with a tip of the hat to relaxer:
Is Animal Collective the New Moby?
excerpt:
And now, an oversaturation similar to what Moby willfully engendered via multi-platform licensing over more than a year could be happening, somewhat organically, to Animal Collective – even before their album's official release and without the attendant financial windfall – via blogs, websites, YouTube, and assorted online jabberwocky.
But eventual overhyping aside, with both Play and Merriweather Post Pavillion, I realized from the very beginning that a decent amount of my exhilaration had nothing to do with the quality of the music – it stemmed partly from a feeling that this artist I'd liked/ respected/ rooted for, but who had remained pop-culturally marginal, had finally made a record so immediately pleasurable and accessible that it might appeal to people who generally hate this kind of shit.
But why does that remotely matter? Why care that people who are predisposed to hate Moby or Animal Collective might grudgingly admit that they don't really suck? Is it simply because of an altruistic urge to share great music with the world, and as a result, make the world a better, more enriched, place? Well, if I were a DJ at an NPR-affiliated station, that line might work, but otherwise, nah. Is it because Spin has thrived on documenting that moment when underground bands emerge onto a larger, more mainstream stage and belaboring/ speculating upon the issues related to said evolution makes for reliable copy? Possibly.
More honestly, it's likely just due to some low-self-esteem personal validation (see, my taste isn't that arbitrarily bad) or because I don't wanna think of myself as a dickwad elitist, or because it's a hoot to have something you genuinely enjoy be popular for a change, rather than convince yourself to appreciate something after the fact (Radiohead), because it's vastly better than all the other garbaggio out there that lots of people like. Of course, by acknowledging this nagging desire, I'm also acknowledging that my critical judgment is pathetically flawed.
Is Animal Collective the New Moby?
excerpt:
And now, an oversaturation similar to what Moby willfully engendered via multi-platform licensing over more than a year could be happening, somewhat organically, to Animal Collective – even before their album's official release and without the attendant financial windfall – via blogs, websites, YouTube, and assorted online jabberwocky.
But eventual overhyping aside, with both Play and Merriweather Post Pavillion, I realized from the very beginning that a decent amount of my exhilaration had nothing to do with the quality of the music – it stemmed partly from a feeling that this artist I'd liked/ respected/ rooted for, but who had remained pop-culturally marginal, had finally made a record so immediately pleasurable and accessible that it might appeal to people who generally hate this kind of shit.
But why does that remotely matter? Why care that people who are predisposed to hate Moby or Animal Collective might grudgingly admit that they don't really suck? Is it simply because of an altruistic urge to share great music with the world, and as a result, make the world a better, more enriched, place? Well, if I were a DJ at an NPR-affiliated station, that line might work, but otherwise, nah. Is it because Spin has thrived on documenting that moment when underground bands emerge onto a larger, more mainstream stage and belaboring/ speculating upon the issues related to said evolution makes for reliable copy? Possibly.
More honestly, it's likely just due to some low-self-esteem personal validation (see, my taste isn't that arbitrarily bad) or because I don't wanna think of myself as a dickwad elitist, or because it's a hoot to have something you genuinely enjoy be popular for a change, rather than convince yourself to appreciate something after the fact (Radiohead), because it's vastly better than all the other garbaggio out there that lots of people like. Of course, by acknowledging this nagging desire, I'm also acknowledging that my critical judgment is pathetically flawed.