Why is Robert Christgau held up to such esteem?

Why is Robert Christgau held up to such esteem?

Other urls found in this thread:

robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=King Crimson
robertchristgau.com/get_gl.php?g=A+
robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=Aphex Twin
twitter.com/NSFWRedditVideo

I don't know, why?

He popularized modern rock music criticism and he's been working consistently for almost 50 years.

He didn't though

Literally who

He got in early and has been doing it for a long time. A lot of wikipedia pages for albums have him on them.

Not trying to start a flame war, but how does popularizing rock criticism (and even admitting to disliking art/prog rock) make his opinion to such a level of esteem, that Questlove devalued Pitchfork in favor of Christgau's one man opinion. Correct me if I am wrong, but some of Christgau's reviews are like two sentences (look at Since I Left You by The Avalanches for example).

he's not, he's just linked to on a lot of dadrock album "critical reception" sections on wikipedia and calls himself the "dean of american rock critics"

I don't hold him in high esteem for any other reason than he has good taste. Straight up.

His A+ are all albums I would reserve my own highest honour for.

Your taste is absolute dogshit.

>The fact that so many books still name Robert Christgau as "the greatest or most significant or most influential" rock critic ever only tells you how far rock criticism still is from becoming a serious art. Jazz critics have long recognized that the greatest jazz musicians of all times are Duke Ellington and John Coltrane, who were not the most famous or richest or best sellers of their times, let alone of all times. Classical critics rank the highly controversial Beethoven over classical musicians who were highly popular in courts around Europe. Rock critics are still blinded by commercial success. Robert Christgau sold more than anyone else (not true, by the way), therefore he must have been the greatest. Jazz critics grow up listening to a lot of jazz music of the past, classical critics grow up listening to a lot of classical music of the past. Rock critics are often totally ignorant of the rock critics of the past, they barely know the best sellers. No wonder they will think that Robert Christgau did anything worthy of being saved.

notoriety =/= esteem

Easy as it might be to beat up on him, 95% of music critics are exactly the same.

Because he usually says more in those few sentences than your average p4k writer in one of their reviews. Also, he has written long-form criticism/analysis as well.

This was an introduction to one of his columns from the early 70s:

"I'd like to start by giving a little background about myself so you know where I stand on things. I grew up in the '50s, I like hard rock, I like folk, but I call out insipid singer-songwriters. I listen to a lot more black music than most of my peers."

>music critics as a whole are shit
Wow, didn't know that before. Truly, this new information is groundbreaking.

Going For The One [Atlantic, 1977]

The title cut may be their best song ever, challenging a formula that even apologists are apologizing for by now with cutting hard rock guitar and lyrics where Jon Anderson casts aspersions on his own "cosmic mind". But even there, you wish you could erase Rick Wakeman and elsewhere, Steve Howe has as little to say. C+

He doesn't say anything though.
He just sounds like a pretentious twat, unnecessarily using large words and high culture references for such a low brow art form.
Then after trying to convince you he's a smart guy without actually saying anything, he tells you the New York Dolls are the best band ever.
Literally fuck this old fool.

Cause he proved it was possible to say so little with so many words

He gave in the court of the crimson king a bad review. Thats how you know he's full of shit.

Kinda like how roger ebert gave The Godfather part 3 a higher score than part 2.

Jesus fuck, why did 2016 have to claim so many talented musicians but not this fucking shit taste pleb? Why can't this old fucking bitter bastard just die?

He's not? All I ever hear about him is what a piece of shit he is.
I've even seen things he said toward bands in a positive light and he still comes off as an asshole.

because pitchfork are fucking shit?

> KING CRIMSON: In the Court of the Crimson King (Atlantic) The plus is because Peter Townshend likes it. This can also be said of the Crazy World of Arthur Brown. Beware the forthcoming hype--this is ersatz shit. D PLUS
What the fuck is his problem?

Stephen Stills [Atlantic, 1970]

Steve Stills always projects an effortless swing and his tradeoffs here with Eric Clapton are classic. There's only one thing that remains undefined. Oh wait, it's the songs. C+

Stephen Stills 2 [Atlantic, 1971]

Steve Stills has always come on as the ultimate rich hippie--arrogant, self-pitying, shallow, sexist. Fortunately, he's never quite reached his true level, but flashes of brilliance remain. The single, "Marianne", is very nice, especially if you don't listen too hard to the lyrics, but there's more to the tune of an all-male chorus with jazz horns singing in unison and with perfect straightness the chorus "It's disgusting" over and over. Keep it up SS, it'll be a pleasure watching you fail. C+

>What the fuck is his problem?
Its not a problem, its the person. Christgau is just a piece of shit.

In The Heart of the Young [Atlantic, 1990]

The appalling pall that pop metal casts over 1990's abysmal Hot 100 is a triumph of mass narrowcasting. By carefully eliminating any accidents of race, gender, or sub-generation, it is in theory possible for any passive Caucasian under 25 to consume (in descending order of marginal differentiation) Heart or Jon Bon or Warrant or Cheap Trick or David fucking Cassidy. Winger are Whitesnake with the sexism muted and the facelifts down the road, their feigned innocence and youthcult rote masking their will to power. They may last a while, they may not. They're so bad they're not even completely terrible. C-

It's time to get redpilled, progcucks.
robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=King Crimson

>The plus is because Peter Townshend likes it.
That probably should have been a hint to Christgau that his taste was shit if one of the greatest musical geniuses in rock alive wrote a full-page ad talking about how the album was a literal masterpiece.

Piano Man [Columbia, 1974]

Billy Joel's debut, "Cold Spring Harbor", was recorded in the vicinity of 35 rpm to fit on all the material--he's one of those eternal teenagers who just won't shut up. Stubborn little bastard too--after his bid stiffed, he worked a Los Angeles cocktail lounge soaking up Experience. Here he poses as the Irving Berlin of narcissistic alienation, puffing up and condescending to the fantasies of fans who spend their whole lives by the stereo feeling sensitive. And just to show them who's boss, he hits them with a ballad in the manner of Aaron Copland. C+

Yeah but he also thinks The Who sold out in the 70s and they were only good during the British Invasion days.

>Red has an A-
EVEN DEMONS KNOW

Yeah, but he wrote the review in 1969. And he's also a shit taste hack, Quadrophenia was their second-best album.

Bio [Chess, 1973]

You know how Willie Mays was one of the greatest baseball players in history, but just can't cut it anymore? I feel the same way about Chuck Berry. D+

Not to agree with him, but Chuck Berry is overrated.

Christgau was asked once in an early 2000s email exchange why Who's Next got dropped from A to A- in Consumer Guide to the '70s. His reply:

"I originally rated the album an A, but in Consumer Guide to the '70s, I dropped the rating slightly. This was after seeing how the band's later career unfolded. I recently sat down and listened to Who's Next for the first time in a decade, and although it wasn't so obvious in 1971, all the warning signs were there like the long-winded song structures, synthesizer noodling, and Roger Daltrey's histrionic vocals. For a while, I came almost to despise The Who and I still maintain that The Who Sell Out is their one truly great album."

That album is trash though. Chuck Berry had some fantastic live shows in the early 70s but as a studio artist he'd lost it years earlier.

He's not wrong. I mean, let's be honest that the proto-pop punk Who of the early days were better than the fat, two-ton stadium rock act they turned into. It's like comparing a 1950s Ford Thunderbird with the bloated '70s model.

Wild Tales [Atlantic, 1974]

The title's as phony as the rest of the album, which despite the bought-and-paid-for goodies--an intro here, a harmony there, even a song occasionally, is mostly a tame collection of reshuffled platitudes. Especially annoying--"Oh, Camille" in which Graham lets us know he is morally superior to a doubt-ridden Vietnam vet. C-

Pyromania [Mercury, 1983]

Fuckin' right new heavy metal is different from old heavy metal. The new stuff is about five silly beats faster. And the "new" metal singers all sound free, white, and more-or-less twenty one. C+

Volunteers [RCA, 1969]

As many times as I've listened to this record, I just can't connect--every time Grace Slick lilts out "Up against the wall, motherfuckers!", a phrase I find a little overused at this point, I want to laugh out loud and the instrumental cuts don't seem very inspired either. It's hardly a bad album of course and everyone seems to dig it a lot, but they could be wrong. B+

The Downward Spiral [Nothing/TVT/Interscope, 1994]

musically, Hieronymus Bosch as postindustrial atheist; lyrically, Transformers as kiddie porn ("Heresy," "Reptile") **

The Fragile [Nothing, 1999]

After six fucking years, genius-by-acclamation Trent Reznor delivers double-hoohah, every second remixed till it glistens like broken glass on a prison wall. Is the way he takes his petty pain out on the world a little, er, immature for a guy who's pushing 35? Never mind, I'm told--just immerse in the music. So I do. "Dream job: emperor," it says. "More fun than death by injection." B

With Teeth [Nothing, 2005]

All pretense of deeper meaning worn into shtick, he's left with the aggro mood music that was always his calling ("Getting Smaller," "With Teeth"). *

Year Zero [Nothing, 2007]

No matter how clichéd Trent Reznor's dystopian fantasies may be--and they have their moments, like the rebels who conquer by crawling and the anti-Bush anthem rendered juicier by its deliberate inconsistencies--it has the virtue of getting him out of himself. And though he may warn of the noise here, it's all just modern music, whooshing and phasing hookily hither and yon. Is it a coincidence that he created his most songful album just when he stopped obsessing on his own dubious agony? Nah--it's fate. A-

Ghosts I-IV [The Null Corporation, 2008]

Two hours of electronic instrumentals by the ranking genius of studio S&M? Despite respectful reviews, I shied away, only to be put off when I finally approached by a deliberate piano intro that turns out to be its most annoying moment. Finer minds than mine may find these pieces worthy of continuous attention. I say they're background music, there waiting when your mind drifts speakerward, just distracting enough to change up your mood in a useful way. Moved to revisit Brian Eno's Discreet Music, I can attest that when I need mental wallpaper, I'll take Trent's. But I don't need mental wallpaper all that much. A-

>noodling
>bloat
Why do nu-male punkfags always use these to describe '70s rock?

Desire [Columbia, 1975]

In the great tradition of Grand Funk Railroad, Dylan has made an album beloved by tour groupies, including those who were shut out of Rolling Thunder's pseudo-communitarian grooviness except via the press. It is not beloved by me. Although the candid musicality and wily propaganda of "Hurricane" delighted me for a long time, the deceitful bathos of its companion piece "Joey" says otherwise. These aren't protest songs for the little folks, ordinary Joes and Janes, in the tradition of "Gates of Eden", they're about wrongfully oppressed over-heroes. Indeed our beleaguered superstar may be feeling a bit oppressed himself. His voice sounds viscous, his rhymes weak, while sisters Emmylou and Roni seem to be merely holding his ring finger. Far better are the pained, passioned marriage tributes "Isis" and "Sara". B-

Street-Legal [Columbia, 1978]

Professional rock scribes invariable learn to love boastful, girl-shy adolescents. Boozy-voiced misogynists in their late thirties are a straight drag. This divorcee sounds too overripe, too in love with his own self-generated misery to break through the leaden tempos that oppress his melodies. Because he's too shrewd to put his heart into genuine corn, and because his idea of a tricky arrangement is adding a couple of horns and singing girls to a basic I-IV-V chorus, a joke is what it is. But since he still commands remnants of authority, the joke is sour indeed. C+

Saved [Columbia, 1980]

This record proves that the real hero of Slow Train Coming wasn't Jerry Wexler or the former R. Zimmerman or even Jesus Christ, it was Mark Knopfler. May Bobby never preach to soul sisters again. C+

Exmilitary [Third Worlds download, 2011]
Death-metal hip-hop for El-P fans who secretly wish the Insane Clown Posse wasn't so dumb ("Blood Creepin," "Klink") ***

This is how I knew he was "bout it".

Infidels [Columbia, 1983]

By this point, Dylan's contempt for the daughters of Satan has grown such that he can approach them with a solicitousness that's almost chilling, as seen in "Sweetheart Like You". It gets worse--he then goes on to conflate Jews with Zionism and the Ital al-Hassidim that follows inspires no less than three superstitious attacks on space travel. The man has turned into a hateful crackpot. God only knows (and I use that phrase advisedly) how far he'll go if John Glenn becomes president. C

Boston [Epic, 1976]

When I heard that someone had achieved an American synthesis of Yes and Led Zeppelin, all I could do was hold my ears and say "Gosh!" C

All 'n All [Columbia, 1977]

Intricate playing, tight harmonies, and a combination of textures from many lands combine to make for a first side that cooks throughout. There's only one problem--as unsympathetic as I am to lyrics about conquering the universe on wings of thought, they shake my fundament anyway. B+

Kerplunk [Lookout, 1992]

beats masturbating anyway ("2000 Light Years Away", "One For The Razorbacks"). **

Dr. Dre: 2001 [Interscope, 2000]

It may be a new millenium, but he's still S.L.I.M.E. How Eminem survived all this misogyny conditioning to become the sensitive spouse he is today is a mystery. The album starts promisingly with a track about fleeing the crime infested 'hoods for the suburbs. Then for the next hour, with time out for some memorable Eminem tracks, Dre degrades women every way he can think of, all of them involving his dick. Rumor has it that his wife came up with the idea, which if true renders him a liar in more ways than Eminem himself could comprehend. Best friend S. Dogg, bad speller Kurupt, and dat ho Ms. Roq are among the hangers-on who'll take his money (really Eminem's money) when, and if, he writes the check. And just to show he's serious, he closes with a tearjerker about a dead homie. Wotta innovator. C+

>The College Dropout [Roc-A-Fella, 2004] A
>Late Registration [Roc-A-Fella, 2005] A+
>Can't Tell Me Nothing [no label, 2007] ***
>Graduation [Roc-A-Fella, 2007] A-
>808s & Heartbreak [Roc-A-Fella, 2008] A-
>My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy [Roc-A-Fella, 2010] A
>Yeezus [Def Jam, 2013] ***
>The Life of Pablo [Def Jam/G.O.O.D. Music, 2016] A-
Is this a joke?

On Avery Island [Merge, 1996] :(

In the Aeroplane Over The Sea [Merge, 1998] :(

Ok some albums I see a scissor symbol, wtf is that supposed to mean?

This is meta af

A Choice Cut (Choice Cuts) is a good song on an album that isn't worth your time or money--sometimes a Neither, more often a Dud. Some (Choice Cuts)s are arbitrarily personal, others inescapably social. Sometimes one is so wondrous you'll be tempted to spring for the high-priced package anyway. More often it would fit sweetly onto a compilation you can only pray will include it.

Choice Cuts, that means a mostly shitty album with one song he found to be interesting/cute/amusing.

The scissors mean there are only one or two good tracks on an album (choice cuts). Usually the scissors symbol is followed by the titles of those tracks.

Little Earthquakes [Atlantic, 1992]

She's been raped, and she's written a great song about it--the quietly frightening acapella "Me and a Gun". That means she isn't Kate Bush. But although I'm sure she's her own person and all, Kate Bush's market share she'd happily settle for. C+

Since I Left You [Sire/Modular, 2001]
using bits and pieces of dumb crap, which is ecological, to make smart crap, which is less so ("Frontier Psychiatrist," "Close to You") **

A dud rating indicates an album that I found to be tedious, boring, disappointing, or outright offensive.

fucking lmao

avalanches BTFO

Ten [Epic, 1991]

in life, abuse justifies melodrama. in music, riffs work even better ("Once", "Even Flow"). *

>robertchristgau.com/get_gl.php?g=A+

Thoughts on his A+ list?

Turn On the Bright Lights [Matador, 2002]

They bitch because everybody compares them to Joy Division, and they're right. It's way too kind, and I say that as someone who thanks Ian Curtis for making New Order possible. Joy Division struggled against depression rather than flaunting it, much less wearing it like a designer suit. What's truly depressing is that, just as the hairy behemoths of the grunge generation looked back to the AOR metal they immersed in as teens, these fops tweak the nostalgia of young adults who cherish indistinct memories of much worse bands than Joy Division, every one of them English--Bauhaus, Ultravox, Visage, Spandau Ballet, Tears for Fears. At a critical moment in consciousness they exemplify and counsel disengagement, self-seeking, a luxurious cynicism. Says certified British subject Peter Banks: "Emotions are standard and boring. I'd like to find another way to live." That's thinking either big or very small. C+

Al Green: Greatest Hits [1995, The Right Stuff/Hi]

> greatest hits

The Who By Numbers [MCA, 1975]

This record is far worse than my dispassionate grade would indicate because really, don't we all expect better? From The Who no less? Pete Townshend has more to say about star doubt than David Crosby or John Lennon, but the apercus, namely "Dreaming From The Waist" and "Wherever I May Booze", merely circle the drain. I don't expect the seeker to have the answers, but I do expect him to at least enjoy the question. B

Who Are You [MCA, 1978]

Every time I listen closely, I can discern some new detail in Daltrey's singing or Townshend's guitar or Entwistle's bass guitar. Not in Moon's drumming though, and I still don't relate to the synthesizer. But I never learn anything new and this is not my idea of fun rock-and-roll. It should be one or the other, if not both. B

what's the problem, famo?

Bridge Over Troubled Water [Columbia, 1970]

Melodic. B

lel

SAVAGE

nothing, nothing at all

Load [Elektra, 1996]

The good thing about being old is that I'm neither wired to like metal nor tempted to fake it. Just as I suspected, these Johnny-come-latelies-meet-the-new-boss-same-as-the-old-boss-es can no more do grunge than they can double-ledger bookkeeping. Grunge simply isn't their meter. So regardless of what riff neatniks think, this is just a metal album with the songs shortened and the tempos slowed, which is good because it concentrates their chops, and bad because it also means more singing, which they can't. C+

robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=Aphex Twin

Selected Ambient Works Volume II [Sire, 1994]
>Anyway, a lot of Eno's "ambient" music could also be described as bland wallpaper.

Thousand Roads [Atlantic, 1993]

David Crosby lends new meaning to the word "survivor", meaning "If you can't kill the motherfucker, at least make sure he doesn't breed", and until VH-1 got on the revolting "Heroes" video, I'd hoped to never sample this piece of make-work for his rich, underemployed friends. Oh, well. The only thing that could render it more self-congratulatory would be a cover of Jefferson Black Hole's "We Built This City". C-

Long May You Run [Reprise, 1976]

Like the tour, the album, recorded and set in Miami, is a profit-taking throwaway, but that's not necessarily a bad thing--Neil Young is always wise to wing it and the less Steve Stills expresses himself, the better. Also, hearing Stills sing lead vocals only once every other cut is an exponential bonus. His "Make Love To You" sets up "Midnight on the Bay", Neil's stupidest song in many a moon. But Neil's in a droll mood most of the time--title song's a riot. Not bad for California rock. B

Leftoverture [Kirshner, 1976]

Wanna know the difference between American art-rockers and their European counterparts? They're dumber, they don't play as fast, and their fatalism lacks conviction. As amusing as I find titles like "Father Padilla Meets The Gnat", I find no parallels in the music itself. D+

Animals [Columbia, 1977]

Those who accuse the band of being stuck in a repetitious rut of cynicism may be the cynical ones themselves and miss the point entirely, which is a well-constructed piece of political program music. Ugly, rousing, and hard-hitting in all the right places. B+

>look up his Pink Floyd page
>his favorite albums from them are Animals And WYWH

surprisingly good taste

oh boy, a Christgay thread!

American Dream [Atlantic, 1988]

Take this album for what it pretends to be and to an extent is--four diehard hippies expressing themselves. Poor old guys can't leave politics alone--there's more ecology and militarism here than back when they were princes of pop rebellion. Not that that's reason to pay Graham Nash's ditties any mind, or how Stephen Stills' steady-state ego is reinforced by stray references to judges. But David Crosby's cocaine confessional makes "Almost Cut My Hair" seem self-abnegating, and Neil Young adds musical muscle and gains commercial muscle back. Not as bad as you'd think, nor worth giving a second thought to. C+

...

Fucking lmao.

...

this is accurate. Spiderland is garbage.

Crosby, Stills, and Nash [Atlantic, 1969]

Rated by request, I've written elsewhere that this album is perfect, but that is not necessarily a compliment. Only David Crosby's vocal on "Long Time Gone" saves it from a special castrati award. Pray for Neil Young. B+

Greatest Hits [Chess, 1975]

Freddie King's renown as the inventor of electric blues guitar is a reward for his shameless Anglophilia, here documented on "Palace of the King". Forget what Anglophiles claim of his recent work, the man's been coasting for years. The R&B sides he cut in the '60s for (of all things) King Records are acute. Here he makes do with a bunch of Leon Russell and Don Nix boogies, the vocals blurred, the guitar all fake-and-roll. C+

because he's been doing it for so long....but now gives high grades in some effort to help the industry...like blabbermouth for the general music consumer.

This, plus his reviews tend to be brief, meaning he doesn't mince words.

...Baby One More Time [Jive, 1999]

Madonna next door ("Soda Pop", "The Beat Goes On"). *

That actually is a great review.

Duets [Reprise, 1993]

He squeaks, he squawks, he clicks, he creaks, he groans. That's not the point. Old guys with worse voices have sung better--Champion Jack Dupree prevailed in his 80s because he didn't stake his manhood on the technical impeccability of his instrument. For decades, Sinatra's sound was magnificent, spellbinding, beyond reproach. But although he still sings better than the likes of Bono and Carly Simon, Luther Vandross runs rings around him in the vocal department, while Liza Minnelli out-acts him. He who lives by the larynx dies by the larynx. C+

I hate Christgau but that review for Ghosts is actually pretty spot-on

Double Nickles on the Dime [SST, 1984]

Maybe by designating a "side chaff" and aiming a boast at their four-sided labelmates ("take that, hüskers") the L.A. (really San Pedro) punk-fusion (really "chump rock"?) trio mean to acknowledge that a forty-six-song double-LP is overdoing things. But I have my faves throughout, topped by a Steely Dan cover that wouldn't have survived first weed, and I'm not sure I'd like them so much at a different pace. Eleven of the titles are over 2:00 and thirteen more over 1:40, but structures are still so abbreviated that the way one riff-song segues into the next changes both. This is poetry-with-jazz as it always should have been, and while D. Boon may be a somewhat limited singer, he's a hell of a reader, with a guitar that rhymes. A-

Sweet Baby James [Warner Bros., 1970]

I have solved the Taylor Perplex, which seems to revolve around whether James was a verier godsend when he was gracing Macdougal Street with the Flying Machine, discovering the Beatles on Apple, or now. My answer: none of the above. Which leaves an even more perplexing question: which god is supposed to have sent him? Not the one in Rock and Roll Heaven, that's for sure. B-

This album has that perfect laid-back 70s Quaalude sound.

Christgau is the Armond White of musical criticism.

Would Lester Bangs be held up in an even higher esteem than Christgau if he hadn't died so early on?

On the topic of music reviewers, does anyone know any reviewers for modern classical, onkyo, EAI etc.? Rock reviewers are a dime a dozen.