Artist: Minus the Bear

Album: Omni

Reviewer: Ian Cohen

Pitchfork, 2010

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Ambiguity Sickness








Most Emo Phrase: “You confront that awkwardness from the first second”

Beer or Music?: “lite-funk trappings”




Ian, I originally planned to feature you in a post about Pitchfork’s dugout being bereft of black folk. And yes, through the magic of Facebook and Google, I’m able to check such things. I settled on you because whenever Pitchfork probes a record with two scowling black men on the cover, there’s a good chance your name’s in the byline. In the end I figured it wasn’t worth inciting hysteria by suggesting it’s a dumb idea reserving beats and rhymes for a white guy who writes about hip hop like Victorian cabinetry. I fully support people’s God-given right to type pretentious jargon about any genre of music regardless of color or race. The more the merrier for me. But I still think it’s telling how most of that jargon’s typed by hands lighter than a latte.

Anyway, I decided not to blow the racial powder keg, but just focus on your review of a band that would get red at the beach. There’s still plenty to joke about. Let’s start with your opening:

“Indie rock has often had an uneasy relationship with . While some bands in that realm are capable of ity and seduction, many would rather let the sonics do the work, and lyrically, it can be tough to reconcile base sensations with music that prides itself on its intelligence.”

Um…judging from that, I’d say your unease describing lovemaking is squirmier than any band’s. “It can be tough to reconcile the base sensations?” Wow. Do you make partners obtain zoning permits before entering your bed or are you still in the planning phase? If you can’t knock a band for singing the wrong bedroom jazz without making it sound clinical, maybe you should ease off the barb pedal. Half your review was devoted to niggling the singer’s idea of ing after all:

“adding a creepy dimension to the keg-hovering come-ons”

“You don’t need to be a soul-papa belter in order to talk about the passion”

“lyrics about the pleasures of the flesh that would be sketchy enough”

Hey, at least the guy sings about what’s coming out of his pleasure center. Maybe you could have provided us some of your own ual poetry for comparison, Ian. I certainly would have enjoyed it. Moving on…

There’s heaps of junk here I could rattle about for days, but alas, I’m bound by editing. Here’s a good example of the opposite of that:

“for a veteran band like Minus the Bear, newly signed to Dangerbird Records and known in the past for knotted, prog-spiked populist indie, it’s a move of baffling awkwardness.”

Female: Whatcha listening to?

Male: Minus the Bear.

Female: OH, I’ve heard about them! Aren’t they known for knotted, prog-spiked populist indie?

Male: [coldly]…Not anymore.

Jesus H. Christ, how about writing, “It’s an awkward move?” You know, like how applying 3 levels of made-up taxonomy to a band is AN AWKWARD MOVE. Baffling awkwardness…yeesh. I’m going to drop another example of your refusal to edit because you really need to see the problem to admit you have one, Ian.

“And yet, in a weird way Omni is actually kind of admirable.”

Ian, I had a high school English teacher who used to embarrass students by saying “kind of” like Yogi Bear every time they dropped word junk in discussions. If only you were so lucky. You already wrote “in a weird way.” You don’t need to follow it with “kind of.”

At first glance I wondered how you burned so many words on an album you detested, but it became clear how much you fluffed things up with go-to critical catch phrases. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a manual compiled for quick reference. Here’s a few in case you can’t pick them out on your own:

“it also boasts an immediacy and pop smarts”

“the issue lies in the incongruity of the delivery”

“pop and sheen that would make the most anonymous of 1980s corporate rockers proud”

Ian, if you click on “Read a Random Rip” on the right side of RipFork, you’ll probably come across something along the lines of those featherweights in other reviewers’ work. They’re a common affliction in your occupation.

I’m sure you need to study up on the latest pseudo-underground hum-thump populist-hop, so I’m going to cap this off with your one piece of faint praise for the band:

“And credit Minus the Bear for aiming to be something than just another competent indie band.”

If only they weren’t so clueless about what Ian Cohen likes.

Tags: Ambiguity Sickness, Jargon Palsy

Artist: Tunng

Album: …And Then We Saw Land

Reviewer: Andrew Gaerig

Pitchfork, 2010

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Ambiguity Sickness








Stuffiest Phrases: “factoring in the tendency,” “might say more about the prevalence of folk and electronic elements in modern indie”

Wow: “sort of remarkable”




Andrew, I noticed you had two reviews up on Pitchfork yesterday, so maybe this weakling is just a sign of being overworked. Good news! I hear now’s a great time to book a vacation away from writing lab reports on albums. The travel rates are low to sunny destinations where people listen to music for fun, not vivisection. After all, if you hadn’t tried to make this review into some profound commentary on a band struggling to fit into the “avant-folk crowd” and instead just focused on how the music affected you, it might not have been so awful. Maybe you wouldn’t have penned crud like this:

“Tunng now record folk songs that are sweetly… sweet. That’s an indictment, but less of one than it seems.”

Wow, thanks for clarifying. I was one step away from phoning my congressman to redress that whopper. Let me get this straight. Not only did you have to explicitly state you were indicting something, but you had to reassure us it’s less of an indictment than one that wasn’t clear enough in the first place? Are you soft in the head, Gaerig, or just full of sawdust?

From most angles here, I’d say the latter. I suppose plugging holes in logic isn’t a pressing concern for writers on a website that doesn’t allow comments, but I’m still annoyed. To wit:

“Tunng probably never deserved the laborious mini-genres they’ve been tagged with, as they fit neatly in a tradition of British bands who have a slightly warped take on pastoral folk”

Oh, and slightly warped pastoral folk isn’t a laborious mini-genre? I’m pretty sure you just tagged the species, genus, and family there, Linnaeus. Uncork the champagne; we’ve got a new organism for the books!

“Tunng’s fourth album, …And Then We Saw Land, contains few of the appealing crevices and pocks of their early work, but sees them developing as songwriters.”

This is getting ridiculous. How does an album of sounds “see” anything? That’s like saying a patched-up shoe sees a man developing as a cobbler. If you’re adamant about letting a noun like “album” lead the active voice, at least say that it shows, demonstrates, exhibits, reveals – that kind of stuff. Better yet:

“Tunng’s songwriting develops on their fourth album, …And Then We Saw Land.”

Golly, will you look at that! No anthropomorphizing and no vague references to “crevices and pocks” that could mean anything in music.  Are those the same “well-worn eccentricities” that you gave a cursory mention, or am I just not reading your filler closely enough? Oh well. If I struck out on those fluff bunnies, maybe I can boost my average down the line. There’s plenty of padding to go around. Check out these meaty insights:

“Tunng have outgrown and outlasted the restrictive genres they were once boxed into, but Saw Land struggles to find its place in a larger context.”

“Even factoring in the tendency for bands to grow less weird as they get older, Tunng’s move toward the middle is sort of remarkable.”

Here’s a fun activity, Andrew. Write out a list of all the adjectives you can think of and put the words “sort of” before each. It might be sort of illuminating. Before you do that though, tell your editor to check his BS filter. Looks like a whole lot got through the screen there. “Struggles to find its place in the larger context?” Wow, did you pay a buck ninety nine for that on QVC or did your dog write it? Two parts ambiguity isn’t the best recipe for a closing sentence.

Speaking of ambiguity, for someone who etched a decimal rating on this album with a laser, you don’t exactly make a strong case in the body.

“That’s an indictment, but less of one than it seems”

“songs that seem burlier”

“they seem a bit too Grizzly Bear”

“The Roadside” seems like something”

Andrew, I’m more likely to let an opinion writer out of the live well if he avoids absolutes, but if the word “seems” appears too much, it gives the impression he doesn’t know his ear from an . Maybe at this point you could have admitted you couldn’t see far enough up this band’s colon with your microscope and just said, “I liked this guitar riff” or “I didn’t care for that melody.” If people so -set on Grizzly Bear are going to skip this music, they’ll likely do it on the basis of sampling the songs, not your prose.

I’d love to stay, but it’s time to eat my Kashi, Andrew. Check Priceline for new low rates on that dream vacation to hemorrhoid-free music appreciation. It’s worth the price of admission.

Tags: Ambiguity Sickness, Jargon Palsy