I Don't Like Radiohead: The Problem with Consensus & Independent Taste

If you're a true music fan, someone who cares and really gets it, you love Radiohead; you think Deerhunter and everything Bradford Cox touches is gold; and you worship at the altar of indie heavyweights like Sonic Youth, Pavement, and My Bloody Valentine. For music nerds and the most respected music journalists, these bands are typically treated with an almost religious-like respect and sometimes even worshipped. I, of course, have a deep respect and admiration for all those groups. But do I consider myself a fan or personally enjoy their music? No, not really. Sure, I've probably put a Pavement song on a playlist once or twice. When I was younger, I'm sure I played Radiohead in the car a few times to establish my music credibility to a new friend (probably a girl). But do I ever actively seek out these band's music? Do I—a music-obsessed, band t-shirt wearing, vinyl hoarder—own a single one of their records? Do I ever listen to their music for fun or enjoyment? No, no, and nope.

So, now you're thinking, "This guy has shitty taste. He wouldn't know a good song if it hit him in the fucking face." Well, please read on.

I Love Lists :: An Argument For Lists In Music

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.