Artist: Cymbals Eat Guitars
Album: Why There Are Mountains
Year: 2009
Grade: 3.5 pretzels
There’s something I feel I have to deal with as a music blogger: Pitchfork (or P4K, if you spend too much time at your computer). They are the giant that looms over every other music website, whether you like it or not. No matter how elitist you think they are, or how bitter you are that they didn’t review your favorite underground neo-folk-metal record very well, you can’t ignore them. What Pitchfork says holds a lot of clout in the music world. Appearing in their “Best New Music” section almost guarantees a band several thousand listeners, simply on the principle of the matter.
This is what happened with me and Cymbals Eat Guitars. I would have never, ever heard this band if they hadn’t popped up on Pitchfork earlier this week. They’re an unsigned New York group that recorded Why There Are Mountains in a basement somewhere (actually, it was a studio in Manhattan, but we can imagine). Pitchfork liked ‘em enough to warrant a coveted Best New Music nod. As soon as I saw that, I knew I needed to find a copy, just so I would have an opinion. I knew that this Pitchfork review would bring them much wider attention and, being the amateur music journalist I am, I felt it was my duty to at least hear what everyone would soon be talking about.
I’ve listened to the album a few times and I definitely like it, in a vague, unformed sort of way. It reminds me of lots of other bands I like: a bit of ramshackle Pavement attitude, some My Bloody Valentine oceans of guitar, a helping of nervy Modest Mouse energy, etc. For an unsigned band, I must say, I’m impressed. However, there’s nothing that keeps me coming back for more. There’s no one song that makes me go, “Holy shit! I need to play this every five minutes for the next eight weeks!” I would never call it a bad album; I just find it slightly unmemorable. You’ll notice that the majority of this review isn’t really about music and that should tell you something about what I think of this album.
This brings me back to Pitchfork. I feel that the most responsible way to deal with this much loved and hated website is to be aware of what they’re saying, but try to form opinions on your own. I know people at both extremes on this matter: those who seem to agree with everything Pitchfork says unconditionally and those who ignore Pitchfork altogether. Both seem very stupid to me. If you’re interested in music, particularly less-prominent stuff, read Pitchfork. They’re a professional bunch and they know how to write. They cover music that probably doesn’t even exist yet. As a music resource, they’re unmatched. However, blindly acknowledging what they say as truth is irresponsible. The pressure is on them to convince us, the lesser music websites of the world, that what they say should hold weight. And in order for us to even be part of the conversation, we need to listen to these albums they think are great. You’d don’t have to like ‘em, but please, please have an opinion.
This is what happened with me and Cymbals Eat Guitars. I would have never, ever heard this band if they hadn’t popped up on Pitchfork earlier this week. They’re an unsigned New York group that recorded Why There Are Mountains in a basement somewhere (actually, it was a studio in Manhattan, but we can imagine). Pitchfork liked ‘em enough to warrant a coveted Best New Music nod. As soon as I saw that, I knew I needed to find a copy, just so I would have an opinion. I knew that this Pitchfork review would bring them much wider attention and, being the amateur music journalist I am, I felt it was my duty to at least hear what everyone would soon be talking about.
I’ve listened to the album a few times and I definitely like it, in a vague, unformed sort of way. It reminds me of lots of other bands I like: a bit of ramshackle Pavement attitude, some My Bloody Valentine oceans of guitar, a helping of nervy Modest Mouse energy, etc. For an unsigned band, I must say, I’m impressed. However, there’s nothing that keeps me coming back for more. There’s no one song that makes me go, “Holy shit! I need to play this every five minutes for the next eight weeks!” I would never call it a bad album; I just find it slightly unmemorable. You’ll notice that the majority of this review isn’t really about music and that should tell you something about what I think of this album.
This brings me back to Pitchfork. I feel that the most responsible way to deal with this much loved and hated website is to be aware of what they’re saying, but try to form opinions on your own. I know people at both extremes on this matter: those who seem to agree with everything Pitchfork says unconditionally and those who ignore Pitchfork altogether. Both seem very stupid to me. If you’re interested in music, particularly less-prominent stuff, read Pitchfork. They’re a professional bunch and they know how to write. They cover music that probably doesn’t even exist yet. As a music resource, they’re unmatched. However, blindly acknowledging what they say as truth is irresponsible. The pressure is on them to convince us, the lesser music websites of the world, that what they say should hold weight. And in order for us to even be part of the conversation, we need to listen to these albums they think are great. You’d don’t have to like ‘em, but please, please have an opinion.
Nicely done. Best-worded opinion I've heard on how to approach pitchfork.
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