Album: Thug Motivation 103: Hustlerz Ambition

Reviewer: Jayson Greene

Pitchfork, 2012

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Ambiguity Sickness

Hi Jayson. I’m going to start with something you all seem to like:  a long analogy.

I’m reading Game of Thrones, on page 134. And in Game of Thrones, there’s pretty much the Dothraki and the white folks. And before every nerd drops his nob to get it through my idiot head that Dothraki are ACTUALLY based on Abyssinian warriors or something…just give me a minute here.

Anyway, Jay, reading your review of this black man’s album got me thinking about the Dothraki and what it’d be like if some bookish little Lannister got a grant to study the way they do things out in the open like that. Maybe he’d write how their body of song “somehow seems both airless and over-inflated” too.

And for anyone itching to mash whatever racism button’s closest…relax. I’m just saying that a man writing things like “satisfyingly huge- and evil-sounding” about a guy’s rap album is making me laugh.

Now Jayson, it’s cool to find fault with any or every rap album. And hell, feel free to write about it — that’s why the keys are there. But really man, roll your shoulders a bit…get those kinks out — relax — ain’t a black guy gonna jump through the window and knife you in the kidney if you write in plain English that his brother can’t rap past a 6.8.

So for the love of Christ, please never write “satisfyingly” or “shockingly” or “baldly” again. The first two shouldn’t even be adverbs and the other one looks like BADLY — like Jayson Greene writes BADLY.

I could crack your writing in half it’s so stiff. READ THIS. Really. Read it.

“The hoary details of the song’s poverty lament”

“appearance by of-the-moment ATL star Future aside”

“You can hear the lack of organic excitement”

Enlighten me, Jayson. What organically excites a man like yourself? I’m reading that, wondering if there’s more or if I’m supposed to guess. Well, I’m going to guess.

“You can hear the lack of organic excitement you’d get from juicing a grapefruit”

Silly? Well at least then you’re giving me a vantage point instead of just moistening the sideline of black culture with ambiguous jargon so you don’t upset anyone. Maybe if you took half a second to remember it’s possible to write without sounding like NPR’s anus, you wouldn’t swing with goofy-ass nonsense like this:

“Nothing much is visibly wrong with Thug Motivation 103“

Ah, right, because you usually hear music instead of see it. Or since there’s nothing visibly wrong (to the ears), you had no choice but to push deeper into dog whistle frequencies. Oh, sorry, am I being too literal? Okay, let’s go back to you being a ginger snap

“a verse…that induces misplaced nostalgia shivers for classic Lauryn Hill”

Jeez Jay, I was beginning to think all this crummy writing was really just a Batman alter ego to your everyday Bruce Wayne sense of clarity. Now I’m not so sure. So you’re telling me if you got a chance to tell this fellow what you thought of his music, you’d say it makes you think of Lauryn Hill — and shiver — but not in the right place? That’s hella…oh, what’s the word…weird.

What I’m really getting at here, Jayson, is that you’re making the road to breezier race relations a nudge harder by writing about rap like it’s a very interesting type of slime mold. If stuff written about black music by white men is going to be this graham cracker stiff, then maybe we should just go back to listening to the stuff because we like doing it and telling our friends what we think.

…not probing “dubious sociopolitical implications” or describing a “head-spinning cross-breed of trap-rap and cloud rap.”  Speaking of that, why does trap-rap get a hyphen and cloud rap doesn’t? And speaking of THAT, wtf is cloud rap? Again, is there more to that or am I supposed to guess? You might enlighten your readers, because I’m pretty sure, like, 14 people on the Internet are aware of that particular subgenre.

Jay, it’s been a year and a half since I last featured you here, and this is your third appearance. I’m not asking you to dumb it down.  Just for the love of God, loosen up a bit. It’s easy. Just let it flow…like rap.

Album: Spills Out

Reviewer: Paul Thompson

Pitchfork, 2012

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Infectious Punctuation

Word Barf: “Pterodactyl wrest cohesion from calamity by soldiering surefootedly through all these far-flung juxtapositions”

Paul, there’s usually gentle irony when music lice grope albums in their public diary entries. Like Ian Cohen writing 1,500 words about an album with “Hurry Up” in the title. Or something like this:

“…manages to revel in its own clutter.”

I’d invite anyone with a free semester to sort through Paul’s opening paragraph and persuade me it does anything else but that.

You know son, a few months ago I had to listen to an engineer lecture for five hours on stainless steels in nuclear power plant construction. He managed to make more sense than you.  And from what I salvaged out of your trainwreck, you’re just talking about men hitting drums and strumming strings, not lamellar tearing processes in boilers. Believe it or not, people actually listen to this stuff called music for what’s called fun, or what you might call:

“marching its way directly into your pituitary region”

Ah, but it’s much more complicated than that — stupid me. Like this, for example:

“something of a mid-album mini-suite of thick, woozy psych.”

Paul, I think you could drop the “something of” when you’re being that anally specific. Read this:

Dixon Bainbridge:  Indeed, upon the ridge, I observed something of a rare species of Okapi only seen in the light of the Djibouti moon!

What are you afraid of? Someone might write you a stern email asserting it was NOTHING of a mid-album mini-suite of thick, woozy psych? By the way — if that ever happens, please forward me his contact info.  I want to study him.

But what miffed me most is that underneath all that word crap is really just you phoning in an article. Maybe I’m way off the mark, but the following phrases scream, “I really have nothing to say, but I have to not get paid for this article by Thursday COB.”

“sometimes smacks of eclectic overextension”

“they’re downplaying their strengths in favor of an experiment”

“…melody’s always fared best when matched to forward motion”

Ohhhhhh…forward motion! I just KNEW the Backward Billies had it wrong. You see Paul, the big reason Pitchfork really corkscrews my bunghole is the way it works like a puppy mill, churning out thousands of words on albums that the writers couldn’t care less about half the time. Couldn’t you just write 10 words about your favorite track and post a link instead of rewriting the Affordable Care Act on an album’s melodies?

I’m old and deranged, so maybe you can help me out since I’m struggling to understand why you even wrote this. Fame? Enjoyment? Posterity? Chicks? Any of that? I think we need to have a Miyagi moment and wax off together because your priorities seem royally screwed up, Paul, whatever they are.

*And before the comments roll in to ba-ZING me, I wrote this because I think this man writes like a catheter gives oral sex.

Album: The Illusion of Safety

Reviewer: William Grant

Drowned in Sound, 2010

Writing Disorders: Scorn Disease, Jargon Palsy








Stuffiest Phrase: “an ironic stab at the vacuous nature of that which it fit into”

Spoon uppa Ass: “I by no means profess to be any sort of modern pop obsessive”




William Grant, if you’re a girl, I apologize. Jess Harvell ruined my boner when she ended up being a dude, so I’m taking names with a grain of salt these days. I can take a better stab at what’s in your pants with a picture, but more on that later. Don’t soil your ovaries if I got your gender wrong, he-man. Now let’s focus on your review.

I didn’t like it. Almost as much as you didn’t like this Hoosiers album. I’d still have beef with you giving bands the rusty trombone even if you weren’t a bad writer.  But you are a bad writer, Will, so let’s run with that:

So, with that in mind, what can be said about The Illusion Of Safety is that if you have any inclination towards the beautifully intricate synthesized pop of the Eighties, and hence a lot of modern accessible Shiny Songs, then the opening double gambit will, remarkably, make you quite happy.

So…after all that cotton, you’re saying folks who like ‘80s synth pop will like two songs on this album? I’m guessing none of your teachers ever graded for editing. Try rereading your stuff every once in a while without a hand down your waistband and you might catch the declutter bug.

You write like most other music lice in their twenties, but a couple times you broke free of the pack. That’s no compliment. Nothing blue balls my brain worse than the word “esque,” and you really took it to a whole new level of pussy footing:

Lead single ‘Choices’ has an almost Hot Chip-esque synth line

Ugh. Dude, consider what you wrote there.  Almost-esque.  You’re saying this lead single was hardly almost like something.  That’s like saying Claire Danes’ peaches are almost Heather Graham-esque.  I mean, they ARE breasts, but not quite. Consider something in the future, kid. If you’re gonna compare, try standing on a leg stronger than a used tampon.

I don’t reckon your listening rivaled the time spent making the album, but you rained down static all the same. After mentioning the first two songs, you had this to say:

Unfortunately, despite their gallant strides, the rest of the album is a chore.

So let me get this straight, Will. You’ll burn time dissecting a synth line down two levels, but 5/6 of an album of music is just a chore? Like emptying the trash or cleaning the fish tank? Thank god you explained all the lazy with a whole new paragraph. It was even 11 words longer than your opening anecdote about serving cider to men! Phew. For a minute I thought you were being lazy.

Well shit. Let’s back up the smack with some staggering William Grant prose:

as well as a a serious not to the idea of the ‘hook’.

Hold on a second while I pen a quick note. Dear Drowned in Sound editors – when one of your minions writes himself into a seizure, it’s your job to clean up the mess. Two typos in the span of three words? Put that on a resume.

Okay. Sorry about that, Will. For the love of Christ, edit your own shit, dude.

I’d wrap this up so you can go find another hobby, but I’m not going to let you off so easy. I promised more about that picture of you after all. I peed myself giddy at this new evidence suggesting Drowned in Sound writers shop at the same creepy milkman store:





Will, take a knee. Do you understand what you look like in those things?  You look like a sex offender.  I’m sure you’re just expressing yourself or something, but I don’t reckon rapist glasses are pushing you almost-esque toward a straight girl or gay man’s favor.* Men need to bang, and those things aren’t helping.

Baby steps though. Keep niggling musicians for not pleasing your ear. Can’t be making drastic change right out of the gate. I’ll be checking in.




* Or whatever combos they have these days under the T and Q.

Album: As Good as Gone

Reviewer: Jared Bier

Tiny Mix Tapes, 2010

Writing Disorders: Jargon Palsy, Ambiguity Sickness








Irony: “for the sake of convenience”

Rise of the Machines: “the album — a distinctively aggregate entity”




Jared, back when I was a music louse, I used to write reviews like yours here — maybe not as hard to read, but just as vague and pointless. Judging from the vapid copy, I’m guessing you weren’t too thrilled about reviewing this Nudge album. Maybe you plucked it off a thin list surrounded by screamo albums. Maybe your editor cleared the backlog onto you. Maybe you burned the week procrastinating. I don’t know. If it’s any consolation, I reckon most critics would have forced the same four paragraphs of airy jargon too. It’s easier than admitting you have nothing to say.

This whole review could have been about three sentences long, but you padded it fluffy enough to nap.  I nearly did after reading stuff like this:

“With some genealogical backtracking, one could probably put together a rather convincing argument suggesting common antecedents and, thus, the common qualities shared by these aforementioned genres, but the album skitters about too often to reveal the connections.”

Jared, I’m gonna let the lard speak for itself because that ridiculous sentence got me thinking of something else. Sometimes I wonder what critics would sound like if they actually sat down with a band to criticize them mouth to ear. I reckon you’d probably just clutch your knees and mumble praise, but based on your writing, anything’s possible:

Jared: Hi guys, this was a solid 50% effort, but next time you might want to skitter less. I think it would help weirdos like me better ascertain connections between common antecedents after a good genealogical backtracking.

I really hope Matt LeMay is the only outcast in a world where critics confine their jargon to the internet. If you really blow stuff like that past your lips in conversation, I’d recommend drugs.

It probably wouldn’t hurt. You’re not the clearest cat in the alley, Jared, and it’s your own fault. Whatever miniscule points you make get buried under all the clutter heaped on top. Read this:

“Nudge’s isn’t by any means a brand that thwarts all stylistic categorization”

Now read this alternative:

“Nudge’s style doesn’t thwart categorization.”

Ahhhh…Allegra.  Want another example? Good, because I’m giving it:

“And for every such triumph, Nudge roll around to throw a monkey wrench into the whole business of tidying up”

Jared, I’m assuming the most important part of that sentence is the monkey wrench throw.  So why did you need to say Nudge rolled around to throw it?  Is it imperative to specify they didn’t sneak up, bellyflop in, or shuffle over? When you’re writing about a band with a common verb for a name, it’s maybe not a good idea to follow it with two verbs.

It’s disappointing to see you on RipFork again for mostly the same reasons — jargon, tedium, ambiguity.  Your reviews make listening to music sound like scrubbing limescale, but for what? What’s the payoff? After clogging a short review with all that piffle, you concluded As Good As Gone “lacks…unity.”  Whoa, call the fire department to douse those flames. Insight alert.

Let’s wrap things up, Jared. I’d like to spit out your cotton ball so I can go earn money. I think one of your criticisms aimed at the band can help illustrate a cure for your own bad writing:

“would have benefited from a few more pieces serving to fill in the gaps.”

Considering the gaps in this review, you might want to look in the mirror, kid.

Album: /\/\/\Y/\

Reviewer: Jonathan Dean

Tiny Mix Tapes, 2010

Writing Disorders: Idea Fever, Jargon Palsy, Toxic Tedium








Review Length: 1,184 words

Irony: “attempting to mask its own vacuity by trading on the readymades of authenticity”




Being an editor for Tiny Mix Tapes must be the easiest job in the world. I’d been suspicious all along, but this latest glob of gristle really drove it home. Y’all work weekends doing nothing or is it strictly 9-5? I’d be amazed if you clowns even check the band name before publishing a review. I guess it all looks the same on a résumé.

Even though a fourth grader could have edited this stinker better than “Jay” in the editing department, you’re the one who wrote it, Jon. Blame’s on your shoulders. How much longer did you spend writing this junk than listening to the album? I don’t get the impression you burned many of those hard hours editing, focusing arguments, or choosing words judiciously. When you write for a zine with D-Team quality assurance, responsibility begins with you. You really dropped the ball.

Jon, bear in mind Tiny Mix Tapes does nothing to jazz up text. No pictures, barely any links – just paragraph after boring paragraph of word junk. You were already one of the most long-winded critics I’d encountered when I first featured you, and you didn’t take your foot off the pedal this time. When the body of your review leaves sidebar elements in the dust, it’s usually a good indication you should wind things down.

So many sentences were ripe for picking, but here’s a slice off your first paragraph to start:

“Because of her willful and calculated aestheticization of the subaltern — third-world poverty, radical politics, terrorism, and guerilla warfare — her critics have consistently sought to derive a coherent politics from M.I.A.’s postmodern dance pop.”

I’ve got a lot here, Jon, so I’ll break it down piecemeal. I want you to start by thinking of the words “willful” and “calculated.”  Something calculated is willful by definition, wouldn’t you say? You could have plucked two feathers off this fat chicken by omitting the redundant one. A few hundred more and you might have had a hot meal instead of a feathery bowel movement. Next!

“derive a coherent politics”

I’m sure folks will rush to your defense on this one, but I’ve never heard a dude say he’s going to run for office because of a politics. That sounds weird. I just figured it was a typo until I caught “an ethics” en route to “a politics” once again in the last paragraph. Maybe I just don’t have a chops for pairing plural nouns with singular indefinite articles, but I still think it’s needlessly confusing. Next!

“aestheticization of the subaltern”

Jon, if that’s even a word, it shouldn’t be. Forget about belting it three times fast – try saying “aestheticization” once out loud. Just once…try it. Since you used some form of the word “aesthetic” six times in this review, you really could have left that clunker home. Instead, you dropped the same deuce in your closing paragraph with two other silly words ending in –ation.

“deterritorializations”

“valorization”

Jon, has it ever crossed your mind that maybe music (or writing) isn’t best served by such retarded shop talk? If you’re going to make up words to explain how a girl didn’t lick your balls the right way, try keeping them under 21 letters.

I know, I know. Brevity’s not your thing. I mean, how could it be? A dude who carped on this album for “lurid didacticism” and “telling rather than showing” couldn’t possibly sink to such an uncouth level of understanding. Well bravo, Jon. In the salmon run to bash this album in the most roundabout way, you definitely edged ahead of your peers. It never ceases to amaze me when I see music critics ream artists for sub-par writing…with sub-par writing. Here’s one of my favorite bits:

“The Message” emphasizes the hyper-stimulation and over-connectedness of post-smartphone reality in a particularly clumsy, ham-fisted way”

Oh, but writing four hyphenated compounds in 20 words is graceful, Jon? And aren’t we still IN the smartphone reality? No one calls the invasion of Poland a “postwar” event or Full House a “post-television” show. That’s dumb.

I could bury your essay in red ink all night long, but I think the worst part is the way you constructed it. I feel like a broken record bitching about music lice never using the word “I,” but this time it just got completely out of hand. Way I see it, the only thing worse than writing absolute statements in the 3rd person about an album is making your narrator unsure of himself:

“it cannot help but seem”

“it seems an irresistible temptation”

“seemingly formulated to frustrate”

“seems to fall apart by design”

“seems paradoxically to emerge”

Jon, dropping “seems” that much in an album review written like a definitive treatise just gives the impression you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And isn’t that the whole point of omitting yourself from your own opinion? To sound like you know what you’re talking about? Like a journalist? Well, kudos to you for giving the media an even worse reputation. But hey, at least it’s not truffle fries.