Fever Ray review by (fake) Rove McManus

I have pretty crap bands on my show. I guess that's because my music knowledge is like my understanding of comedy: limited. Lowest common denominator. I don't get this Fever Ray album. It all sounds the same. Like Cyndi Lauper but dark and brooding. God I miss Belinda. There's a song about loneliness and she says something about covering our heads. I liked that bit. I don't know what it means but I like it. It makes me sad. Apparently she's from a band I've never heard of called The Knife. They sound really violent. This isn't violent. I heard it was Triple J album of the week. Belinda's album wasn't; they're too cool. I did some research on the net and everybody seems to like this CD so I guess I do too but I don't think I'd have her on my show. I'd tell Karen to "say hi to your mum for me" but she sounds like she might not have one. I listened to an interview with her here but she had a funny accent; so did the guy interviewing her. He sounded like a Scottish comedian I heard once. I think it's all made with synthesizers and computers but it's not like Cut Copy. Say "hi" to your mum for me.

The First Casualties of Fairfax Budget Cuts

Collateral damage: Fairfax readers. Well, to be fair, SMH readers appear to have been dealt the biggest blow having to suffer through more in-house music reviews manifesting itself in a new reviewer for Sydney readers, Kylie Northover. I was instantly struck by the first review I read by Northover, a review of the Trouble Andrew release. Apart from using the word gnarly and referring to EMI as a 'big label' rather than a major label struck me as strange and amateurish but when Northover rattled off a few influences, rounded out with Gangster Pat, I thought WTF? I think I'm ok with hiphop knowledge but who the hell is Gangster Pat? The impression is of someone adding an obscure artist to a string of well know artists just to prove their knowledge. I was right. A quick Google search turned up some blogging about Northover's Qua review. Again, she listed some influences/references and one almighty obscure Musique Concrete artist. She must know her shit. Well, apparently not. As you discover here and here you'll find discussions showing Northover merely used a blog review that quoted the same obscure artist. In the process of trying to appear knowledgeable she's indicated the background and reference are not her own. Same with Gangster Pat. A quick Google search of Trouble Andrew and Gangster Pat will bring up Andrew's Myspace page where Gangster Pat is listed, among numerous others, as an influence. It's a clear and pernicious attempt to display knowledge that doesn't exist. What's more, it seems quite silly to make such references when writing for the Fairfax audience. They neither know nor are interested in such references and it adds nothing to the review. Poor music reviewing, poor journalism.

The real question is why? There are many answers to that. The unfortunate outcome is the questioning of the review and the journalist in general. With genuinely talented music writers out there how did this journalist come to be writing music reviews and how did Fairfax find Northover capable? I look forward to more inept reviews!

About This Blog

I used to be a music journalist. Not that that makes my opinions more valid but it does mean I know how it works, especially in Australia; the pitfalls of street press, the narrow field of focus most newsagent magazines have; the complete lack of understanding editors can have of electronic music and the sad lack of care metro newspaper have for using good music journalists and reviewers. Anyone can write a music review, right?
There'll also be the odd guest review—I'm trying to hook up a review from Rove McManus—and If someone can send me an online crossword generator there'll be music crosswords too!
I'll also post random bits not related to music journalism but it doesn't have to be like dancing to architecture and is that so strange? I know I've swayed in a dance-style looking up at giant buildings, and well designed spaces have made me feel like dancing. It's an expression that creates a good excuse for poor writing and bad journalism. People write about love everyday, dancing to architecture seems simple in comparison.