Fear in the Critique - My Reluctance to Write Critical Journalism

I feel somewhat reluctant to start this, an exploration into why I am reluctant to start something else. It could be perceived to be a lengthy, overly dramatic excuse but I'm sure expressing it serves some sort of purpose. I'm not sure if I should write music reviews and I can't work out whether this is because I am fearful or lazy, or whether it because I am morally opposed to the critical breakdown of art. I don't want artists to be discouraged by my silly, stupid words. I don't want to point out all the moments that are hackneyed, that don't quite work out, but again there is little I can say to stress those perfect aspects, those moments that enchant me completely.

I fear that term, "mindless hyperbole". I've used it to dismiss so much of my work. I know that venturing into this kind of journalism will make me susceptible to that kind of reproach - both from others and from myself. This is because I have to describe the music for others, to evaluate its sound, to place it in some sort of a context. Who am I to draw out these analogies anyway? Who am I to accept or dismiss those who have the creativity to play their music for others, it's all I could ever wish for.

Maybe it's just not for me, not yet anyway. I acknowledge its value to others but perhaps I don't have enough conviction in my taste to do this just yet. I am more drawn to articles about musical culture - why do we love what we love. I love stumbling upon an article which debunks the mystery and motivation behind my musical self. It is something that I long to validate. It is like with every essay, every article, every podcast, I am saying this is valuable. My taste is valuable. All I ever mean to say is value your passion and be careful not to dismiss the valued passions of others.


Everything's Gone Green