Andy Kellman’s review of “We Are Proud of Our Choices” by Ewan Pearson

Ewan Pearson

Artist: Ewan Pearson

Album: We Are Proud of Our Choices

Critic: Andy Kellman

Publication: Allmusic, 2010

Writing Disorders: Idea Fever, Toxic Tedium, Purple Hemorrhage

Longest Sentence: 61 words

Adverb Foul: “very nearly assaultive”



Andy, Allmusic reviews are essentially ad copy…and you’re not a copy writer. Exhibit Q:


“Yet this disc does have each one of its elder siblings’ charms: a gentle buildup and easy finish, extended trance-like passages, spongy rhythms, seemingly incongruent tracks melded with ease and restraint, almost subliminally tense transitions from menace to bliss, and even some whispered vocals, though the inner-growth monologue on Yukihiro Fukutomi’s emotive piano-house track “Open Our Eyes” is a bit much.”


Andy, I forgot to pack my jerky, and now I can’t get the fire hot enough to boil the parasites out of the meltwater I cupped from the stream, further hampering my progress in the metaphor I concocted about how your criminally long sentence is like a journey through Big Sky Country with no legs on a bum wheelchair.


That silly sentence was two words SHORTER than yours. I can’t even write a sentence that long without Herculean effort against the instinct to whittle it down. Yet nearly every review I’ve ripped on RipFork has had a sentence eclipsing 50 words. Should the Human Genome Project map the code behind that disorder, or am I just missing the irresistible majesty of uninterrupted thoughts stretching more than 2 feet long in 11-point Calibri?


But sentence length is only a fraction of your problems here, Andy. Read this next bit — preferably aloud:


“The set is at its busiest from the 12th through 16th (of 18) tracks, highlighted by Xenia Beliayeva’s “Analog Effekt,” released on Systematic but worthy of 240 Volts’ uniformly stark and sleek output, and the ecstatic, fully loaded John Talabot mix of Al Usher’s “Silverhum.”


Would you mind giving us an inclination of what a human thought of the album? This review reads like it came out of a freeware java app that translates sounds into text, but it’s a beta version still full of bugs. Here’s what I think, Andy. Since there’s so much music now readily available, it seems like a prime time to write like a fan, not an algorithm. Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re writing about music in the first place. If your motives include dazzling readers, outpacing other writers, and writing the most tedious but rapidly forgotten 250 words in your field, I’d say you failed at two.


Moving on…


“While Pearson would likely be flattered to be told that this disc resembles a hybrid of Michael Mayer’s Immer (stern, dramatic; Joy Division) and Triple R’s Friends (comparatively brighter and outgoing; New Order), he might also find the description a little limiting.”


Or maybe he’d be flattered if you wrote him an email and told him what you thought of his music, good or bad. Maybe I don’t understand musicians, but I figure this guy might feel uneasy reading a music critic’s fantasy about his reaction to a flattering comparison. How many acts are compared to 30-year-old bands every week? I reckon it loses its luster after a while.


I’m going to wrap this up because there’s only so much I can write about something this short, even when it’s this bad. But I want to give you a homework assignment. Write about this album again in a year. If you can’t connect it to your life in a way more meaningful than the bad copy you wrote here, then you’re listening to too much music for your own good.

5 thoughts on “Andy Kellman’s review of “We Are Proud of Our Choices” by Ewan Pearson

  1. Ugh. Why do people treat music like science projects!? Don’t be a music critic if you don’t love music, people, and don’t be a writer unless you can write. These guys forget that people who love music actually read reviews. I dunno. I feel like professional critics and professional musicians are really at odds when I read a review like this.

  2. I am amused by the mental image of you holding a ruler to your monitor, measuring out two feet of typed text.

    Keep it up!

  3. Sorry bro, besides a few runons and your english nazi-isms, I’d rather listen to a shitty writer that knows than a great writer who doesn’t. So by all means, attack a rating on its merits, but attacking the messanger is easy fodder.

    That’s a cute (retarded) touch at the end tho. Fuck those critics who are listening to too much music! Imagine if that was your job!

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