork before, and I see that you’re still not fully conscious of the irony coming out of your fingertips:

“Brevity is great when it’s focused around moving themes or a sense of development, but the microtonal squalls and static melodies the Notwist work in here need more time to sink in, and are unproductive when portioned out over 11 tracks in under half an hour.”

You know when brevity’s also great, Brian? I’ll let you solve that puzzle on your own. Here’s a hint: 46. Are you exempt from brevity because your review is not at all focused around moving themes or a sense of development? I suppose the only moving theme in this review is your dubious logic. Take this, por ejemplo:

“But out of context, it just sounds like they gathered up all the usual haunting-soundtrack materials around them– glockenspiels and bowed xylophones, minimal pianos and strings, pressurized electronic loops– and failed to do anything with them except idle in a low gear.”

Ah yes, because minimal pianos and bowed xylophones work best when revved into overdrive. Everyone knows the best haunting soundtracks incorporate a 160 beat and intricate melodies that make you want to get up and dance. I realize you said “out of context,” but there’s a useful tool called imagination that might help tighten the bolts on this one.

Then there’s this lovely bit of WTF:

“The sonar pulse of “The Hague” eventually snaps into a canned trip-hop beat with grim inevitability”

What exactly is “grim inevitability” in music, Brian? Do I just not know enough about sonar pulses to realize that they’re fated to snap into canned trip-hop beats? I’ve seen Hunt for Red October, Crimson Tide, Das Boot, AND U-571 and don’t remember the tense scenes with nothing but the blips suddenly breaking into Portishead.

And then the true artist comes out in you, Brian, and you use that tool so central to the creative human experience: judging other people’s art.

“It’s not bad music, mostly, but it’s just like all the interstitial parts of a Notwist record knitted together, without any of their terrific songcraft to sustain them.”

If it’s not bad, mostly, then why did you rate the album a 3.4? Unless Pitchfork is suddenly playing by golf rules, then I’d say that rating constitutes bad, mostly.

…They mostly come at night. Mostly.

This bit is my favorite, though:

“It’s only fair to cut film scores some slack and judge them as non-canonical diversions.”

Only fair to judge, eh? You know, Brian, I’m sure you don’t think much of God, but there’s a line in the Bible book bearing my name that reads, “Judge not lest ye be judged.” In the interest of that quote, I’ve included something of yours here that my readers may enjoy. It’s a non-canonical diversion, if you will – a 10-minute Brian Howe poetry reading with props to boot. Dear readers, if you’re not into the whole brevity thing, you might want to skip to 4:32.

Thanks, Brian. Keep on hating.