Hardcore for Nerds

To be less obtuse about my previous post

barthel:

It struck me in seeing the reactions of people who hadn’t previously read the PRR house style how much more professionalized blogging has become in the last 5 years or so, a sentiment which I imagine you receive with some mixture of “no duh” and “hey, that sentence doesn’t make sense.”  I wrote under a pseudonym when I started blogging because I didn’t want to be found out at work and fired for writing quite so much during business hours.  It didn’t seem to bother anyone, nor did it bother anyone when I ported my particular bloggy style to a legitimate publication, and my name emerged naturally over time.  But the “blogging voice” has become such a consistent and defined thing over the past half-decade that when someone comes onto a Prominent Blog and doesn’t write in that style, even knowledgeable commentators have a hard time telling whether or the whole thing is a joke.

Similarly, it seems like there used to be lots of joke or prank blogs, some of which broke out and some didn’t, some of which were run by Prominent Writers and some of which weren’t, and while there was certainly some interest in the “outing,” such prankiness and anonymity didn’t bring the whole validity of the blog (or the joke) into question.  But now, once a given Internet presence becomes visible enough, there’s such a drive to tie the online persona to a real-world identity that we can’t seem to read inflection without it.  To be anonymous on the Internet is to be kidding; to be identified is to be serious, or at least transparently kidding.  I feel like we used to be much more accepting of that kind of ambiguity, but maybe I’m wrong.

I’m not trying to say that the pre-professionalized world was better, or even that I know whether or not PRR is or isn’t real/a hoax/whatever (though I do kinda think it doesn’t matter, since both sincere and ironic writing require only a consistent personality, not a tangible one).  But it is interesting the changes that this (good! positive!) professionalization have wrought. 

this is all true. Based on reading his blog for at least half a blog year (i.e. since spring this year) and a couple of emails (I don’t usually like to quote from private correspondence without permission, but this is too funny to pass up so I hope he understands: “hey i really appreciated yr response to my bit about MIA today. you got to all of the laziness and blackberry blogging in my post and i wish i could reply cuz i can’t reblog, but i feel your criticism and i really genuinely appreciate yr reblogs. who are you? like who do you write for? -anonymous prr”*), I’d go with “tragically sincere”.

Of course unleashing PRR on the unsuspecting/oversuspecting masses of the Awl, or at least another small section of the internet public, was bound to inspire some confusion as well as scattered approximation of the more accurate context. However, the comment you gloss as “basically Dave Eggers” (never read, and definitely don’t want to now) almost made me want to cry, in a sort of “when I hear the word ‘sincerity’ I reach for my revolver” way:

“This is not a parody, this kid is fucking sincere and honest and makes me remember what it’s like to really care about music. I don’t think he’s necessarily judging the Yeah Yeah Yeahs one way or another for selling out, he’s just reporting on the facts of the situation and letting you decide (or not) for yourself …”

To call PRR straight reportage would be to misunderstand objective journalism, and reserved-gonzo might be a better description, but largely it’s a factually correct observation. Yet in terms of opinion this is exactly where I disagree with PRR on the value of irony, cynicism and genuineness in modern music, or any other form of culture (likewise on the continuing validity of ‘rebellion’ or the alternative). Neither sincerity nor irony are ends in themselves, but means to an (undefined) end, and for me at least the best criticism and art comes from a mixture of means, rather than an exclusive use of either.

*my name is with my new editor** and former PRR room-mate, Dean Van Nguyen, whose magazine I started contributing to recently.

** and anyone else who wants to send me an email, really.

britticisms:

“Maps” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Wait. They don’t love you like I love you.

YYYs sound best on slower jams. There’s something striking about Karen O’s voice, or lack of a strong one, that works best when the tempo is drawn out. She sounds vulnerable, and honest, which makes the songs like “Soft Shock” but especially “Maps” completely breathtaking.

Earlier this year I said:

Is there a more decade-defining slow jam than “Maps”? It is the most unlike the group’s core material and yet it speaks to the listener immediately and without pretensions. You understand exactly what O sings and it is precisely her voice, the apparent vulnerability, which speaks to a generational yearning not yet explicitly articulated.

So yeah, this is my Song of the Decade.

(click through at top for album version)