The Michigan Daily - michigandaily.com Monday, October 26, 2009 - 5A The Michigan Daily - michigandailycom Monday, October 26, 2009 - 5A I The caviats of criticism We all fuck up. And reviewing music can be seen as one, big, elaborate fuck-up - mascara-ed by layers and layers of frilly language and Michael Moore-esque logic. One could say I've been feeling a little bit cynical recently. One could also JOSH say I've been BAYER feelinga little bit- cynical ever since I started taking psychology classes and reading Kurt Vonnegut. But that's its own thing. When rookie writers first get on music staff, the vast major- ity of them come to me with the exact same query: How do I review music when I don't know what the hell I'm talking about? And instead of quellingtheir doubts, I'll feed them something along the lines of: "None of us know what we're talk- ing about. I don't even know what I'm talking about, and I'm the one who's supposed to be helping you learn how to review music. So, in that sense, we all know what we're talking about." Which is basically a sophistic load of cheese-stuffed hot air. But hey, false confidence is the gateway drug to all happiness. "Why so pessimistic?" you might ask. Last week I reviewed Embry- onic by The Flaming Lips and I awarded it three stars - slightly above average. I've been listening to it relentlessly ever since. Not because I'm audio-masochistic, but because I've actually been enjoying it quite thoroughly. At no point dur- ing my relationship with the album was I not at least highly intrigued. But when I actually sat down to critique the thing, my mind jumped immediatelyto words like "flawed," "filler" and "disjointed." Then there are records like The Antlers' Hospice; records built to be critic-proof. "Lush" composi- tions? Check. Atmospheric variety and build-and-release dynamics? Check. An intricate lyrical narra- tive that begs for "concept album" status? Check-plus. Naturally, I awarded the album four stars - an entire heavenly body better than Embryonic. But I haven't revisited Hospice once since I lauded it about six weeks ago. Why? Because, in all honesty, it just isn't that much fun. And Embryonic's about as fun as a barrel of space monkeys. But in order to snap into "critic mode," I've conditioned myself to systematically hate fun. All right, maybe that's a complete overstate- ment. But I have forced myself to develop a set of concrete criticisms with which to evaluate music. A sort of flexible, revolving, subjec- tive pseudo-heuristic that I like to take with me when I go out poach- ing albums. A set of "criteria" that just so happened to clash with Embryonic and mesh with Hospice. This said, I archly stand by all of the comments I made in both reviews. It's just that, in the limited space of an album review, I feel it's my duty to expose the negative underbellies of songs. And this is where the whole Michael Moore Fascinating and flawed co-exist. thing comes into play. Oftentimes, I write a review with the muck- raking mindset that, the more criticisms I can come up with, the worse an album is. While the word "critique" technically means "to analytically assess the good and bad qualities of something," we tend to attach a much more negative connota- tion to the word. If you heard that I was coming over your house to critique you, I'm sure you wouldn't be overly thrilled. It's a cognitive fact that humans are much more affected by negative thoughts than positive thoughts. I'm a particular slave to this camp. Sois Michael Moore, probably. So is language in general. Nearly every language in the world has more negative words than posi- tive words in it. And our language determines, to a large extent, our thoughts. When I go out critiquing, with my cynical taint and limited linguistic toolbox, it's often easier to go for the knees and vomit all my frustrations with an album into the 500-to-650 word doggy-bagI'm given. And in the case of Embryonic, a highly flawed but endlessly fas- cinating nut-cluster of a double- album, I will admit that I nitpicked at it. Over the course of 70 minutes, there's a lot of room for sloppiness. There's also a lot of room for bril- liance that I had more trouble con- verting into words. So I guess this is sort of an apol- ogy letter. An anonymous reader commented on my review of Embry- onic, suggesting that it definitely deserves four stars. And itprobably does. It was just such an easy album to pick apart and chastise. But I'm a little disturbed by the fact that my bold attempts at critical objectivity have led me to bash Embryonic, a gleefully wild album that not only pushes but steamrolls the envelope (and succeeds more often than not), while praising safer but ulti- mately less gut-busting albums like Hospice. So if my ho-hum review somehow swayed you to bypass the album, I apologize and urgently ask you to reconsider. Recently, one of my friends lectured me on the difference between modal jazz and chord- based jazz. And it gave me an appreciation for just how much I don't know, musically. I'm a drum- mer. I know about rhythm. When it comes to melody and harmony, I have no field experience - just a gut. I understand overall structure and chord progression. But, like most of us, I don't have a trusty decoder for what, objectively, makes a great album. But I know when something kicks me in the ass. And Embryonic kicks me in the ass. So if you haven't listened to it yet, please do. I'll leave the rest to subjectivity. Bayer wants you to critique his performance, if you catch his drift. E-mail him at jrbayer@umich.edu. At least it's not Detroit. Uneven Stevens Hipster hero Sufjan Stevens gets muddled with the music of the big city on his latest album By KRISTYN ACHO Daily Arts Writer It's no surprise that in the hype-driven hipster world fans have fallen for the seemingly unique and whimsical stylings of Sufjan Stevens. While the singer-song- writer's ethereal stage presence - Sufjan dons bedazzled wings SAan at many of his shows - and wide- ranging use of instruments both Sv vie for innovation, his showman- The BQE ship falls under the weight of its Asthmatic Kitty own pretenses. Although raving fans are boldly calling Sufjan Stevens our generation's sole musical genius, the musician may be more aptly described as one of its most overrated composers. This doesn't mean that Sufjan Stevens should be written off as a mediocre musician. One of his most noteworthy albums, Greetings from Michi- gan, is a meticulously crafted homage to his home state, and his latest record The BQE is a captivat- ing orchestrated suite. Just as Sufjan describes the doomed plight of Detroit in Michigan, his new venture delves into the hardships of New York's boroughs, specifically due to the poorly constructed Brooklyn-Queens expressway. Here Sufjan's true talent shines through: his ability to compose simultaneously heart-wrenching yet uplifting ballads that portray the adversity of the cities dear to him. The album, which was recorded at the Brook- lyn Academy of Music in 2007, comes with a long list of extras including a DVD of the performance, a 40-page comic book, photographs of urban chaos and a "stereoscopic 3-D Viewmaster* reel." Although Sufjan is known for being ambitious (hell, the guy planned to write an album for each of the 50 states), all the extra fluff seems a bit excessive. But all distractions tossed aside, The BQE is basically a 40-minute instrumental symphony, full of twists and turns as the sounds of the bus- tling city meld with dreamy xylophones and brass instruments. The BQE uses every instrument and electronic tinkering imaginable. The juxtaposition of jingle bells and synthesizers with flighty flutes and blaring trumpets is supposed to convey the fast-paced movement of city life, but it comes off as a jumbled, wonky mess. The album begins with what feels like an over- ture of a 1950s Disney movie - the boasting of trumpets and whirlwind of wood-percussion gracefully flow into a romantic and sleepy melo- dy that initially captivates listeners but falls flat due to the synthetic retro vibe that encompasses the beginning tracks. Not until the middle of the record does the album use any sort of composition- al variety. But when it finally picks up, it catches listeners off guard. In "Interlude I," Sufjan suc- cessfully creates a climatic shift within the album, disturbing the peace and leading the listener on with fantastical ballads. In accompaniment to the album, the DVD depicts the urban chaos within New York's bor- oughs, contrasting the vibrant architectures of Brooklyn and Queens with images of congested highway traffic. The footage, which uses slow- motion and still-screens, feels disconnected from the composer's orchestra, despite the fact that Suf- jan intended for a cohesive multimedia experience. While the music has a lively, frenzied quality, the film proves to be a stagnant and drawn-out effort, leaving the album feeling muddled by the extrane- ous side-project. It seems rather unnecessary for Sufjan Stevens to create a sort of novelty album while fans await the long-overdue release of a follow-up to Illinois. Some may call it procrastination, but despite its flaws in continuity and awkward juxtaposition of sounds, the utter enormity of The BQE experience should be commended. HPV Fact: Your boyfriend scren ed fo r H PV-the viru, that causes genital warts. JOIN DAILY TV STAFF. SMALL SCREENS, BIG HEART. For an application, e-mail battlebots@umich.edu. 7Z 1 2 ZETA 5 1 2 TAU ALPHA 4 7 2 210 9 2 6 v 4 O 55 1 3 6 2 3 8 68 4 21 Aiui Arbor Autbw'lde Ctd'17fr There's sc Visit