Hipsters & Grandmothers Weekend Social

I'm a fan of Pitchfork. There aren't enough media outlets willing to write suitably biting reviews of things. (Not that that's all Pitchfork does, but they are at least willing to put the boot in occasionally.) I've virtually given up on most music journalism because of the dearth of outraged partisans who hate ninety-five percent of new releases. If you're reviewing an album, and you think it's mediocre, be as harsh as possible. It's more entertaining to read, and to properly say why you hate something you have to describe it well enough that the review will at least be informative - as opposed to the anodyne crap they print in the likes of Rolling Stone - even to someone who really likes the thing you're reviewing.

Case in point: this rather well-done review of Lambchop's Nixon, a record which is one of my favorite things ever. I completely disagree with the conclusion - basically "This band blows because my grandmother prefers to listen to the Pixies" - and poor mumbling old Kurt Wagner takes some shots for his interesting deployment of falsetto, but I enjoyed the review very much. I would have liked it better if it hadn't been so respectful.

One comment, though:

But while it's hard to imagine hating Lambchop, it's also hard to believe they could be anyone's favorite band.

I'm up on the seventh floor with the windows open, Victoria Park spread out below me and the city beyond it, "Up With People" playing as loud as possible, Wagner is mumbling something about "a welfare state of the soul", and to that assertion I say: Nonsense.