simon reynolds: classic or dud

I think I can live without hearing this angry bro talking about Heidegger too many more times, but if there is one episode in his history of public interventions that I wouldn't mind witnessing again it is his epically inflamed stand-off with mild child Kate the Saint on Throwing Muses: Experiment vs Pop.

Elvis Costello and Martin Amis: Prophets of Doom
Simon Reynolds, Arena, Summer 1991
The highbrow hysteria of Elvis Costello and Martin Amis

Listening to his new album, Mighty Like A Rose, I had an abrupt, blinding thought: Elvis Costello is the Martin Amis of pop. For people who don't read many books and don't listen to many albums anymore, Amis and Costello are the only ones left who dare to go for the grand, over-arching vision of our time. They take the pulse of the age and diagnose the malaise. Nobody else has the ambition or temerity to take on this task, which is why Amis and Costello are seen, by some, as saving graces and solitary saviours.

Amis has made two stabs at encapsulating the fear and greed of the Eighties in Money and London Fields, with their Dickensian anti-heroes John Self and Keith Talent – repulsive incarnations of the era, pimples on the zeitgeist's backside. Costello, too, has been lunging for the Big Picture’s jugular for over a decade. His albums arc cross-sections of a diseased British body politic, drawing tile dots between personal and political squalor; between the husband's brutal fists and the election-winning war (Armed Forces was originally titled ‘Emotional Fascism’).

Against this backdrop of degraded private and public language, Amis and Costello dramatize themselves as solitary bulwarks against the moronic inferno of popular culture. Amis flinches and shudders at the masturbatory nature of remote-control culture (TV, porn, video games). Costello has produced perennial diatribes against tabloid culture, the ‘chewing gum for the ears’ of conveyor belt pop. On his new album, ‘The Other Side Of Summer’ is a predictably vituperative blast against dance culture: "The dancing was desperate, the music was worse." ‘Invasion Hit Parade’ similarly dramatizes Costello as one of the few who refuse to collaborate with the new regime of "non-stop Disco Tex and the Sexolettes".

For Amis and Costello, one of the reasons the world is in such a state is precisely because no one reads books or listens to albums any more – or at least the kind of books and the kind of albums that tell you what a state the world is in (precisely the kind they write and record). Both mourn the disappearance of substance in a world of superficial slogans and clichés, the withering of attention spans. For Amis, the role of the author has been usurped by soap operas, the gutter press, even style mags. For Costello, the problem is the decline of the songwriter in the face of a pop culture organized around videos, 12-inch remixes, the sampler and the DJ. In their embattled world view, the kind of audience they demand is an endangered species: people who’ve absorbed a lot of literature, who are schooled in the rock canon, and well-versed enough to get the references that riddle the Amis/Costello oeuvre. The prospect of a ‘disliterate’ population (technically literate, but who never bother to read anything), or, in Costello’s case, a rock culture no longer based on the reverential interpretation of lyrics, is terrifying. A future based around TV/ video/12-inch, rather than novels or albums, bodes a nightmare world of emotional illiterates, like John Self in Money, who doesn't have the self-analytical skills to know why he's fucked up, or the teenage girl in ‘The Other Side Of Summer’ who's "crying cos she doesn’t look like a million dollars", but "doesn’t seen to have the attention span" to work out how media and advertising have messed with her mind.

In the Amis/Costello universe, things are always dying: love, language, truth, the planet are all on their last legs. America has a particularly diabolic status; it’s the leading edge of the apocalypse, the original moronic inferno. The replacement of politics by advertising, the castration of rock 'n' roll, a junk culture where porn is the biggest grossing leisure industry, mugging, yuppies, MTV – you name it, the US trailblazes it. Amis and Costello document a Britain slowly succumbing to the crappiest aspects of US mass culture, but without the space and the naivety that is America’s saving grace. In America, the born-to-run reflex is a safety valve for class antagonism: people just move on. In Britain, rage festers and turns to bile. Amis and Costello have a vivid grip on the stuffiness of English culture: Amis is good on the modern British pub, stuck between the fustiness of tradition and the plastic tackiness of the future. Costello could have been a Springsteen, but, growing up in more confined circumstances, became a poet of claustrophobia rather than of wide open spaces.

In their early days, both of them were regarded as bitter and twisted misanthropes. Costello talked of how he only understood two emotions, "revenge and guilt"; Amis was renowned for stories that left a bad taste in the mouth. Both have mellowed with age, but their forte is still the banality of evil and the evil of banality: portraits of bastards, brutes, cheats and crushed inadequates. Revealingly, neither of them can ‘do’ women. Manipulative or manipulated, their female characters are ciphers. Nicola Six, the ‘heroine’ of London Fields, is even compared to a black hole, the ultimate misogynist metaphor.

Ultimately, this misogyny is just a facet of a general misanthrophy. Amis and Costello belong to a peculiarly British strain of satirical imagination, a tradition that includes Evelyn Waugh, the Ealing and Boulting Brothers comedies, and Private Eye. In this world, there are no heroes, only shits and the shat upon – an odious, privileged minority and the loathsome, downtrodden multitude. 'Good' characters aren't admirable, but despicably unworldly and naive, weak and gullible fools like Guy Clinch, the amorous fall-guy in London Fields.

Amis and Costello give this black, bilious brand of satire an apocalyptic, fin de siecle twist. London Fields was at one stage entitled ‘Millennium’; new Costello songs like ‘Invasion Hit Parade’ and ‘Hurry Up Doomsday’ are panoramic panic attacks. Through Amis's paranoid upper-crust eyes, the Portobello Road is transformed into a Hell's Kitchen of lowlife iniquity. Costello's distempered gaze pans across a culture rank with the stench of mendacity, rife with "professional liars" and "perpetual suckers", zombies and bloodsuckers. Like all apocalyptic visions the Amis/Costello line is prone to overstatement, over-ripe imagery, a certain stylistic overkill. And one problem always looms for the professional prophet of doom: how to keep on upping the apocalyptic stakes.

While Mighty Like A Rose suggests Costello is condemned to spurting exquisitely crafted bile in perpetuity, Amis has taken a sideways step with an oblique angle on the Big Picture. His work-in-progress, Time’s Arrow (previewed in Granta 31), borrows its premise from science fiction: the protagonist experiences time running backwards through the eyes of an American doctor called Tod Friendly. This has the salutary effect of making our everyday human procedures and transactions seem eerie and absurd; all power and energy mysteriously originates from the toilet bowl, kind-hearted pimps give money to whores who then squander it on old men, doctors make their patients sick and ambulance men rush victims from their hospital beds and painstakingly insert them into wrecked cars. Although the device has been used before in science fiction and comics, Amis does it well: after reading the Granta excerpt, it takes a while for the uncanny feeling of time running in reverse to wear off.

Abandoning the omniscient eye-view for a baffled and bemused first person is a smart move for Amis, and timely, too. The judgmental gaze is too sneering and know-it-all for these dazed and confused post-modern times. The leading edge in contemporary fiction and music aims to mirror chaos, not offer salvation from it. But this cutting edge can be hard to grasp for those who cling to an old-fashioned idea of art as re-inforcer of values or source of guidance. These people still look for an angry voice of sanity, a Big Figure to tell them what's going on.

Deploring the waning of literacy and the craft of songwriting, but lacking the energy to keep up with the state of the art, such middle-brow types look to Amis and Costello for reassurance: firstly, that the culture is still deteriorating; secondly, that they are on the side of righteousness. In reality, they're part of the problem.

© Simon Reynolds, 1991

Listening to his new album, Mighty Like A Rose, I had an abrupt, blinding thought: Elvis Costello is the Martin Amis of pop. For people who don't read many books and don't listen to many albums anymore, Amis and Costello are the only ones left who dare to go for the grand, over-arching vision of our time.

...and that's as far as I got.

Shame. You missed some tasty nuggets:

For Amis and Costello, one of the reasons the world is in such a state is precisely because no one reads books or listens to albums any more – or at least the kind of books and the kind of albums that tell you what a state the world is in (precisely the kind they write and record).

My local Borders book store outside Washington DC has marked down the paperback US version of Rip It Up to $3.99.

you guys...

amis/costello HOW DID I NOT SEE THE CONNECTION?

what a load of shit.

Simon Reynolds on "music-microcultures" (wtf?):

and another interesting post from Styx, drawing a parallel between writers workshops as mutual inhibition milieux with the way that mnml keeps itself on a leash

it probably works this way in lots of music micro-cultures: a sort of collective self-policing system where subtle administerings of approval and disapproval keep everyone cleaving to subtlety/restraint.... that safety zone where non de trop always teeters on the edge of non de script

especially when that peer-review homeostatic system is then enmeshed with a narrative of music having lost its way, "true people"

detroit techno and deep house true-pathers and pedagogues are an obvious example

backpackerland too

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This concept of "micro-cultures" strikes me as more than a little bit cheesy. Has anybody ever experienced these "administerings of approval and disapproval" that "keep everyone cleaving to subtlety/restraint" in any way shape or form outside the world of *ahem* music criticism? I think when you start lumping people's self-determined preferences and tastes (i.e. i have a penchant for early 80s synth pop, 60 british psych, whatever) with some kind of cultural tag you're essentially stereotyping the way that people consume/create music. As if the genre of "MNML techno" is somehow self-aware! And it prefers early 80s synth pop to 60s british psych!?! This all sounds ass-backwards to me...

Some people recognize that to achieve subtlety and effectiveness in music composition/production takes rare skill & talent. Use the word "music" however loosely you like.

Additionally, there is no single ideal within "MNML techno" or any other genre for that matter. There may be "rules" but every musician carries there own ideals as to what constitutes "good music". And obviously these values are always constantly in flux.

Simon's monolithic view of musicians is so tired and naive.

"a sort of collective self-policing system where subtle administerings of approval and disapproval keep everyone cleaving to subtlety/restraint": Anyone who's participated in a "scene" could come up with dozens, if not hundreds of examples to support this. Examine the hundreds of sub-genres of punk rock and try and work out how they police the borders of their genres.

This would almost make sense if dance music wasn't driven by novelty.

Even the old school underground 12" culture that SR refers to in this article is a lot more diverse and inclusive that he would like to admit. Where exactly are the boarders of Dam Funk, Walter Jones, Floating Points, Theo Parrish, Sun Ra, Burial, and Ace and the Sandman? What happens when somebody throws something else into that pot unexpectedly and it works? Does everybody in this loose grouping of people like exactly the same tracks by the same artists in the same way for the same reasons?

Not all dance music is driven by novelty. Most of it isn't. Perhaps it's easy to think of examples which contradict his presumption, but it's just as easy to come up with examples that fit it. He's not saying it's universal.

"Does everybody in this loose grouping of people like exactly the same tracks by the same artists in the same way for the same reasons?"

I don't think that's what the quote suggests at all. I think it's more of a truism point that if a scene has a basic (albeit loosely) defined set of ideas about what characterises the music within the scene, stuff that falls within the scope defined by those ideas will generally be more successful than stuff that doesn't.

I think the mistake in the quote (or in connection with it) is sr's persistent mischaracterisation of minimal as being fixated on subtlety/restraint/refinement - compare/contrast with pipecock's longstanding complaints that minimal is ignorant of history, to steeped in rave culture and drug culture.

I tend to think of minimal (though this is less clear now than it was, say, two to three years ago; mind you "minimal" as a term is much less prevalent than it was then too) as being something of a covalent accomodation between subtlety/restraint/refinement on one hand and raviness/populism on the other. I can sort of see why such an accomodation makes it the worst of all possible worlds for some people, sacrificing whatever positive values those listeners locate in music at either end of that pole. But I think sr's characterisation is off the mark to the extent that it fails to perceive that act of compromise.

However, if anything the very fact that minimal was aiming for a balancing act makes the process of border-policing that much more interesting - e.g. in 2005-2006 big trance riffs were quite common, but by 2007 this option was considered too naff I think. Whereas you simply don't hear trance riffs in "proper" techno (which is not to say you don't hear other forms of anthemic melodicism).

that quoted bit from SR takes out the link to my blog, i guess he was trying to diss us for not being trendy. i wish him lots of luck with that.

i don't understand why the "self policing" of a "microscene" is a bad thing. i for one am quite glad that the nights i go to don't play hipster electro, dubstep, or any number of other trendy shit genres i have no interest in hearing. i don't believe that it is so tightly constrained as he makes it out to be, otherwise it wouldnt remain interesting to anyone. if anything, the "microgenre" i deal with is definitely growing but without getting wack or adopting nonsensical things from outside of its general purpose in order to be cute or ironic.

"I tend to think of minimal (though this is less clear now than it was, say, two to three years ago; mind you "minimal" as a term is much less prevalent than it was then too) as being something of a covalent accomodation between subtlety/restraint/refinement on one hand and raviness/populism on the other. I can sort of see why such an accomodation makes it the worst of all possible worlds for some people, sacrificing whatever positive values those listeners locate in music at either end of that pole. But I think sr's characterisation is off the mark to the extent that it fails to perceive that act of compromise.

― Tim F"

i don't think that there needs to be any compromise in order for a genre to be popular and good at the same time. i do see your point though, and maybe that is part of my irritation with it. i see too many parallels with the weaknesses of "progressive house" for it to be okay with me, but that is probably what allows it to be all magazine cover and Ibiza.

I should note that I meant "compromise" in the sense of two contradictory impulses mutually agreeing to meet somewhere in the middle, rather than in the more specific sense of letting go of a principled stance in the name of populism.

But I can also see how, for you, in the case of minimal, those two meanings of the term would both apply.

On fragmentation, Arcade Fire, and other things

can we please move past picking apart everything this guy says

^ for real

"Picking apart" = "discussion"

can we please move discussing everything this guy says

oops, move past

i suppose saying it was all of a good standard, theres just too much of it is one way of looking at it. or you could say most of it was just of an okay standard, but thanks to money being less of an issue in making something 'professional' you could seem better than you in fact are.

can we please move discussing everything this guy says

move to Cape Of Good Hope imo

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/musicblog/2010/jan/04/clearing-up-indie-landfill

Interesting article, but I think he never heard The Strokes: "The Strokes had a curious post-techno precision and propulsiveness to their sound, their mathematically plotted, grid-like songs at times resembling Daft Punk if they actually had gone punk rock."

That's a fairly standard line on them actually.

"At the start of the noughties, indie was seen as the rubbish dump of contemporary music. But by the end of the decade, it had produced some of the most impressive sounds"

really?

i would have said the opposite

well that was the subeditor's paraphrase. as usual it may or (more likely) may not be an accurate précis of the article in question.

It's a pretty accurate summary of the article.

I guess it depends on what you think of Micachu and the Shapes.

Who do not sound at all, remotely, in any way shape or form, like grime, whatever sr says.

Moratorium on grime as placeholder for "rather odd sounds that are either electronic or percussive" plz.

I'm guessing it's more a placeholder for 'feisty girl from London who is a bit shouty' more than anything tho

is it reynolds who's saying that micachu is influenced by grime, or is it micachu who says so?

what do you, o critics, do with artists whose explicitly stated influences and "stuff they listen to/consume/dj on a regular basis" don't quite match up with what you think their resultant product sounds like?

x-post - I thought that was dealt with by the "riot grrrl" part of the "riot grrrl meets grime" equation.

karen - I would say "micachu say they listen to/consume/dj this thing and they sound like that thing"

maybe they are consuming and being influenced by different elements of their stated musical elements than you are able to hear

Maybe, in which case you can say so in your piece.

Sure the critic doesn't have a monopoly on interpreting the music at hand, but nor should they ignore the evidence of their ears, else their job would be simply to reprint the press release (of course it's going that way...)

franz ferdinand used to go on about being into crunk and R&B but i could never hear it in their music. not even a bit. even if they had just shouted 'okayyyyy!' on a remix i would have been a bit more impressed. but dont bands always do this? like stone roses going on about all the black music they were into but not really sounding much like those genres (even if they were more heavy/groove based then the competition, which arguably is prob better than sounding explicitly like an influence).

franz ferdinand used to go on about being into crunk and R&B but i could never hear it in their music. not even a bit.

Not sure they ever claimed to be attempting to put it there really

I do think the tendency to conflate statements of "we like x type of music" in the course of an interview (in response to a question, or part of a conversation, remember) and "we are trying to sound like x type of music" is confused far too much

Yes, yes, of course.

Note I am referring to SR's description of Micachu etc. rather than what they themselves say.

What's odd is he specifically commends The Klaxons for not conflating "we like x" with "we must sound exactly like x".

i was gonna say, in an interview i'd mention what the band are into (along with whatever authors, artists etc they like) (if any of this is interesting), in a review who cares what they say. in a longer review there might be room to go into eg the xx effect, whereby they say they're influenced by one thing, don't much sound like it but if you squint you can see where they've taken up certain qualities that that thing values.

calculating how much you'd have to pay me to read that SR article.

i don't think that s.reynolds is attempting to 'ignore the evidence of his ears' but that his ears may be picking up on evidence different than yours - what would be your ear-evidence of 'grime' signifiers, if you have discounted 'rather odd sounds that are either electronic or percussive'? just curious.

"I do think the tendency to conflate statements of "we like x type of music" in the course of an interview (in response to a question, or part of a conversation, remember) and "we are trying to sound like x type of music" is confused far too much"

true enough, but bands often use 'we like x music/genre' as if to signal that x genre/artist is somehow imbued in their own music. kind of like piggybacking off a certain edgier sound/artist even if the influence is sketchy at best (sometimes obv the influence can be pretty subtle, i know, doesnt have to be overt, but a lot of the time its just PR crap.

not read the article yet but i hope SR mentions hadouken!

the xx effect, whereby they say they're influenced by one thing, don't much sound like it but if you squint you can see where they've taken up certain qualities that that thing values.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^because this to me looks quite more common from a music-producer point of view than a lazy journo giving things a casual listen, not hearing what they expect in terms of genre signifiers and dashing off in another direction

but of course i may be biased given that i've only ever been a music-producer and never been a journo lazy and casual-of-ears or otherwise

i don't think that s.reynolds is attempting to 'ignore the evidence of his ears'

that'd be a shocking departure from his usual then

well i dont actually, they were shit, but they did actually mix grime and indie.

Karen I would expect anything that even remotely resembled actual grime sounds like a grime beat maybe. Grime does not equal any electronic or percussive odd sound y'know.

Funnily enough "riot grrrl with production from herbert" conveys the sound of the album much better.

but of course i may be biased given that i've only ever been a music-producer and never been a journo lazy and casual-of-ears or otherwise

Hmm I better cede the point now in the face of this serious cred-move. You might also profit from describing critics as failed musos at this point.

idk im not reading the article but that description of the strokes is reeeeaaaaaaching to a ridic extent.

i'm not going for a cred move, i'm simply stating the fact that people who compose music tend to listen to music in a completely different *manner* than people who do not. i'm not saying that it's better or worse, it's just a structural or compositional way of listening to music which will catch different things

for instance, hearing beats as the one and only sole signifier or a genre as opposed to hearing atmosphere or instrumentation or methods of working

or for example hearing 'shouty girl' as being evidence of being slotted into the 'riot grrrl' genre and nothing else - which is more than enough evidence of your laziness as a critic

there are very many things wrong with that s.reynolds article but spotting a 'grime' influence in micachu simply isn't one of them