'10 Worst Lists' - The NME and the Current Crisis in Music Journalism

(Featured in the NME, February 2012. Soon to be followed by '10 Best Album Liner Notes' and '10 Worst Britpop Shoes')

To many, the concept of the ‘list’ and the practice of ‘listing’ may seem an odd, possibly even inane, choice of subject matter for an article. I certainly would forgive you for presuming an article on lists would be dull in extremis; so mind-numbingly bland as to not warrant even the most cursory of glances. In these assumptions you may well be correct, however, lists are central to the seemingly never ending discourse of music.  Ever since the dawn of music criticism (when Neanderthal men first cast judgement on the pretentious drumming of the local stick smasher) people have been compelled to sort their musical opinions into lists. Ancient cave paintings in France depicting images of Stone Age percussionists sorted vertically in order of preference are testament to this. This may be a slight exaggeration, or possibly a grotesque lie, but nonetheless lists are a staple of music journalism and something of a proud tradition of the medium. At its best, the list can inform but also entertain. In this regard you could argue the list is a force for good in music journalism; a moral bastion of integrity divulging information in a neatly condensed form. Conversely, however, the list can also be used for evil; such is the power of the list that it also has the ability to divide, offend and peddle falsehoods as absolute truths. Sadly in these times it is the latter which seems to predominate and it therefore surprises me not that the list has fallen into such disrepute amongst large swathes of the music press reading public. 

As with many of the present ills in music journalism, much of the blame for the debasement of the list can be placed on the NME; a paper which currently holds the number two spot in my list of ‘10 Worst British Music Papers’ (naturally, the only reason it is not number one is because Kerrang still exists.) As a substitute for writing articles (or ‘proper music journalism’ as I like to call it) the NME has morphed into one continuous under-researched, shit-stirring, hate mongering and downright snobbish list. Recent lists published in the NME have included ’10 Worst Songs of the 90s', a list so banal and extraneous in its subject matter that it is surely only a matter of time before we are treated to the NME’s pick of ‘10 Worst Hair Cuts of the 1970s’ or possibly ‘10 Best Coats as Worn by Liam Gallagher/Alex Turner/Chris Martin...’ (you get the gist.) More worrying than the lists which are merely devoid of any meaningful content are the lists which seem intended solely to annoy, anger or ‘cause a controversy’ and ‘provoke a response.’ Recently this was apparent in the magazine’s decision to label Lady Gaga’s ‘Born this Way’ as the most ‘Pretentious Album’ of all time in a top 10 list on the subject. Naturally this caused a frenzied online response from Lady Gaga fans which was then turned by the NME (in a decision that was almost as farcical as it was nauseatingly smug) into a list of responses from Gaga fans entitled ‘50 Angriest Lady Gaga Fans.’ As one of the list's more astute readers commented: "Why is this article even on here? It's like your trying to piss people off. Not sure if this is journalism or just trolling." Let's be honest - it's just trolling.

(Taken from NME.com, February 2012)

Now, I must profess I am not a particular fan of Lady Gaga and I would be inclined to agree that some Lady Gaga fans need to reassess the emotional relationship they have with her. However, it seems clear that from the outset the list was only ever intended to cause controversy and to be insulting. As a result the opinions contained within it are not even particularly worthwhile; even as an impartial observer I would struggle to label ‘Born This Way’ the most pretentious album of all time. If you want truly pretentious music, in the worst sense of the word ‘pretentious’, why not listen to Angel and Airwaves’ (featuring Blink 182 guitarist Tom Delonge) recent double concept album ‘Love: Part 1’ and ‘Love: Part 2’ (or better still, don’t.) Naturally, Angel and Airwaves’ doubly pretentious abomination did not make the NME’s list presumably because it would have been an uncontentious choice and whilst being valid it would not have needlessly offended anyone and what would be the point in that? Perhaps it is too much to expect informed opinions in NME lists; a recent list of ‘Top 10 Metallica Songs of all Time’ put ‘Hero of the Day’ at number four and ‘King Nothing’ at number three! Whilst I appreciate that everyone is entitled to an opinion, there are some opinions which we can all agree are wrong, such as Holocaust denial or the NME’s views on Metallica. Sadly, unlike Holocaust denial, the NME is not illegal in Austria. 

Perhaps we should really pity the NME. The magazines’ sales have been in decline for a number of years hitting a new low in the second half of last year when sales declined to under 30,000 copies a month. In fact the NME is now routinely outsold monthly by traditionally more niche music magazines, such as Classic Rock and Metal Hammer, which overtook NME sales in 2009. So perhaps really the NME just desperately wants people to care again, just like the ‘good ole days’ of the 1970s when it could duly claim to be documenting and influencing the popular music culture of the era. So perhaps the NME's '50 Angriest Lady GaGa Fans' feature, rather than purely being an excerise in childish name calling, was actually a representation of the NME editorial staff's excitement that there are still sentient beings who acknowledge and respond to their opinions... even though the rest of the world continues to shrug in nonchalant apathy. If the good ship NME is going down, however, it seems callous and cruel for it to take the list with it. Much like Hitler’s dog in the Berlin bunker, what did the list do to deserve this?




N.B. For an example of an excellently constructed list please consult Sam K.'s rather good 'The List' - http://rantlist.blogspot.com

'The Xmas Factor' - Christ, Popular Revolt and the Christmas No. 1

(Simon Cowell: The man who stole Christmas?)

As January trundles into February and, if the Mayans are right, we edge ever closer to our apocalyptic demise allow me to cast your minds back to rosier pastures - mainly, last Christmas. Everyone loves Christmas; food, family, fun, frolics, festivities, fruit cake - it’s an alliterative smorgasbord of delight. For all its charms, however, Christmas hangs on a series of bizarre absurdities. It represents a form or ritualized weirdness in which we are all encouraged to conform to a series of chronologically specific traditions that at any other time of the year would send alarm bells ringing for the early signs of dementia. Wearing a crown made of paper, heating wine up in a saucepan and standing up when the Queen appears on the television are the sort of behaviors that would see you ostracized from your community throughout the rest of the calendar year. Yet at Christmas this sort of behavior is perfectly acceptable because it is Jesus Christ’s birthday and it is what he would have wanted, or at least I am fairly sure that is what the Bible tells us. If that is indeed the case, as well as his personal quirks, Jesus had at best, a very questionable taste in music; I only refrain from describing it as “embarrassingly piss-poor” to avoid some malicious form of divine retribution. 

Like it (or more appropriately) loathe it, Christmas music has become entrenched in the holiday’s rich pageant. From the dour god fearing hymns of yore to the dour god fearing hymns of Cliff Richard, nothing quite encapsulates the spirit of Christmas like Christmas music. The cult of Christmas music is enshrined in the ‘Christmas Number One’: the highest grossing music single of the festive week. Throughout the rest of the year most people remain fairly indifferent to the singles chart (unless you’re Reggie Yates of course) but come Christmas it is apparently impossible not to care. Having a number one single during the week leading up to Christmas is a supreme artistic triumph, infinitely more important and prestigious than having a number one single in the second week of February or, god forbid, the third week of June. Indeed past luminaries of this most prestigious of honours include, Mr. Blobby, St Winifred’s School Choir and Rolf Harris. With such a rich artistic pedigree it is understandable why the Christmas Number One continues to attract such public interest and musical competition. In recent years the accolade has traditionally fallen upon the winner of ‘The X Factor', Simon Cowell’s immensely popular ‘talent’ competition. For most of these faceless purveyors of mediocrity it represents their sole excursion into the realms of chart success; their day in the sun in the middle of winter before returning to the lukewarm waters of the sea of disappointment. Indeed, for a period of time between 2005 and 2008 it seemed that Simon Cowell had the entire nation under some sort of hypnotic trance; he had somehow poisoned the collective cultural well forcing us all to buy his corrupt and corrosive product, somehow steeling Christmas in the process.

When in 2009, two unknown British citizens, Jon and Tracey Mortimer, started an online campaign to get Rage Against the Machine’s ‘Killing in the Name’ to the Christmas number one spot it was heralded as a grass roots revolt; a classic David and Goliath story where a band of lowly peasants are pitted against the might of the despotic tyrant Cowell. The song choice itself was significant; the lyrical refrain of “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” was seen to attack the corporatism of the music industry, which the miserly Cowell perfectly personified. I was initially grabbed by the novelty of the campaign, ‘power to the people!’ I thought, ‘fight the power!’ – I was positively overtaken by the spirit of Chuck D. Yet its eventual success left me cold - what had we actually achieved? Had we really exercised our collective will or had we merely substituted one kind of mass-media decision inducing pressure for another? It seems that instead of buckling to the incessant marketing and advertising juggernaut of the X factor we had merely succumbed to the cumulative effect of an online campaign and its ensuing media coverage. In effect, instead of doing what Simon Cowell told us we did what two anonymous internet users told us – what a win for independent thought that was. We had invested in a media orchestrated allusion of rebellion which really represented the other side of the conformity coin (which in case you were wondering looks very similar to the former side.) So this year when a similarly anonymous internet user tried to instigate a similarly themed campaign to get Nirvana’s ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’ to the Christmas number one spot I thought, “fuck you sir, I will not do what you (or Simon Cowell) tell me!’ I will eat, drink and be merry whilst listening to Cannibal Corpse because that is the way Christ intended it! So a Merry Christmas to all and to all a ‘Hammer Smashed Face.’

(Cannibal Corpse - Hammer Smashed Face)