Veteran jazz pianist Matthew Shipp experienced an unexpected viral moment this week following an incendiary takedown of André 3000’s 7 Piano Sketches — a record of amateurish piano doodles that received heavy coverage, including a Tennis-beating 7.0 review in Pitchfork.
Shipp held nothing back. I’m going to quote most of his stream-of-consciousness opinion (unedited) because it really is something else:
I think it is complete and utter crap -horrific-god awful insipidly wretched nothing . oh my fucking god this is some atrocious shite --- is he some type of fucking asshole ? is he a complete and utter dilletante ? I could go into detail about why each cut is stillborn --but why bother --it does not even deserve the attention of a critique it is so dreadful . the guy is not a pianist -that is the beginning and the end of it --- what an ugly piano sound -- lets not even talk about telling a story with harmony ---sounds like he listens to a bunch of music gets a couple of gestures in his head --sits down in a stream of consciousness and gets at some gesture for a few bars of something that he has not internalized -and barely knows on the most superficial level and then he loses the thread--of course there is zero composition going on in the improvisations --no language to speak of just a few cliches in his head that he can't actually play the cliche but he hits and tries at it until he peters out quickly --- wow -- he is so horrible at playing harmony --so many horn players that piano is not their instrument play so much better --- this sounds to me like pure fraud ---- what a lack of respect for the discipline by someone who in my opinion is a complete asshole for doing this -- it is depressing that this garbage will get any attention because he has a name and fame --- there is nothing refreshing about the naivety of it --it is just downright dreadful and awful--true fucking crap --insipidly wretched nothing -
— Matthew Shipp via Facebook
Shipp is entitled to his opinion and his mastery of the piano grants him an authority that I don’t possess. None of Shipp’s works have received a fraction of the mainstream attention afforded to 7 Piano Sketches, so I can fully understand the frustration behind his words. And yes, I also find André’s record uninteresting and lacklustre.
While I would never suggest an artist is “a complete asshole” for releasing music, I did enjoy considering Shipp’s genuine reaction and mulling over the questions it posed. Since the emergence of poptimism, it’s less common to see a music critic question an artist’s motivations, technical ability, and authenticity — and to unleash this kind of vitriol, unless the artist has done something abhorrent outside of music. This observation, and much more, is covered in RiotRiot’s excellent interview with Shipp about this whole saga. I highly recommend it.
Gatekeeping, elitism, and talk of proper music are still very much alive in, say, YouTube comments sections, of course, but this is different. It feels shocking to see these sentiments coming from a respectable artist like Matthew Shipp.
In the rush to be a little kinder and more inclusive, have we lost something in music criticism? Are the review sections in many publications just curated recommendations now? And if they are, is that even a problem?
IT’S CASE STUDY TIME!
Dork Magazine has been around for just under a decade and appears to be thriving. They enjoy great access to artists, publish many articles, and have a strong aversion to critical reviews. Dork’s profile on AOTY suggests their average rating this year is a generous 4/5. That is based on 120 reviews, scored as follows:
22 perfect 5/5 ratings
77 4/5 rating
20 3/5 ratings.
1 solitary 2/5 rating.
I’m not knocking Dork. I think a lot of people want and enjoy this curatorial approach. There is a lot of negativity in the world so let’s just talk about the good stuff, right? I understand that and I love the work of many curators. Most music blogs and Substack newsletters I follow are centred around curation. Perhaps I’m biased, but I think no one does this better than my good friend Gabbie at New Bands For Old Heads. You almost certainly follow her already, but if not go and rectify that. And read this semi-related post:
I have many roles at work and at home. Too many, in fact, which explains my uniquely chaotic e-mail inbox. But I don’t necessarily feel like the role of curator is one of them.
A lot of my articles involve some curation. Monthly round-ups, playlists, and end-of-year extravaganzas are mostly positive, but when I approach music, new or old, I try to listen critically. I judge the quality and effectiveness of music, lyrics, and production choices, and I attempt to contextualise the record I am listening to. I don’t think grading is hugely valuable or important, but I use a score (out of ten) to track the albums I listen to and I have been scoring albums on No Ripcord since 1999.
I know all of this is entirely subjective and frequently acknowledge this in my writing. I’m not sure Shipp would agree, as he presents a lot of opinions as fact, which is something I observe more commonly in criticism of film, literature, and art.
DIFFERING APPROACHES
The Guardian recently reviewed an art exhibition by former Take That singer Robbie Williams. I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed their sneering critique:
Maybe this is what we deserve. Maybe this is what happens when the arts are decimated, when funding is stripped from vital, high-quality spaces. It leaves a vacuum that invariably gets filled with rubbish, with cynical “immersive” installations, with Van Gogh and Klimt “experiences” and David Hockney light shows, with people trying to fleece you and call it art in the process.
— Eddy Frankel, writing in the Guardian
The art in question certainly looked heinously terrible. But can any individual claim the authority to determine what is or isn’t art?
Circling back to 7 Piano Sketches, Pitchfork’s review claims that these pieces cannot be considered in a vacuum, because it’s André 3000:
They have to be heard as part of a larger experiment, an inquiry into what happens when you reject the careerism at the heart of the pop machine and decide to go a quieter, less goal-oriented way.
— Hank Shteamer, in his Pitchfork review of 7 Piano Sketches
The pieces have to be heard in this specific way? No, I don’t accept that. This is not Bowie throwing a curveball on Young Americans, or Lou Reed confusing everyone with Metal Machine Music. This is a legend in one field entering another, entirely different field and falling short. A more apt comparison might be The Weeknd appearing in The Idol.
I don’t want to read a barrage of negativity, but do I crave a full spectrum of reactions from the critics I read. Even if I disagree, I want to be challenged, provoked, irritated even. Effective criticism can augment and enhance my experience of music. It can prompt me to revisit something I didn’t initially connect with or it can highlight a flaw I overlooked. Sometimes I just want a list of things to check out, in which case I’ll look to a reliable curator like Gabbie.
I’m not asking for ratings to follow a normal distribution curve — or for ratings at all, come to think of it — but a degree of balance feels necessary. If there are no mediocre or atrocious records, how can we be sure there are good ones?
Or to put it a different way: there is a lot of music out there, a lot of people are recommending things, and I don’t have time to listen to everything. A trusted critic who is willing to flag up records that aren’t consistently thrilling is useful to me. I will rarely take their word for it, but I might allow myself to make a quicker judgment and swiftly move on if my initial reaction echoes theirs.
I hope I can be that critic for some people. I’ll continue to serve up plenty of recommendations, of course, but I will tell you if I think a release isn’t deserving of the acclaim it’s almost certainly receiving in Dork elsewhere. I’m unlikely to label any artists “some type of fucking asshole”, but you can rest assured that fame and name alone is no guarantee of praise on these pages.
I feel like there is a place for negative criticism, and 7 Piano Sketches is exactly that place. Since it's André putting it out, it's going to get a lot of attention. It's a record in an obscure genre that is going to get more press than anything else in that genre does, a record that people are going to seek out, listen to, and possibly buy - and many of those people aren't going to be familiar with the music, they're only going to be checking it out because it's by André. So if isn't any good (or if it *is* good), it's important for people to know that.
When it comes to mainstream genres, though, I really don't need negative reviews. What I need are reviews that highlight the quality stuff that would otherwise fly under the radar. If Foo Fighters or J Cole or Dua Lipa put out an album and it isn't very good, who cares? It's going to get streamed millions of times whether or not P4K or whoever says it's good or bad.
And if some indie rapper or garage band or bedroom producer puts out something that isn't very good, again, who cares? It'll come out and disappear into the avalanche of music that I hear once (or not at all) and never think about again.
But. If that lesser-known artist puts out something good, something worth listening to, *that's* what I need a review of. Again, because so much music is being released, quality stuff, stuff that deserves a wider audience, is constantly getting missed. That's where reviewers/curators are indispensable: in shining light on music that deserves a larger audience.
Most music mags these days are afraid of saying anything too critical for fear of losing access, and more importantly, subscriptions. If everything is given four or five stars, there is no real criticism. An editor from one of those mags responded they only review albums they think people will like. Wonder what they’d do with Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music? Early Rolling Stone reviews of Black Sabbath declared them unlikeable and unlistenable. The world made up its own mind.