Objectivity & Positivity

Objectivity & Positivity

The balancing act of music criticism

Music writing is fraught. For the past four years of my life I have studied English Literature, and I understand all too well that often, to write with clarity and objectivity, there needs to be, in the mind of the critic, a clear distinction between author and text. I also understand that sometimes clarity and objectivity are not possible, and it is crucial that Critic is open to navigating that liminal space where creator and creation co-exist. Furthermore, as a woman and as a musician, I feel immense discomfort at critical assumptions made regarding my response to, or my intention with, a work of art. So, for me, writing about music is a balancing act. 

I have at times positioned myself strongly against journalism that attempts a simultaneously objective and subjective assessment of a piece of music. When I agreed to be music editor for 2016 I worried that I would contribute to a field of writing fuelled by trends, and propelled by childish jibes and totalising statements. But, I do firmly believe that good criticism is an integral part of any healthy creative community, and I think I have almost convinced myself that my contribution to a practice that makes me a little bit uncomfortable can be positive. 

When I read music criticism I am often struck by the polarity of responses. It seems to me that critics either whole-heartedly applaud a work, or lambast it alongside the artist. As well as being indelicate, this kind of criticism breeds a culture where liminality is ignored, and the artist is either worshipped or abhorred. When I listen to music I am not listening with my emotive responses set to one or the other, I am not listening uncritically, nor am I listening with an agenda. I listen to music for the same reason I play music, because I love it, and because it helps me to think, and to feel, and it pushes me to figure things out in a way that nothing else can. 

So, because I find myself in a precarious position, I have set myself a few ground rules. There is a lot in music that I take issue with, there is a lot of music that I feel uncomfortable engaging with, and a lot of music that I just don’t like.  Consequently, while I hope to challenge myself with what I listen to this year, I am not going to go out of my way to review music that I know I will actively dislike. There will always be albums I don’t love, and that is fine, I will try to treat them with the same care and respect as I would an album I love. There is very little point to writing an entirely negative review, and I won’t waste my time.  

Secondly, I will remind myself at every point that I am an individual responding to a work of art that does not exist in isolation. My response may be visceral, or it may be unremarkable, but it is not the only perspective. 

Finally, my intention in writing about music is to encourage people to listen to music that has the capacity to make them move, or to think, or to feel something. The music industry is already very good at turning people away, at alienating people from things they might like, a music column in a student magazine doesn’t need to do anymore of that. 

I hope, along the way, as I struggle with how to review something without being an asshole, that maybe someone will read a review of an album that will later change their life. Most of all I hope to positively engage with so much music this year, and to share that with those around me.

This article first appeared in Issue 1, 2016.
Posted 12:52pm Sunday 28th February 2016 by Millicent Lovelock.