I love lists. Not the bullshit traffic-whoring kind compiled nonsensically by publications, à la
LA Weekly's
The 20 Worst Hipster Bands. Though that article is openly sarcastic, the context and content hardly make sense: not only is the overused signifier "hipster" left cluelessly undefined, but the majority of the bands included, like Fun. and The Black Keys, hardly make the grade as "hip" or culturally cutting edge. They get airtime on major radio stations. Another entry, Bon Iver, won a Grammy. A more apt title for the article would be "20 really popular bands that sell shitloads of records that we're going to lazily group together and poke fun at."
Lists embedded with big names get more hits. In a year-end list, it's easy to plop a few handfuls of popular Billboard-charting bands together and call it a day. In fact, a list like that might become exceptionally popular, but does it actually inject anything positive into the conversation? That's on par with ordering the "15 best" Michael Bay movies. Yes,
The Rock is a comedic goldmine and Will Smith and Martin Lawrence crush it in the first
Bad Boys movie, but do I really need to be reminded that there are not one, but three
Transformer films? Fuck no. A list is not haphazardly regurgitating information and slopping together recognizable and agreeable names to sell hits and increase clickability. A good list is informative and nuanced; it facilitates discovery; sheds light on the character of the list-maker and on the state of music in general.
Denney & The Jets :: Denney & The Jets EP
