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The Music Club

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from: Jody Rosen
to: Robert Christgau and Ann Powers

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Posted Sunday, Dec. 16, 2007, at 7:17 AM ET

Jody Rosen chatted online with readers about this dialogue on Dec. 20, 2007. Read the transcript.

M.I.A. Click image to expand.

Dear Ann and Bob,

Let's start with the song of the year—which isn't to say the song of 2007. I'm talking about "Don't Stop Believin'," nee 1981, the soundtrack to the year's finest music video, and, for a week in June, the holder of the No. 1 spot on iTunes. My first thought when the screen went black at the end of the Sopranos finale was, "What a great song"—and my love deepened when I heard Petra Haden's barbershop version, which glories in the contrapuntal genius (I use the term advisedly) of Journey's arrangement. Meanwhile, guess what note-perfect cover song Kanye West has been playing as a requiem for his mother on his current tour?

OK, so I'm half-joking. A more sober-minded Song of '07 choice would be "Umbrella" or "Rehab" or, for the indie-inclined, "All My Friends." I mention "Don't Stop Believin' " at the start of our conversation as a cautionary tale. Back in 1981, how many critics gave love to Journey's top 10 hit? The answer, based on research conducted at Robertchristgau.com, is not bloody many. The co-winners of the top single prize in that year's Village Voice Pazz & Jop Critics Poll were the Rolling Stones' "Start Me Up" and Laurie Anderson's "O Superman/Walk the Dog." "Don't Stop Believin' " didn't place in the top 25.

Of course, Journey was a whipping boy for years—the embodiment of "corporate rock," that favorite rock-crit epithet circa '81. (I well remember my junior-high-school self, rock snob in training, sneering at my friends who piled off to see Journey's Escape tour.) And now, a quarter-century later, lookee here: Journey's schlock-rock anthem haunts American culture like no other song from 1981 and has been embraced as a secular hymn by arguably the most important popular musician of the current decade. It gives a critic pause. At a time when hundreds of year-end polls are available at a mouse click—polls that suggest a pop punditocracy mired in by groupthink—I can't help wondering what I'm missing. How has critical orthodoxy clapped my ears shut? There's a "Don't Stop Believin' " of 2007 out there somewhere; it's probably some Nickelback song. Or maybe it's Mims.

And with that preamble, I offer my best-ofs—a veritable study in pop critical orthodoxy. Or not entirely: I admired but didn't adore the widely lauded Arcade Fire and Radiohead albums. Spoon? Meh. And I bet my favorite-singles tally includes more wussy girl-pop tunes than most critics'. (Yep, that's Katharine McPhee at No. 25.) But check the rundown of usual suspects—Kanye, Lil Wayne, LCD Soundsystem, Feist, Amy Winehouse, Miranda Lambert, and the ultimate critics' darling, M.I.A., who heads up both my singles and albums list—and it's clear that I heard the same year as many others. Anyway, here are 25 songs I loved:

1. M.I.A., "Bird Flu"
2. Lil Wayne, "I Feel Like Dying"
3. Sophie-Ellis Bextor, "Catch You"
4. Usher featuring Ludacris, "Dat Girl Right There"
5. Eve, "Tambourine"
6. Ciara, "Like a Boy"
7. Jennifer Lopez, "Qué Hiciste"
8. Rihanna featuring Jay-Z, "Umbrella"
9. Aventura, "Mi Corazoncito"
10. Miranda Lambert, "Famous in a Small Town"
11. Hector El Father, "Pa' La Tumba"
12. Amy Winehouse, "Back to Black"
13. Robin Thicke, "Lost Without U"
14. Eric Church, "Guys Like Me"
15. The Pierces, "Boring"
16. Sugababes, "About You Now"
17. Gwen Stefani featuring Akon, "The Sweet Escape"
18. Kanye West, "Can't Tell Me Nothing"
19. Mika, "Grace Kelly"
20. The Fratellis, "Flathead"
21. Natasha Bedingfield, "I Wanna Have Your Babies"
22. The-Dream, "Falsetto"
23. Mickey Avalon, "Jane Fonda"
24. The Cribs, "Our Bovine Public"
25. Katherine McPhee, "Over It"

And with apologies to Battles, The-Dream, Manu Chao, Bonde Do Role, Jens Lekman, Tinariwen, Nick Lowe, and others bubbling under, my 10 favorite albums:

1. M.I.A., Kala
2. Miranda Lambert, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
3. Brad Paisley, 5th Gear
4. Lil Wayne, The Carter 3 Mixtape
5. LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver
6. Kanye West, Graduation
7. Amy Winehouse, Back to Black
8. Feist, The Reminder
9. R. Kelly, Double Up
10. The Pierces, Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge

Kala is the richest fusion of politics, confession, and rhythm I've heard in a dog's age. For the deep exegesis, I direct readers to reviews by my Music Club partners: Ann's in the L.A. Times and Bob's in Rolling Stone. I'll simply add that, with M.I.A., seeing is as revealing as hearing. She's an art school grad, and her auteurism extends from rhyme- and beat-creation to co-directing her videos and live-show visuals to designing and fabricating her clothes. The videos for "Bird Flu" and "Boyz"—filmed, respectively, on the southern Indian coast and in Jamaica—present our heroine on war-footing, fronting armies of male dancers. They're eye-popping tableaux, which make vivid Kala's subject matter (per Christgau: "the brown-skinned Other now obsessing Euro-America") and mission (per M.I.A.: "I put people on the map that never seen a map").

Kala sounds like a post-colonial studies seminar, but it's spectacular fun. The beats are thick, buzzy, exciting—all in all, the sturdiest that I heard in 2007, with top honors going to the clobbering urumee drum symphony that powers "Bird Flu," and the sole raspberry to (lo and behold) Timbaland's track. And let's not forget "Jimmy" and "Paper Planes," two of the year's most delectable pop ditties.

By the way: Is it noteworthy that my top two albums both feature centerpiece songs in which women take up arms? "Paper Planes" is an abstract revenge fantasy, a symbolic mugging of the First World by the Third, complete with lock-load-and-fire sound effects. Miranda Lambert's "Gunpowder and Lead" is a more standard narrative: domestic violence victim grabs her sawed-off and lies in wait for the creep who beat her up to make bail. From a social progress perspective, I'm not so sure a chicks-with-guns trend is a good thing—but if I had a daughter I'd sooner she gorge herself on Miranda's vigilantism than, say, the Pussycat Dolls' stripper-pop. And it's definitely less boring than hearing 50 Cent brag about his glock for the 1,000th time.

Speaking of 50: Did you notice that he's not quite retired? The rapper's defeat in his showdown with Kanye West was just the most high-profile flop in a year that, by the reckoning of many hip-hop diehards, was the worst in memory. The roadkill included T.I. and Jay-Z, whose American Gangster bored me stiff and, what's more, seemed like a cop-out: After bragging about acting his age on last year's dreary Kingdom Come, he uses the cover of a "concept album" to return to the subject matter he'd supposedly outgrown. A bit desperate, no?

It was also an off year for R&B, with neither Rihanna, Keyshia Cole, nor late fourth-quarter entries by Mary J. Blige and Alicia Keys (zzzzz …) filling the planet-sized hole left by the vacationing Beyoncé. The fellas did slightly better, with strong work from the Sexosaurus, Ne-Yo, and The-Dream, who put out a fine solo debut, and, oh yeah, also authored some nonsense syllables you may have heard: "Ella, ella, ella/ Eh, eh."

I'm running out of room. I haven't even gotten to the two brightest spots in black music: Lil Wayne, who proved that a rapper can be the planet Earth's greatest lyricist and most original vocal stylist, and Kanye West, who proved that a rapper can be pop's most cosmopolitan composer. Nor have I mentioned the guy I listened to the most this year, the irresistible Brad Paisley, who proved that a country singer can be the world's shreddingest guitar player and coolest all around rock star. And funniest comedian.

I'd also like to dig into the questions of indie rock, race, and rhythm that have lately been obsessing our guild. It was, after all, a pretty damn good year for indie beats, wasn't it? (Go, Battles!) And I'd like to discuss those delightfully silly regional hip-hop dance crazes. (Hello, Aunt Jackie.) And as much as I'd prefer to avoid this unpleasant topic, I think we should consider Britney and her tabloid pop. Blackout has garnered heaps of critical respect for its electro-shock production and audacious treatment of Britney's troubles. But I found it a ghoulish, car-crash porn, without a trace of human feeling in it; the record smacked me up against the limits of my heretofore untrammeled poptimism. Turns out a mind-blowing Bloodshy & Avant beat alone doesn't do the trick. As the poet said, I'm livin' just to find emotion.

But enough about me. Ann, Bob—what music thrilled and repelled and fascinated you this year? More to the point, which candidate are you backing in the Iowa caucus: Akon or T-Pain?

Yours,
Jody

the music club
entries
123456789
from: Jody Rosen
to: Robert Christgau and Ann Powers

My Lists

Posted Sunday, Dec. 16, 2007, at 7:17 AM ET
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Veteran rock critic Robert Christgau's Consumer Guide column appears monthly on Microsoft Networks. He is a contributing editor of Rolling Stone and a contributing critic for All Things Considered, and is archived at robertchristgau.com and Rhapsody.com. Ann Powers is the chief pop-music critic of the Los Angeles Times. Jody Rosen is Slate's music critic. He lives in New York City. He can be reached at .
Entry 1: Photograph of M.I.A. (Mathangi Arulpragasam) courtesy her Web site: http://www.miauk.com/. Entry 2: Photograph of Patty Griffin by Karina Taira. Entry 3: Photograph of Brad Paisley by Peter Kramer/Getty Images. Entry 5: Photograph of Miranda Lambert by Ethan Miller/Getty Images. Entry 6: Photograph of Lil' Wayne © 2007 Universal Records. Entry 7: Photograph of Amy Winehouse by Dave Hogan/Getty Images. Entry 8: Photograph of Feist from the artist's MySpace page. Entry 9: Photograph of Panda Bear by Hisham Bharoocha.
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Remarks from the Fray:

Why can't we just admit that Nickelback is the greatest Rock artist of our generation? By your standards of appreciation for Daughtry (post-grunge, big lungs, showmanship, populism, and oodles of record sales) then clearly Chad Kroeger has usurped the throne of Kurt Kobain down to Jimi Hendrix.

So why not? They have better guitar solos too. Why not them? They've made it themselves - working their way through dingy snowed out Canadian bars. Why not them? Every 18 year old knows the words to "Rock Star" and "How you Remind Me." Why not them?

Because they suck suck suck suck suck, and you know it. Their music is unoriginal (yet somehow Daughtry manages to ape THEM), their lyrics are the worst kind of ham-handed laughable tripe, and the "rocking" is the most middle-of-the-road ho hum of studio slickery ever to be committed to tape. They're a clumsy, artless band - the post grunge equivalent of Turner Bachman Overdrive or Grand Funk Railroad - at least those guys had good competition.

And here you go, giving Daughtry props for being popular. Michael Jackson, the Beatles, Elvis and Bing Crosby were popular, but they were also cultural touchstones as celebrity icons who represented what was good in their generation. Daughtry just represents what IS. He is the sound of reality TV, an Icon of the Bush Decade Generation. You know as well as the rest of us who aren't willing to substitute populism for depth that we will look back on all that with pity at best.

--jwschmidt

(To reply, click here.)

If you think the Shins are boring, you are a populist, open-minded musicologist. If you think Lil' Wayne is boring (just because something is up-tempo doesn't mean it can't be boring), then you are an elitist hipster douchebag. Just wanted to clear that up. Also, can we start backlashing on the whole poptimist thing yet? I mean nobody is saying that Transformers should end up on critic's end of year movie lists, or that "Dancing with the Stars" is better than "The Wire", or that the best novel of last year was by James Patterson. Why is it that popular opinion can't be ignored in music, but it can be for every other media outlet?

--Utz_the_Crab_chip

(To reply, click here.)

I started to write this long justification of how I'm a huge indie guy, how I go out of my way to be as anti-mainstream as possible but will always have a soft spot for Journey. But then I realized how trivial that is because you will never like it and the people that love it just do. And the people that love the song, have loved it for a quarter of a century now. That's substance. You can ignore it by trying to make your criticism sound like a social science by adding historical anecdotes but dropping names isn't dropping bombs. Schlock is putting down a song then dismissing any argument because "you're not buying it." That's cheap. That Brittney Spears or Soulja Boy you list might be on a soundtrack 10 years down the road, but it'll be put there ironically. You can say that a message of "Don't Stop Believin'," is 'hyperemotional' but is it really more shallow than a song that's about "Supermannin'" that ho and has a dance to go along to it??? Oh, and Brittney? At least Steve Perry was writing his own shit.

If I just gave you the middle finger and told you to fuck off would be pretty rock n' roll but I won't since I'm not from the "rebel generation." I'm inheriting an earth that could possibly be facing mass extinctions in 50 years with enough nukes to destroy the world ten times over. I have to go to grad school now, on top of college, just to stay competitive, just so I get a job that makes me wait in line for the Baby Boomer that decided to put off his retirement until he turns 75. So, in those moments where I can let my guard down, allow my heart to shake my cynicism- if only for 4 minutes- give me a song that espouses optimism. I'll listen to my indie, electronic, and underground hip-hop at home so let us all sing the chorus drunk or sober in the bar. Is it cliché? I don't know anymore. It's a post-modern world where every "heresy" and taboo has been upended. Don't you think it's a little more edgy, more "rebellious," these days to sing songs of determined hope?

--SatoriThroughAllegory

(To reply, click here.)

I always find it interesting that music critics have to pay attention to and know all genres of music very well while most listeners (including Slate fray posters) seem to pretty much like one or two genres and dismiss everything else.

It's funny to see Double Up and Sound of Silver on the same list. I listen to a good swath of current "mainstream" music. I don't know that much about "indie" and other "underground" scenes, though I did start to get into some of the French inspired dance music stuff this year.

I found out about this stuff on the recommendation of critics who also give Timberlake, Timbaland, and The Clipse good reviews. The point of this rambling post is that if you see an artist on one of these top 25 lists that you have never heard of, give him / her a try, you may find something that you like.

--Alcibiades

(To reply, click here.)

(12/20)