much as the quality of the writing continues to impress, the focus in recent months, or more frustratingly since my subscription began, has been almost purely on what is amusingly described as ‘modern composition’.
eek.
(i ignorantly call it ‘noise’ but that is, i’ve since learnt, an entirely different genre i don’t like)
it all started at a party last year.
bored of watching, pointing, and laughing at faces posing awkwardly in pointless trilbies, i found myself casually perusing a copy of said magazine, and was quite happy to see madlib being extensively interviewed. not a month later, moritz von oswald on the front cover too.
hurrah, subscription ahoy.
oops. the first issue plops thru the letter box, and it’s only then that i realize that, once in the review section techno, house, and dubstep have been neatly compressed onto almost one page, and labelled somewhat bizarrely, ‘critical beats’, with hip-hop given a section of equal size just overleaf. cheers lads.
and so it is, that bar the occasionally interesting feature i all-too-oft sit there, flicking through slack-jawed at how little of it means anything to me, and have to deal with such journalistic genius as,
“the opening sounds resemble the flocking calls of wading birds”
“a contorted, metallic chord hangs, twitching, like a criminal from a gibbet”
“his appliances include a tube of coffee cans taped together to amplify the whining tones of rice cooking above a portable stove” (no, i am not making this shit up).
i’m lost.
i just can’t fathom it.
am i a philistine?......perhaps.
accept yourself, as someone once great once put it.
OBVIOUS YET NECESSARY DISCLAIMER:
don’t mind me, it’s great the magazine exists - it has to, i’m just pissed off that i’ve subscribed.
for a year.
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